Chapter Fourteen

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FOURTEEN

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mrs Greene questioned with caution as we walked into the small shop close to school.

"Yes!" I replied; she had doubted my idea since I told her early this morning.

I smiled as Mrs Greene sighed once more, shaking her head – I could tell that she was slightly amused, though. The bell chimed, signalling to the workers in the shop that someone had walked in, and I saw a large man stand up and make his way over to us. I took a small step back, hiding slightly behind Mrs Greene as he moved closer and she held tightly onto my arm. The man was covered in tattoos and had multiple piercings but had a huge smile on his face – I guess you should never judge a book by its cover.

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~Earlier that morning~

English class went by very quickly – I had not been paying attention once again as I was too caught up in my thoughts. When the bell rang, I slowly packed up my stuff into my bag and walked over to Mrs Greene's desk where she was sat grading the essays that we had completed in class the other day.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I asked quietly, causing Mrs Greene to jump up in shock.

"Sorry – I didn't realise that you were there!" She exclaimed. "So, what did you need?"

"I was thinking last night..." I hesitated.

"And..." She continued.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Well, that's great Rachel. Why did you need me?"

"Because I was wondering if you would take me to get it?"

"Oh?"

"Yes! You are the closest thing I have to a mother and..."

"Well, I can only take you if you agree to think about it more."

"Mrs Greene, I really do appreciate your concern but I have thought about this tattoo a lot and I really want to get it done before Ethan comes home."

"Before Ethan comes home?"

"Y-yes, I wanted to get something for him..."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely."

*     *     *     *     *

I looked around the room in awe – there were multiple drawings that I assumed were previous tattoos that the tattoo artist had done. All of the drawings were very detailed and many looked very lifelike – I knew we had chosen the right place.

After talking to the man, who informed us that he was the owner, I pulled Mrs Greene over to a black, leather dentist-style chair where he had walked over to. I sat down and pulled down the strap of the tank top Mrs Greene lent me – I did not have any clothes that would be able to cover up my bruises and give easy access to my shoulder. The tattoo artist drew out a stencil of what I described and then continued with the procedure; I had no idea what was going to happen as I did not know anyone who had tattoos and I did not have permission to have a computer or watch television so I had never seen the procedure take place. The man, whose name tag read 'Steven', somehow traced the stencil onto my skin leaving a purple-blue coloured outline before pulling out an electric needle and some blue and black ink.

I turned around after taking a big look at the needle that would shortly be working its 'magic' on my skin. I gulped and looked at Mrs Greene, attempting to smile but I'm almost certain that it looked more like a grimace. She took my hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze in attempt to calm my nerves; She always managed to know what I was both thinking and feeling.

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