Tattooed
1
I sit back in the chair waiting for the pain that was about to begin. My body froze and I began to sweat along with my shaking hands. I was so nervous that I was frozen by the thought of this permanent scar upon my body, for all of the rest of time. Coming back to reality, I see this total stranger walking towards me with a needle ready and willing in one hand. “Are you sure about this Miss?” he enquired. I nodded and my mind was racing for one long moment I sat in the leather chair thinking of what had led me here and the previous victims of this beautiful torture. All of the possibilities, what will happen and what will people think. The next five minutes seemed to last forever.
Tall street lights surveying all around. The sky like a desolate canvas painted black, the moon now showing pain. The loud rumbles and bright flashes of thunder and lightning in the distance, intrude on the ghostly roads that were once lined with happy children and busy adults. The muscular trees shake as if they are scared of the pandemonium above. I make my way home through the haunted streets of a deserted town.
The familiar streets are distant and dark. Turning into the driveway I call my own, rain soaking me, as if an ocean clawing at me. A heated body and freezing rain mix. The door is a mix of ice cold and burning heat. The smell as the door opens, it disgusts me, the man I call father passed out on the couch. As smells of liquor overcome the rooms, Snores invade the loud terrain outside, mother out at work still. 'Work, work, work, is all that woman ever does' thoughts dive and duck around in my head. The squeaks as I trudge up the stairs towards the bathroom, the towel, so soft.
Finally warm after a long day, climbing into the inviting cosiness of my bed. I’m slowly drifting towards unconsciousness. Only to wake up in a field, so calm, warm, yet mysterious. Tall tree's sheltering this place from the busy world around. Sat drawing, my drawings have always been precious to me. Suddenly I'm aware that I am no longer alone, I slowly close my pad and look around. There near the edge of the trees under the canopy, stood a creature with what looked to be wings, baby blue to be precise. Yet the rest of him looked just like any other boy my age.
Tall street lights surveying all around. The sky like a desolate canvas painted black, the moon now showing pain. The loud rumbles and bright flashes of thunder and lightning in the distance, intrude on the ghostly roads that were once lined with happy children and busy adults. The muscular trees shake as if they are scared of the pandemonium above. I make my way home through the haunted streets of a deserted town.
The familiar streets are distant and dark. Turning into the driveway I call my own, rain soaking me, as if an ocean clawing at me. A heated body and freezing rain mix. The door is a mix of ice cold and burning heat. The smell as the door opens, it disgusts me, the man I call father passed out on the couch. As smells of liquor overcome the rooms, Snores invade the loud terrain outside, mother out at work still. 'Work, work, work, is all that woman ever does' thoughts dive and duck around in my head. The squeaks as I trudge up the stairs towards the bathroom, the towel, so soft.
Finally warm after a long day, climbing into the inviting cosiness of my bed. I’m slowly drifting towards unconsciousness. Only to wake up in a field, so calm, warm, yet mysterious. Tall tree's sheltering this place from the busy world around. Sat drawing, my drawings have always been precious to me. Suddenly I'm aware that I am no longer alone, I slowly close my pad and look around. There near the edge of the trees under the canopy, stood a creature with what looked to be wings, baby blue to be precise. Yet the rest of him looked just like any other boy my age.