Tattoo

• Aleesha Wild, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2017

The night was unusually bright as I held your hand. As you laughed and stopped at a car that I'd never seen before. My grin widened as you started writing our names in a not so perfect heart, reminding me of the night we met. I knew our names were only temporary, similar to the warmth of your hand holding mine. Similar to the first bouquet of flowers you got me, white roses, my favorite. As water drizzles from the dark gray sky, you took your jacket off and held it over me. Smiling as drops of water bounce off, I felt safe with your arm around me, our height difference not major but I found that 1 cm comforting. We walked past pubs, warmth, and laughter escaping out the doors as we cross the road. You whisper "I lov-" My world was never the same as a car horn piercing the tranquility interrupted you. I called to you but you pushed me to safety leaving you no time. I watch, helpless, as my soul is ripped from my body, your lifeless body hits the ground. I run to your side, broken, that was the end. Months later the memories of helplessness still haunt my dreams. I finally worked up the courage to go to the place you never made it to, the place where we were going to be with each other forever. A little tattoo parlor down Cambell street. I cringe as a bell rings when I open the door, I look at the stack of magazines sitting on a small coffee table surrounded by 4 chairs in a small room, framed in tacky wallpaper. before I have a chance to sit down a middle aged woman covered head to toe in tattoos asked: "Hello miss, what can I do for you?" I tell her and she nods in reply. I follow her into a smaller room. Your name, now written to the left of my upper back, now a forever, you're with me. the tattooist acquires "do you miss her?" Even though I know she's not here I know she's with me, every beat of my heart is in rhythm with her. I will try, for her, to live, to be happy. "I always will."