The Tattoo Guy (MCR FIC)

Chapter 10- Age 18

Chapter 10

Age 18

Sitting in my basement, in the dark room where I was never pushed to leave until Monday morning, where I sulked to when I got home and wasn’t seen again till my mother called me for diner although even then I often declined. I sat and thought about what Frank told me the other day, wondering if he had his tattoo yet but since that day I hadn’t seen him; not that I looked for him I just wanted to know, people who had my art on their skin came back to show me; even though I didn’t like needles I still admired to beauty of the ink impaled in the skin. My basement was my bedroom, my palace, it always had been. Surrounded by small slips of paper scrawled on with comic strips and bigger sketches clipped to a wall, by band posters and movie posters to block out as much light as I could, it was filled with bats, books and board games- games I hadn’t played since I was younger- when I actually had friends. In my Star Wars pj bottoms and baggy hoodie I climbed off my bed to go up to the kitchen to refill my own coffee stash; unknowing what time it was I was shocked to see how bright is was on the main floor of the house, how my mom was at work and Mikey somewhere out with his friends that never really mattered to me as long as he was safe. I needed to do things today to get my mind off of things, off of the fear and anxiety of being totally clueless about the world around me.

I hear the doorbell ring. I usually never answer when I’m on my own, but for some reason I feel the need to answer it like a pull to the dark wooden door. What I didn’t expect to see on the other side was a sobbing Lyn-z wet through with rain and holding a small backpack; her eyes were puffy and swollen, her long black hair stringing to her face in the rain and her blouse fit to her body with no other cover such as a coat.

“Lyn-z come in, come in.” I say opening the door wider instantly and as she steps in she drops her bag as I close the door behind her, she practically jumps into my arms wailing and sobbing in a hurtful fit of tears raking her body against mine pressing her wet attire against mine.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Gee. I had nowhere else to go, my parents threw me out and I thought of you.” She says, I try to calm her stroking her hair and rocking her gently.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, everything will be fine. Shhh.” I coo to her, she wraps her arms around my neck and snuggles her head against my chest. I feel that flutter of my heart; that tingle in my veins but at the same time like I can’t breathe- here this beautiful girl is seeking me for her comfort, the girl who has attacked me with words and spite leaving me and using me. He verbal bullying made my day a living hell yet every time she spoke I noticed her voice quiver and how her tone wasn’t matching the cold words she expelled from her mouth- the same thing that made me blush when she looked at me and the secretive touches in the halls make every hair stand on end.

I take her down to the basement in hopes to get her dry and warm enough to talk; it isn’t as intimate as the last time we were down here together- instead it’s almost the opposite I care for her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that with one touch she’d break into a thousand pieces, settled on my bed in my fluffy skeleton onesie she looks adorable, her hair had dried to a little curl and she had stopped sobbing to look emotionless.

I place my hand on hers resting on her knee, “What’s wrong? How could your parents…” I sigh and shake my head- they forced her out in the rain with nowhere to go, it must be serious if she couldn’t go to her friends.

“I’m pregnant.” She says and it’s as if a release of air from her lungs causes her to deflate she avoids my eyes and for a short moment I see the Lyn-z I loved as a child.

She was pregnant. The rumours were true. There was going to be a life brought into the world in however months’ time. I wasn’t even sure to ask if it was mine- for some reason I knew it was- but did I want this baby? Could I cope with this baby? I was a high school outcast that couldn’t even look after himself, too long hair and too ‘emo’ to even be considered an actual person with feelings. I had always been independent but responsible- for a child none the less- I wasn’t sure.

“I’m 11 weeks gone, it is yours but you already know that, I’m sorry Gee- I don’t want to get rid of it. I’ll understand if you want us to go.” Us. A part of me. My little family we had created.

“No don’t go. I’ll be here for you and the baby I promise.” I say as she’s about to get up off the bed, touching her wrist, she gasps and sits closer now.

“I don’t know how it happened.” She says with a little sniffle and rests her head in the crevice of my neck and shoulder.

“Well certainly no stork is delivering it in a white cloth… I guess we were a bit stupid although not completely irresponsible.” I say trying to lighten the mood but realise nothing could- not even thinking of becoming a parent, something I’d always wanted- albeit a long time into the future.

“It was out first time. I have a 12 weeks scan next week- would you like to come? I don’t think I want to be alone.” She says tracing small circles on the palm of my upturned left hand.

“Sure- I’d love to, I said I’d be here for you and I meant it- I don’t want to miss a single heartbeat.” I smile meeting her eyes for the first time, I peck her forehead and she places her hand in mine pulling is down to lie on the bed whilst our eyes drift shut. Sleeping next to the girl I knew I loved who was carrying our baby seemed unreal but in my world of naïveté I pictured every possible outcome of the scan- boy or girl, my eyes or hers, freckles or no freckles, innie or outie, smart or average, artistic or sporty….