Tattoos

Birthdays and Tattoos

I woke up on my twelfth birthday and immediately ran into the bathroom.

The first thing I noticed upon looking in the mirror was the dark circles under my eyes.

I don't sleep much anyways, four hours a night tops, but I was restless the previous evening.

The next day was November 20th, or in other words, my birthday.

Normally, I wouldn't care. A birthday is just a birthday. Another twenty-four hours dedicated to celebrating you being a year older.

However this year, I was turning twelve. This meant I was getting my tattoo.

Everyone got theirs when they reached age twelve. We don't know why it was specifically twelve, but no one really questioned it. This tattoo essentially set my future into motion.

There was one other person out there with a tattoo, just like mine. I was destined to marry this person, wether it be male or female. And I would live with them happily for the rest of my life.

I looked all over my face and neck in the reflection of the mirror. Nothing. I tugged my shirt off quickly and looked back to the image in the glass. It wasn't on my chest or collarbone, so I attempted to look at my back. I reached up in attempt to pull my shoulder forwards more when I noticed something on my hand.

I quickly whipped around, bringing my hands down to inspect them. Then I really saw it.

An anchor on my thumb.

This small image is what would connect me to the woman or man I would spend my forever with.

I ran down the stairs to my parents. They were already awake and making breakfast. Or at least, my mom was. My dad was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. My mom already knew what was going on.

"Well, Michael. Let's see it." She said with a smile. This made my dad tear his gaze from the paper. He smiled at me when he saw my bright expression.

I held my hand out to my mom. She grabbed it and looked at the mark. Her face got three times brighter. My dad came over and looked at it. He grinned.

"It's nice, Mike." He praised. I internally cringed at the nickname. I really hated it, but I didn't want to burst his bubble.

"Thanks dad. Can I see you and mom's?" I asked. I did this often. Ask to see their tattoos, that is. My mom nodded eagerly. She loved showing hers off. She tugged the collar of her shirt down a bit, exposing the arrow lining her collarbone. My dad simply held out his arm. His was on top of his wrist where a watch face would sit.

I stared happily at the matching marks. I looked at the clock. It was only seven in the morning, but if I really tried Calum would get up.

"Mom, dad, can I go show Cal?" I asked. I knew they would say yes. They had agreed yesterday that I could go show Calum whenever I wanted to.

"Go ahead, honey. Be careful." My mom answered. I smiled and ran to the front door. I tugged on my shoes before running out the door and hopping on my bike.

I sped all the way to Cal's house, as if it was really that far away. It was just a few streets down. I pulled into his driveway, eagerly hopping off of my bike.

I jogged up to the door, immidiately knocking. As I waited for someone to answer the door, I bounced up and down.

After what felt like forever, Mali-Koa opened the door. She released a yawn.