Tattoo

fat, fat, fat, fat

The way that guy in the shop, Alex, had looked me up and down in the shop yesterday said everything.

I dug the knife in deeper.

This was good, wasn’t it? Those fucking doctors always went on about how it’s good to let your emotions out, to give yourself a relief from the stress of life. This was a relief, a fucking real, physical relief that flooded my veins like the intricate pounding of drugs.

A gasp forced its way from my lips and I scrunches my eyes closed, leaning my head against the relatively cold surface of my pale wall.

My eyes flickered open and I stared at the bumpy surface of the wall. It looked smooth from far away, but up close it looked like Velcro. It was a fake, good to look at, but don’t get too close. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, gently this time.

Alex flickered back into my head again.

With a monster like growl I through the knife across the room and heard a soft thump as it landed on my bed. Shame. I wanted it to cause some fucking damage.

I need a fag.

I stood, letting the blood drip like molten silk from my arms and yanked a small pack with ‘SMOKING KILLS’ written on the side, I slithered one out and stepped towards the window. The plastic was hard, and dirty, and my hands came away brown as I heaved open the window.

2am in the morning and I couldn’t face to close my eyes.

Pathetic.



I skipped school.

My arms hurt too much, and my eyes felt too heavy. I didn’t want to go through it all, and I knew Kaitlin would notice today. I felt so, so old.

When mum had left, I took the tattoo book from underneath my pillow and slipped from the house, grabbing a five pound note on my way out.

The mall wasn’t too far and I bought a coffee on the way there, cradling it in my right hand and black book clutched in the other I walked into the mall and up to the second floor, careful to avoid any police. Skipping school wasn’t taken lightly.

I arrived at the tattoo parlour and glanced in, Alex sat behind his desk with another man, both bent over a magazine similar to last time and laughing. As I entered they both looked up and Alex grinned, the man beside him sighing and getting to his feet.

“Jasper! You brought the book back, good man.” said Alex, taking his feet down from the counter and leaning forward, hesitantly I placed the book down on the table, not saying a word. I wasn’t sure what to say, anyway.

“Take a seat, I have all day.” The man with him opened the door to the backroom, and slipped inside while Alex took the chair he had been sitting on and swung it round till it was to the side of his. Feeling awkward, I sat on the chair and raised my legs slightly.

When I sat my legs down, they looked fatter than they already were.

Alex didn’t notice the oddity turned to face me.

“Shouldn’t you be in school? You don’t look to good, mind you...”

“Yeah.” He paused, thinking what to say

“Did you choose a tattoo?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Page twenty nine, the one under the anti-Christ.”

Alex took the book from the table and flicked through the pages until he found the one I mentioned, then trailed his eyes down the sheet. A grin stretched onto his features.

“That’s a good choice; on your hip did you say?” I nodded “That’ll look amazing man.”

Yeah right. I’m so fat. Nothing will look good, and he knows it. He just wants me to spend my money, he thinks flattery will work. Well he’s right.

“How much is it?” I asked, skipping out what he just said. I was never sure how to respond to that sort of thing.

“Hmm... $180, around that I think, one second, Ashley!” He yelled the last part and I winced, he didn’t notice my reaction and kept his gaze trained on the battered door the man, Ashley, had gone through before. He re-emerged shaking his dark hair from his face.

“Yeah?”

“This tattoo, on the hip, how much are we talking?” Ashley came a little closer, squinting his brown eyes.

“How big?” Alex looked towards me, I shrugged.

“Can we measure the side of your hip then? I mean, you don’t seem to want it too big...” I shifted uncomfortably but nodded, measuring can’t be too bad, and it’s for a tattoo in the end. Even if I am fat, its worth it right?

“To the backroom!” Alex sprung to his feet and into the room Ashley had emerged from. I followed, slightly confused with Ashley behind me.

The back room was about a quarter of the size as the main room, painted white walls and a tiled floor, there were shelves filled with boxes and a desk and chair in the corner. Ashley picked a tape measure of the side, then turned to me, Ashley closed the door. I felt odd.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to do this in the main lobby, but I’m going to have to ask you to show me which hip you want done, pull your t-shirt up or something.” Fuck. He was going to see my fat. I was so disgusting, would he even tattoo me? Or was there some kind of law against how fat you have to be to get a tattoo?

Instead of voicing any of this, I kept in my mind that it was all worth it and pulled the edge of my vest top up, revealing the flesh of my hip. I watched with an odd sense of detachment as Alex lent down and pressed the cold of the tape measure to my hip. He stuck his tongue out and squinted at the numbers.

“I’d go for about... an extra small? We might have to make it a few centimetres bigger to fit completely but it’ll work.” He took the tape measure away and I quickly fixed my t-shirt back into place, flesh well and truly hidden.

“Can we see some ID? We can’t just let you get a tattoo with no identity.” asked Alex, pushing the tape measure into a drawer and swirling around on his feet to face me, a strange grin on his face.

“I’m 18 in one week, I’m coming back then.” I told him, trying not to let my words sink in. Eighteen. Life moved on too fast. He paused then nodded, opening the door the main room, I slipped out and just walked out from the shop, not bothering with a good bye.

I felt so odd.