Don't Ever Let Go of That Smile

I’ve always loved to draw; I’ve done it ever since I could remember. I could sing too, but drawing was my passion. You know when people have a talent, and more than likely they always say “I don’t know where I got my talent from. Neither my folks nor any of my family had that talent,”
Well, I know where I got my talent from; I got it from my father. He was, and still is, my inspiration to draw.

I remember coming home from school one day, I think I was about ten or eleven, and I walked straight up the stairs and into dad’s office. He was sitting at his desk when he noticed me standing there; he opened his arms and I ran straight into them and squeezed him with all my life. He picked me up, placed me on his lap and spun us around on the chair so we were facing the desk. He tapped a piece of paper with his index finger and I smiled big.

On the piece of paper was a drawing of me as an angel. Not to brag or anything but it was the most amazing drawing I had ever laid eyes on. Every little detail was absolutely perfect.
I was my dad’s little angel.

The next day he went into work and got it tattooed on him. Yep, that's right; my dad is a tattoo artist.

So I’m guessing you wanna know a little about me huh? Okay, well im sixteen, turning seventeen, I was born on October 12th 1990 to Pamela and John Harris. I have an older brother and two younger brothers; therefore I am the only girl.
Max is 19, Connor is 13 and little Peter is 10.
Mum is 38 and dad is 40.

I hung around with guys at school, instead of girls cause most girls annoyed me. I couldn’t deal with the fakeness and drama that always followed a girl’s school life. I hated myself sometimes and the drama that came with my school life. You could say I was considered a slut; girls didn’t like me hanging with guys at school because the guys talked to me more and joked around with me more and paid more attention to me. So they made rumours. I don’t care what people say about me, you either like me or you don’t. I’m not gonna sit in my room and cry over what some bitch thinks of me.
I remember getting into my first real fist fight with a girl from school. It was lunch time and as usual I was sitting with a bunch of guys and they were all teasing me because of my boobs; they weren’t exactly small, and they all thought I had a boob job, which I didn’t I just had big boobs. Anyway, this chick walks over and pushes me in the back and tells me to stand up. I ignored her and so she done it again. Long story short, she thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend so she slapped me and I punched her in the face.
That little incident got me a rep.

I loved to read and play outside with the family. I’m a very family orientated girl. I love going to big family events or birthdays and catching up with aunties and uncles and cousins and having a few drinks. I loved to party and have fun and run amuck with friends. Most of all, I loved playing drinking games.

I lived a happy life, I had a happy childhood. Like all families there are the arguments and petty verbal fights with the folks and the siblings; but that's normal. My parents were very loving and caring; if we were naughty we were smacked and sent to bed. I know the horror right? Wrong. These days, smacking a kid is considered child abuse.
My parents never laid a finger on me to purposely hurt me; they smacked me because I needed to be told what was right, and what was wrong. I don’t see any harm in smacking a child for being naughty. Kids these days are spoilt and chuck tantrums; why? Because they don’t get smacked!

I have a big family, relatives included, and we are all pretty close. My dad has four sisters that are all married.
Aunty Jolene, 38 and Uncle Todd have five kids. Matt who is 11, Charlee who is 9, the twins; Liam and Dylan who are 6 and little Courtney who is 4.
Aunty Brooke, who is dad’s twin and Uncle Ben have four kids. Renae who is 16, Alicia who is 13, Zoey who is 5 and Kurt who is 3.
Aunty Robyn, 35 and Uncle Derek have four kids. The other twins; Emily and Cody who are 10, Jarred who is 7 and Cole who is 5. And;
Aunty Lesley, 42 and Uncle Craig have three kids. Kate who is 18, Chad who is 15 and Chelsea who is 12.

Mum has three younger brothers.
Uncle Joel, 32 and Aunty Nat have two kids. Caroline who is 4 and baby Rachel who is only 3 months old.
Uncle Tony, 30 and Aunty Susan have one kid. Brittny who is 1. And:
Uncle Tim, 28 and Aunty Reagan have three kids. Taylor who is 6, Cameron who is 3 and Hayley who is 1.
I told you I have a big family.

It was a couple of days before school started and I was dreading it. Not that I hated school, I actually liked school. But being in school wasn’t getting me any closer to my dream; and that was to be like my dad.
I wanted, so badly, to become a tattoo artist. I wanted to share my work with everyone I possibly could. I wanted people to be able to see my art and love it; just like they do with my dad.

I had been sitting in my room all day, listening to music and singing along with it. I didn’t wanna annoy my mum seeing as I wanna talk to her about dropping out of school and working with dad. I already knew how to use the gun and everything there is to know about tattooing. What can I say; I wanted this so badly.

I heard the front door open then close and I bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen where I knew my dad would be. He had the fridge open and his head stuck inside it, looking for something to eat. I cleared my throat and he stood back up and closed the fridge.
He opened his arms and I walked into them, giving him a massive hug.

“How was work?” I asked. He smiled down at me and I smiled back.

“It were great, I outlined half a sleeve today an’ jus’ some little pieces,” I let go of him and mum walked into the kitchen. She gave him a kiss and I smiled. Hopefully one day I’ll meet someone, fall in love and have a happy life like my parents.

“I wanna talk to yeh guys for a sec,” they looked at me quizzically and we all sat down at the dining table.
“Okay, I’ve been thinkin’ abou’ this fer a while now an’ I wanna drop ou’ o’ school and work wif dad,” It was dead silent and I hated silence. I looked at my mum and her mouth was agape; I couldn’t read whether she was angry or shocked. I took a glance at my dad and he had a tiny smirk on his face. Ever since I was young he always told me that he wanted me to get into tattooing.
“I know this is a big thing I’m askin’; but this is the only thing I see mehself doin’. Nothin’ else tickles meh fancy. I love drawin’ an’ I wanna see my art on people’s bodies. I want people teh see my work an’ admire it,” they didn’t say anything and I was waiting with anticipation. I wanted so badly for them to say yes. They looked at each other and they both smiled and turned to me. At that point I couldn’t hold the excitement in and I squealed with joy.

“I wouldn’t let yeh do this if I knew yeh were gonn’ fail. I know yeh’ll achieve the same way yeh dad has and I’m so happy that you’re pursuin’ somethin’ tha’ makes yeh happy,” I jumped up from the table, ran around it and jumped into my mum’s arms.

“Thank yeh, thank yeh, thank yeh. I won’t let yeh down, either of yeh,”