My First Tattoo

It started at around six o-clock on a mid-August day. I had just gotten out of school when my friend, whose child I had babysat the other weekend, messaged me telling me she had the money for me. When I went to pick the money up I had a genius idea: I can get a tattoo. So I messaged my friend Layton, who does tattoos, and asked him if he would give me a tattoo. To which he said yes because he had to buy diapers. I told him I would be there in a bit and sent him a picture of what I wanted so that he could draw it up. My mind and heart was racing. How do I hide it from my mom? Will it hurt? What if I don’t like it? On the way home I was thinking of ways to get to Layton without my mom being suspicious, and that is when I thought of Emerson. Not only will he take me, but he will make sure everything goes the way it’s supposed too. The phone rang for a couple seconds before he picked up, I told him what I was planning and asked if he was in, after a couple seconds of thought he said he would pick me up at eight. I walked through my front door to find my mother and tell her that I would be out, and when asked how long I would be I told her no later than ten. But when I looked up at the clock and mentally kicked myself, That gives me roughly two hours to get the tattoo, and that is if Emerson picks me up on time. It was eight- thirty when I got the text from Emerson telling me he was outside. I skipped down my drive way and into Emerson’s black BMW. He then bombarded me with a million and two questions on if I was going to be okay and apologizing because he couldn’t stay.  He is always worried about me. But I guess someone has to be.  As we pulled up to the he tells me that if Layton tries again to call him so that he can beat him up. I just laughed and thanked him. Turning around I got a better look of the motel; I noticed that it is a rundown white and blue motel that probably hasn’t had maintenance called since the 90’s. I walked up the unstable stairs and knocked on the room number he gave me. A couple seconds later a woman with a baby answered the door and behind her I see Layton cleaning his tattoo gun. The woman who answered the door introduces herself as his girlfriend and the baby she was holding as their baby. I tell Layton that I have limited time to which he responds to by pointing me to the bathroom so I can get ready. After I get ready, I sit backwards in the car and he starts the outline on my shoulder. I heard the buzzing of his gun, and could feel his cold hands on my back. From there it’s a blur of him asking if it was my first tattoo repeatedly because he could not believe how still I was for it being my first time, shark week on discovery channel and crying baby. It felt as if I were getting a massage where the masseuse scratched me. It felt like it had only taken at most thirty minutes when he told me it was time to look and see if I liked it. Looking in the mirror I gasped, it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. I had him take a picture of it and when he handed me back my phone I realized that it was nine-fort. I had roughly fifteen minutes to be home. I got dressed as fast as I could leaving my bra straps down in fear it would harm the tattoo. I thanked Layton for his time and energy as I paid him and left. I rushed down the stairs while I called Emerson to see if he was picking me up. No answer. I tried again and again and still no answer. I looked down to check the time and it was nine forty-five, slipping my phone into my pocket I began to run. I knew it was pointless but I had to give it a shot. I had to make it home by ten. So I ran through the streets of Holbrook. I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t stop to see if I were being followed, as I usually do, I didn’t look behind me, I didn’t even stop to tie my shoe, I just ran. I ran even faster when my house came into view, I ran up the steps and to the door, as soon as I opened the door I took out my phone and looked at the time. And in front of my eyes the times changed from nine-fifty-nine, to ten o-clock sharp. I had made it. Filled with adrenaline I rushed to the bathroom to take off my shirt and get a better look. My tattoo looked better the more I looked at it. After I pulled myself away from the mirror, I walked to my room with a feeling I had never felt before, mischievous. I walked into my room and started getting ready for bed when my little sister woke up and asked my why my shirt was off and why I had the lights on, at first she thought I was lying about getting a tattoo until I showed her to which he immediate reaction was to tell my how pretty it was and how screwed I was if mom found out. I told her she wouldn’t have to worry about it because mom wouldn’t find out. I climbed into bed with a smile on my face, and fell asleep to the image of my tattoo in my mind.