The Girl With Tattoos • Original Version

The Girl With Tattoos (12)

Putting on some black leggings and my leather jacket, I stuffed my phone in the rim of my pants. Quickly throwing on some vans, I grabbed my sketchbook and left the house through the garage, locking the small door.

As I turned around to face the driveway, the picture in front of me made me stop for a second, a smile stretching over my face. Bright, white stars littered the dark sky, an almost full moon popping out against the small specks. A cool breeze cooled me off even more than the chilly night air already did. Trees in the distance were filled in black with their big, fluffy tops outlining the horizon. It was mostly silent, except for the occasional hoot of the owl or the song of the insects. I took in all the beauty of nature, waking down the familiar sidewalk leading to nowhere. Soon, the bench facing the small park sat underneath the dim street light, casting a shadow onto the road. Sitting down, another breeze blew my hair to the side, making my hairs stick up on my neck.

I picked up my frequently used pencil and drew everything in sight. The swings swaying back and forth with the occasional squeak. The blue twisty slide and the red slide going straight down. A sandbox with one sad little sandcastle near the edge, footprints, leaves, and holes scattered around. Flowers, bushes, and trees scattered all over the place, making it seem more natural than it really was. It was cute. It looked to fun to play in, even if the rusty chains of the old swing with one lousy poke.

After what seemed like an eternity later, my drawing was complete. I wasn't proud of it, but it definitely wasn't the worst thing I've ever done. Sighing, I leaned the back of my neck on the bench, letting the light soak into my skin, the breeze tickle my nose.

I smiled when Chase's pale green eyes flooded my vision as I stared at the sparkling galaxy in front of me. Chase and I, after dad went to bed, would sometimes climb up the water pipe on the side of the house. We would sit on the roof and watch the trees sway, listening to nothing but the calm wind and our gentle breathing. Our legs would be hanging off the edge, my head on his shoulder, and neither of us would say a word for hours, just patiently waiting for the sun to rise. As the yellow blob rose above everything surrounding us, he would softly kiss my head, whispering 3 simple words into my hair, and I would whisper them back. Chase and I were a family; my only true family. We were loved and carefree, not having to pitch in to pay the bills by walking the neighbor's dogs for a few bucks. I felt like a normal daughter in a normal house when it was just us two together, slowly dominating the world.

With him, I could talk without breaking down.

My smile stayed glued to my face and the tear that fell from my eye left a wet trail down my cheek, across the corner of my mouth and dripped off my chin.

I remained that way for a while, the breeze keeping me company.

"Gracie? Is that you?"

A voice made me jump out of my skin and look around for the owner.

Claudie stood there, dressed in pink joggers and a blue hoodie, holding in his laughter as he watched me look at him with annoyance.

"Oops," He shrugged it off with a smile, plopping down next to me. "So, what brings a little lady like you out here at 4 am?" How ironic, you're shorter than me Claudie. "Hm, interesting. I have that noted." 

Pulling my phone out, I shoved the message 'Why are you out here at 4 am shorty?' in front of him.

He laughed softly, pushing the bright screen out of his face. "One, I'm not short." I gave him a look of disbelief, feeling the laugh creeping up my throat. "And do you really want to know?"

Shrugging, he smiled and leaned back, his legs stretching outward. 

"You ready?" Nodding, he took a deep breath.

"My dad is why I'm out here so late. Everyday day around four, my dad gets home from work. He works alongside his best friend for a business they own dealing with insurance or some shit like that. That place is his first home, and the house with his family tucked inside is his second. We used to be so close, him being my favorite parent, but now I only see him on the weekends when he's working on his laptop in the kitchen or when I get ready for school and he's sleeping on the couch. My mother won't let him sleep near her as she caught him cheating with some girl in his office. They both won't file for divorce because they believe that children deserve two parents in their lives to correctly raise them. My mother was also 7 months pregnant with Zariah and Elanah, the twins and babies of the family, who are both now 5," he stopped to take a breather and looked at me. Nudging him slightly, he smiled softly and continued. "I come to this spot almost every day so I don't have to hear him come inside or interact with him. It's pretty cowardly of me, but what can I say? I'm a coward." He stared forward as he talked as if he pictured everything he said as he spoke. 

The laugh from earlier has plummeted back down my throat. 

Who knew one question could make a grown ass teenager spill everything trapped inside his mind?

I raised an eyebrow at him and Claudie chuckled, his head hanging low. "I did not expect to spit all that out today. I did warn you, though."

Asking if I wanted to know and if I was ready was not an adequate warning.

"So, on a less depressing note, you live around here? Not many people just wander over here. It's pretty rare to even see a car."

Sighing, I slowly nodded, feeling defeated when I couldn't think of an appropriate lie.

"Awesome! Maybe you can come over to mine and make my house feel a little more lively."

Laughing, I looked over at him and his brown eyes locked with mine. They fell down my face, his eyebrows scrunching together. The edge of his eyes creased as he concentrated on something as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His hand grabbed my chin softly, his thumb caressing my jaw. A sharp pain flooded my face, making me cringe and turn away.

"Gracie, what the fuck happened? That definitely wasn't there this morning!" He growled lowly, leaning in to inspect it closer. "It's the size of a fist! Did someone punch you?!" His voice wavered with anger, the grip on my jaw tightening.

Grabbing his wrist, I pulled away from his hand, quickly shaking my head.

"Who the fuck hit you?" He persisted, standing up to give me a hard look.

I shook my head again and quickly typed out 'I tripped' in a desperate attempt to keep my injury under wraps. He read the message as he snatched my phone from my hand and snorted unattractively.

"That's a bullshit excuse. I know what a punch to the face looks like and a bruise like that doesn't form because you tripped and smacked your face on the ground." 

My mind went blank as the word 'Grace' raced through my mind. Nobody has called me that for years and I'm not quite sure I'm used to it just yet.

"Gracie? Are you okay? Has the shit you just tried to pull on finally get to your brain?" His hand squeezed my shoulder as he tried to bring me back to reality. "So, are you going to tell me who hit you so I can beat them into oblivion?"

I smiled, sticking with my first excuse. Claudie sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes and checked his watch.

"Well, I have to head home before I get slapped the fuck outta my body for being out of the house at night." He turned around and started walking away but turned back quickly. "Don't think this is over, Miss Marollo because at school I'm going to be asking questions until you finally get annoyed and cane in. Don't worry, I won't be the only one." He playfully winked at me and jogged away as the time ticked 4:15. I watched his small figure sway back and forth until he completely blended in with the darkness, out of sight but not out of mind.

Why does nothing go my way?