I was sane. I knew it. I just did. Everyone did except society.
I sat with a phone to my ear another time. The top of it to my ear another time. The end of it to mouth another time. The dry taste of blood and spit mixed in my mouth another time. My hair in a netted mat of tangles... another time. No other time like the first one.
My gaze laid on the other side of the glass. On a beautiful... woman. I looked her in the eyes. How could she have known? She smiled at me."I remember it all. I remember what you don't. I remember what you do. I remember what you should. I remember what could have been. I remember that tree. I remember. Though I know there is pain right now, I do not feel it. Do not cry because as it fades, I do not feel it. When it is gone, so will I be. Maybe in mind, but never in spirit and soul. I will join you," she whispered.
If she spoke much louder, they would know she was just as insane as I was told to be.
Her tattoo had been fading since it had appeared. Her voice seemed fuller than the day she had received the mark on her cheek. She had grown up."Please... you have to stop visiting me. They are going to put you where I am now," I begged.
"Why should I care when I am only... what I am?"
"You are more than this mission you believe you are on."
She scoffed. "Why does it matter to you? Why should it matter... if I am on the wrong side of the glass?"
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This Side Of The Glass
General FictionAt birth, the Artist takes ink to your skin in beautiful twirls and swirls. It's said that those with the same tattoo are soul mates, but that's not the point. In the ink... is the day that death will graze your mind as it pulls you to what wai...