The Matchmaker who can see the red string of fate

The Matchmaker who can see the red string of fate

By:  phoenixhyperion  Ongoing
Language: English
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Ever since I was a child, I can see the strings. Strings that connect us to other people. Strings that reveal what we feel towards others. Strings that can change it's color. From Red to Black. Just like love, that can turn into hatred. From White to Black. Just like friendships, that can turn into betrayal. Alice Jade Martinez is an 18-year-old girl possessing the ability to see the fated strings. Working as a matchmaker, she bonds people to their fated partner. But as nice as it sounds, her gift comes with a curse. She's forbidden to fall in love. If she does, the string's curse will activate and instantly kill that person... She fell in love once. And he died. That's why she swears she'll never fall in love again. A novel with overbearing characters. A series of love stories bonded by the fated string. This is a story about a girl who can't fall in love. And a boy who can't feel anything.

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Comments
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Bella Hermosa Olga
This book is awesomeness
2021-08-10 06:16:18
2
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Clearwell
Its a great read. Awesome use of words, it reels you in
2021-08-02 14:26:16
1
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mamabnf
love it its a great read
2021-05-24 16:23:09
1
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Clearwell
super nice 🙌🏻
2021-05-24 10:39:34
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Andrene Levis
This novel has an engaging plot and the execution has fluidity that propels to the next scene quite easily. In other words, it's easy to get hooked and go on reading. Keep on writing, author. All the best.
2021-03-11 12:31:56
3
20 Chapters
Prologue
I work as a matchmaker.   Ever since I was a child, I can see strings, strings that connect us to other people. Strings can take a variety of colors and can change at any time, depending on your feelings towards other people.   When you like a person and they become your friends, the string that connects you both is white. When you start to feel dislike, irritated, annoyed, betrayed, jealous, envy, lust, hurt or other negative emotions, the color starts to change. From white, it eventually converts its color to black. In other words, strings change their colors because what you feel for others changes.   You might be asking, red strings are for the one true love, right?   The right term for it is 'fated partner' or 'predestined partner' but can never be called 'one true love'. People's hearts can change you know. Red can turn into black. Just like how a couple who loves each other, but after a few ye
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Into his grave I draw his face
ALICE        I flipped through the pages. The pencil in my hand snapped as my grip on it tighten. I did not bother getting myself another one. I can still draw using what's left of this five inch pencil. This flimsy little thing... is already enough. Just like his lingering image in my brain...is enough to draw his sketch.     I sat, sprawled across the lush green bermuda grass. For three hours I worked on his portrait. And at last, his face took the exact replica of how he looks like. My fingers lingered at his bright playful eyes. As if touching could bring me the warmth he used to gave me.        I held my sketch book over the sun, smiling approvingly at my masterpiece. Even in drawings, he's still beautiful. The look in his eyes radiates warmth and full of life. Just the right match for his cheery dimpled smile. I held
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Into my miserable self he sings,
ALICE   It was unusually hot. My skin perspired in sweat. I want to look up above, see if there's any clouds that could cover the scorching sun. But I can't. Not right now. Strangers other than the groundkeeper is here.    I don't like strangers. Especially if they're surrounded with black patched strings. Either they hate their life and had too much pity for themselves or they're congested by uncontainable rage they can't see anyone as pleasant or likeable.    The way they throw doubtful stares at me like the rest of the people who came by tell me it's the latter.   I couldn't care any less. Except for the groundkeeper who took care of me, all these strangers will come and go and move on with their lives. Forgetting any detail they thought up about me.    At the corner of the tomb made of limestone, the white cat emerge and approach the basket warily. 
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Into my distorted self, he appeared
ALICE     Different colors of strings came out from the red book, swirling, tangling, forming a loop around me. As if it wants to tie me around its knotted threads.         “What is this?” Black white and red burst out like fireworks. I’ve never seen strings this much without people.    Thrice when I was in crowds, I saw many. But most are black. None are white. Some have red. In their pinky, in their hearts.     Black strings ruled over hearts. Humans are full of hatred. They can lie straight in their faces, in their smiles, but they can never lie through the string.     I don’t know why strings reveal themselves to me. I don’t like people in the first place. Seeing their feelings laid bare makes me hate them more.       I waited till the outburst died down
