The Untold Story of Alice // Ed Sheeran

Grade 8

She grabbed my hand and stepped off the edge of the cliff. It seemed that way, anyway. It was more like a street corner, but it seemed greater then that. I know why it feels this way. I know why I feel like I can't breathe. It was the place we were going.

We stepped into the tattoo parlor. The place smoky and cluttered. I looked over at Alice, to catch her reaction. Yet, she seemed even more out in space then the drug addict, getting a tattoo on his neck. I flinched more than he did, he just sat there, chewing on a sandwich.

I turned to her and tried to keep my smile up. She was the one who was excited about this. Not me. I ask, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Alice grins and nods, "More than I'll ever be."

Why? Why was I letting her do this to herself. I knew, later down the road, she was going to regret it. Probably when we get into one of our huge debacles and she looks down on her arm or wrist, or even ankle, and thinks to herself, 'Why the hell would I get this thing?' It's bound to happen sooner or later.

I went with it though. I didn't want her to get upset because I refused to get a similar tattoo with her. See, I wouldn't mind if it was a simple one or something that meant something, like me. Mine are sometimes very random, but hey, it happens. Yet, Alice wanted us to get some relationship tattoo that would always be there. See, I have her name, but also that's different. I can cover that shit with something, like a shirt or a hoodie. Where Alice wants ours, well, you can't cover it.

She wants them on our wrists. I know I have a lot of tattoos and most people don't really pay too close of attention to just right there, on me. Yet, they see Alice with that, they are going to wonder. Plus, if one day(which I hope never happens), we do break up, it would be a constant reminder of my failure and the love we once had. How would I ever get passed her with a it tattooed on my freaking wrist. See, where I have her name, I won't see it everyday, all day long. And I would eventually get it covered over just ignore it. It would be painful to get one covered on my wrist.

Alright, it isn't about the pain. I'm all for tattoos, actually. It doesn't exactly hurt anymore. Yet, it was more about the way it was stuck there forever. Like I said before, this was a mistake.

"Why don't you just get my name tattooed to you. Then, Al, we'd be incredibly even." I offer, but she shakes her head no.

"That would be incredibly dumb, don't you think Ed?" she says and I roll my eyes.

"I have your name on me,"

"Yeah, in a place no one will ever see, except maybe me or your doctor,"

"Well, getting a tattoo almost everyone gets, well, that isn't original at all and I know how much you want to be unique. So, why can't we just get something no one would know strings us together, except us. Only we would know what it means." I say, almost pleading. Why couldn't she just say yes.

"Like what?"

"Your name."

Alice sighs, "You already have my name."

"No, honey, your name."

"Your name?" she asks, scrunching up her nose is confusion. I nod, grinning. It was weird and unique and odd. See, it's different and no one would know what it meant. They would just think it was random.

"You cannot be serious,"

"Oh, but I am," I say. "I am so serious."

She whacks my arm playfully and shakes her head, "Alright."

My smile spreads even wider than before. We walk towards the desk, where the tattoo artist sat patiently. I glanced back at Alice. I wondered if she was scared or even a little bit nervous. It didn't seem that way. Maybe she just didn't know how it felt yet.