Permanent// H.S.

Chapter 3

Ashley~

I lock up the tattoo shop following the same routine of making sure the door is closed before walking down the street. Ryan asked if I wanted to come over tonight but I declined. She does that sometimes if she thinks I could use an energy boost which I appreciate but only sometimes. I am back to being sad that is for sure, but I must say that seeing Harry today made me feel something like never before.

He was so captivating and even though I could barely look him in the eyes, as cheesy as it sounds, it almost feels like we connected. Not in a romantic way or anything, I just felt that there was something more to Harry and now I was curious.

Ryan would not shut up about the apparent "puppy dog eyes he had for me." Which made me laugh because Harry was the last thing from a puppy dog. His fingers were rough and he had bruises on his ribs. I know what goes on around here, and it wouldn't surprise me if Harry has gotten into a few fights, but I definitely don't see him as a gang member.

I mean he was getting a butterfly tattoo, what precious soul can get a butterfly tattoo and also be a part of a man killing, drug trafficking, weapon distributing gang?

The reason I declined hanging out with Ryan was because I rode my bike to work today. As much as Ryan does help me when I feel down, I have also learned how to help myself. One of the ways I do that is by riding my motorbike around the city.

I started riding when I was 16, my dad always had a Harley Davidson so I have always had a special place in my heart for motorcycles. They make me think of him. So as soon as I turned old enough to drive I knew that a bike would be my main transportation not a car.

The freeing feeling that surrounds me as I whip through the city streets is undecidable. I let all of my worries leave my body along with the wind that trails behind my speed.

My bike is only a year old and I bought it when I was at a really low point in life. I needed something to get me out of my apartment that wasn't my job, and since I only have one friend I decided this was the next best option.

The bike is all black and it is very sleek. I was drawn to it because it was nothing like I have owned before. I still have my one back in New England that I ride when I visit home, but that one is much more of a roadster compared to this one which is more of a sportbike.

I walk up to my bike and I always worry something bad might happen to it, but thankfully nothing yet. I pull out the helmet that is tucked away into my backpack which is now practically empty besides my phone, ipad, and sketch book. I braided my hair back in the shop so it would be out of my face, allowing me to slip on my helmet easily.

I lift my leg straddling the seat and turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars as I reverse the handles, kicking up the kick stand before speeding away. Even through my helmet I can feel the wind surround me. Normally I would listen to music, but not tonight. Tonight I want to take every sensory in.

I take a tight turn around the corner leaving the street my shop is on. Immediately I look up at the heart of the city. The tall skyscrapers reach the nighttime sky. I weave between cars, sometimes getting honked at for my behavior but I didn't care. I felt free.

I love this city with all my heart and as much as it hurt me sometimes I knew I was meant to be here. I just felt it. Plus if we were meant to stay in the same place our whole lives we would have roots instead of feet. I miss home but it is times like these where cold empty New England is the last thing I miss.

I enjoy riding through the city looking up into apartment buildings and seeing a small glimpse, for a very short time, of someone else's life. I drive past someone's window who has twinkle lights on and I watch as, what appears to be a cat, hop up onto their desk walking over top of their computer keys making them lean back in their chair and smile.