Blasted

Chapter 1

All of my friends swore to me that getting your first tattoo was no big deal, but now that I was here, my anxiety began to kick in. I watched as a woman with bright red hair, arms full of bright colorful tattoos took a new needle out of its package and put it into the tattoo gun. She set her supplies on a little table that looked like something a doctor would use during surgery and my heart began to race. What if it hurts too bad? What if I flinch and she messes up? What if I pass out? I had decided on a small peacock feather on the back of my neck. I had thought they were beautiful since I was little, and had planned to get it tattooed on me as soon as I turned 18. Now, quickly approaching my 20th birthday, I decided to put my fear aside and go for it. I quickly came back to reality and got chills as the woman wiped an alcohol-soaked paper towel down the spot where my tattoo was going.

“I need you to sit down in this chair and bend your head forward.” I did as she said and closed my eyes. I guess there's no turning back now.

“Are you ready?” I sighed, anxiety washing through my body making me lightheaded. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

She rested her hand on my shoulder and moved the tattoo gun closer to my skin.

“I can stop anytime you want, so tell me if it hurts too bad. Just try not to move. Take a deep breath and I'm gonna start on three. One...two...”

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the pain. I let out a sigh of relief as I felt the needle hit my skin for the first time. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but it wasn't pleasant either. Luckily, the size of my tattoo wasn't that big and it shouldn't take more than an hour or so. After a few seconds the woman stopped. “Doing okay?” I managed to let out a quiet “yep” and she went on. The burning sensation continued for a few minutes and it didn't bother me much. But when she worked her way up to hit one of the bones in my neck, I flinched. This was much worse than when we first started. I began to panic. I'm not gonna be able to deal with this for much longer. I brought my fist up to my mouth and bit down on one of my fingers, trying to take the pain elsewhere. I opened my eyes, thinking that maybe if I focused on watching something else, my mind would wander away from the pain. My eyes immediately focused on a guy across the room partially facing me. He sat in a chair like the one I was in, wearing black jeans and plain white tee shirt, one of the sleeves rolled up to his shoulder. I couldn't see exactly what, but he was getting something tattooed on his bicep. He had brown hair shaved into a buzz cut and I saw a few more tattoos placed strategically in different spots on his arm. He must have been used to getting tattoos because his expression was soft, focused on his phone screen and not showing any signs of being in pain. He must have felt me watching him because he glanced up at me with a strange look on his face. I quickly glanced back down and closed my eyes again, embarassed. The woman doing my tattoo paused and asked me how I was doing. “Okay I guess. Are you close to being done?”

“I'm about halfway finished, but you're doing great. Do you need to take a break?” I thought about the guy across the room. He had at least 4 or 5 tattoos from what I could see, he would probably judge me if I got up to take a break during this small tattoo. I knew nothing about him but felt the need to impress him. Glancing back at him for a split second, I took a deep breath. “Nope, I'm good. You can carry on.“

I bit down on my lip as I felt the sting of the needle hit the back of my neck again. I decided there was nothing I could really do except close my eyes and wait for it to be finished, so I did just that. Out of sight, out of mind. My breathing was shaky and shallow and I tried to be patient, but the pain was getting to be too much. I opened my eyes and as much as I tried to stop it, tears started to form. I couldn't reach up and wipe them away so I just had to let them fall down my face, as embarrassing as it was. The tattoo needle hit my bone again and I began to get dizzy. This is exactly what I was afraid of- passing out. I closed my eyes for a few seconds to try to regain my composure and as I opened them, the guy I was watching earlier was standing a few feet in front of me. He must have finished with his tattoo as his arm was wrapped in a bandage, sleeve still rolled up. He was leaning up against the counter next to where I was sitting and before I had time to think, he walked toward me, kneeling down in front of me and looking me in the eyes.