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Into his last wish, I accept the offer
ALICE   "I don't want revenge. It's a waste of time." I said and resume my place in my kneeling spot.   I'm thinking of leaving but I have nowhere to go. Except here. He is my home. This is where I belong to. This is where I'll die.   [And you think kneeling there is not a waste of time?]   "He is my world. So my time solely belongs to him."   A distortion in the air and he sprouts at my side. Glaring at me.   [So you'll throw your life? Just like that?]   I opened the book and scan through the pages. At first, it was all blank. My drawings completely wiped out. I started seeing red. Rage surge inside me like blazing fire. But it stops... then recedes to oblivion when Kenneth's face appeared. I pursed my lips in relief. I ran my finger at his image. Black inky hair, electric blue eyes. My drawings doesn't have the lush of colors he always
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Into his life, I pull the strings
ALICE   My sight started to shatter. Images bombarded me in full blast. Strings shot up in every direction. Like numerous colorful birds on their glorious flight. I can hear excited whispers. Of a woman, floating, hovering, embracing me with welcome arms. I can’t tell what she’s saying. Only a low distorted words of ‘thank you my Mistress’ is what my ears picked up. I’m still kneeling in the soft pile of grass. A bit mushy from the rain, pebbles scraping at my knees.    I hear soft enchants. A foreign language I’ve never heard before. But some part of my brain oddly pin the words as familiar. Like a distant lullaby someone sang to me. Long long time ago.   I find it strange. Not upsetting. Just strange. The more I listened, the more my strength drained my muscles lifeless.    I’ve heard these enchants before. Someone whisper them to my ears in my sleep. Soothing, palliative, a set of w
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Into his fate, I exchange it with another man.
ALICE   This is the first time I actually look around the graveyard. The sight of raised tombs made with marble in hues of white, black and greys filled my eyes with fathomless pain. This sight is a reminder. Of what I lost. Because of my foolishness, I lost him. And he is my everything.   Now, I have nothing left.   The emptiness gnawing in my chest is bottling up inside I’m scared it might choke the life out of me one day. The fear of not knowing anything, or whether I can go on with life without him is so suffocating I don’t know if crying or screaming or laughing through the madness will solve anything at all.    Sometimes I just wish everything will end. For me. End this pain. End this loneliness. I wanna be with him so bad, I did all that I could to take away my life. But it’s useless. I’m still here. I still wake up in the morning. Left alone and existing without direction.  
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Into my grievous sin, I slowly kill myself
ALICE The shock hasn’t left me. I’m still frozen on the spot. I should move. I should take care of the boy in my arms. I should muster strength to my limbs. I should remember to breath. “Kid?” The groundkeeper’s voice rang in still atmosphere. Chordinis and Hymen dispersed in mid air. The image of the two disappeared with the wind. They left me. Because they can’t let others see them. I know. The pocket watch necklace is heavy against my skin. The sketchbook made its weight known against the bag hanging in my shoulder. I thought I lost the bag. This one is what I brought four months ago. At his burial. I can’t bring his guitar, nor his clothes. I left it rotting in dust in our apartment. I can’t push myself to go back. Not when he died in the very room I treated as my paradise. “Woah who’s that boy?” The groundkeeper scurried to attend
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Into my dreams, the past haunts.
ALICE On that night, I saw my Aunt. Her bright crimson hair lits like a dancing fire in the sunlight. Her hazel narrowed eyes glinting hints of unapparent malice and ruthlessness.  “Alice,” she called me. In a shaky voice, I respond. “Yes, Auntie?”  She stretch her hand at me, telling me to come closer. So I did. She flicks her wrist and a chain of strings, black, red, and white of mixed colors burst out from her fingers. One connects to me. Others connect to the eleven people in the room. Majority shot up in every direction, moving outside from the white circle shape of the wall.  “Can you see it?” she asked through her
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Into his trace, I hope for a miracle.
ALICE After the groundkeeper rushed to my side last night, I wake up the next morning to two electric blue eyes, messy raven hair and face void of expression I can’t put a finger what. “You’re awake,” the boy told me. I blinked twice. Stared straight to his empty dull eyes that don’t have a trace of spark. “You’re okay?” I croaked. He didn’t bat an eye when he made a sound under his throat of saying yes. I want to reach out to him and brush his hair. I want to take my pencil and carved his impeccable beauty in my paper. For many reasons other than one, he looks like Kenneth. If I blink my eyes and gaze to his small face, I can picture out the young Kenneth in his middle school years. I forced my eyes shut. No matter how desperate I was. If I saw Kenneth’s face in every little boy’s face…how crazy have I beco
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