Hey, I'm Sam and I want to tell you a story. I promise, I'll keep it quick, I just need to talk to someone. That's all.
When I was sixteen, I was an outspoken girl; I was honest, and loyal, and everything someone wanted in a friend. Unfortunately, people took advantage of me, in more ways than one. I was always the person who would fetch someone a drink, I was the fierce girl who'd take the hit if their friend was in trouble. I was the girl foolish enough to trust her "friend" and got herself raped! Yeah. I'm that girl.
I lost who I was, for a while. I guess I've found myself lost again. You see, I was chubby, I hated the way I looked, and no-one needed me; I served no purpose. Eventually, my hatred took over me, I began slicing and cutting and hitting myself and headbutting things. I went into self-destruct, and I liked it. The sudden power over myself, I could momentarily forget my troubles with one quick swipe of an icy blade. This went on for some time, a month or maybe a year, before I realised that temporary relief wasn't enough anymore. I gave myself two options, live or die; I chose the former.
To truly start living, I decided that I needed to change what I wasn't happy with, and go from there. I began to lose weight, and look after my body.
One day, I was left to tidy the kitchen, when I rolled up my sleeves I saw my scars. The marks of my battle with my dark past. I decided I wanted to change those too. I sat down and started thinking how I could get rid of them; how do I finally rid myself of my past and be happy? And then it struck me. Tattoos! I could get tattoos! Although, it would have to mean something. At this point, I had just turned eighteen and I could do what I wanted with my body. I sat there for the next half-hour before a phrase crept into my head. "Beauty is not without its price." This was perfect!
The phrase had got me wondering, what if we were all beautiful? What if we all had a price to pay? I decided, if this was true, I was fed up of paying for something I couldn't even see! That's your price! I almost shouted aloud, my price was that I couldn't see it! This realisation sent me into a frenzy; I was smiling like the Cheshire Cat and laughing like the Mad Hatter. Yet, I felt more sane than I had ever felt in my life! I no longer had to pay for something I couldn't appreciate, I was free. That night I slept with ease.
The next day, I rang the tattoo parlour to book an appointment. My luck must've been running well, they had an appointment free that afternoon. Excitement lifted me 10 feet in the air.
I bet this all sounds like a giant happy story to you, doesn't it? Well, allow me to skip to the good bit and show you just how wrong you could be. I crashed on my way to the tattoo parlour. I was fine, except the windscreen shattered and destroyed my eyesight. I was fine except for the cruel irony that I still couldn't see my beauty. I was fine except everyone started to pretend to care about me, when before they couldn't give two shits! Except from all of that, I was fine.
Take some advice from this blind fool, pay up; or else your debts will follow you. And remember, beauty is not without its price.
