Pieces

S

Today was a Saturday, which meant no school. Although I did go to school yesterday, today will make a big difference.

I was still looking at the words on my arms, "What are you supposed to be? You've ruined my life so far in the period of two days? Just help me?"

"Okay," the door opened, Tia sat down, "you know how I said that it sounded like you were muttering French in your sleep?" I nodded, "Well I took the liberty of going to the Library and getting a book on French. I think you were muttering French because the writing on your arm is also French."

"So, 'the Tattoo says it all'." I sat calmly on my bed. I looked up, "Can you translate it?"

"I don't know, but it's still possible."

I laid my head back on my bed, "Can you try?" I extended my arm.

"Okay so?" she twisted my arm back and forth, "Have you realize that this keeps repeating its self? It only has one phrase."

"What?" I shot back up.

"Yeah all it says is 'Soyez prudent avec votre cœur, car il peut se casser, Donnez-le à la mauvaise personne et ils vont décider de votre sort'. In a French accent of course, which I lack."

"Well translate it!"

"I can't! This book covers the basics, like numbers and easy words, we need to go to someone that can read accurate French. Do you know anybody?"

I jumped up in excitement, "As a matter of fact I do," I grabbed my coat, "It's Strawberry!"

"Strawberry knows French?"

"Duh," I looked at her like she was an idiot, "obviously you haven't been catching up on your intense studying."

"Sorry and shouldn't we write the words down so you aren't just like 'Hey, read my arm and what does it say?'?"

"Yes of course we would write it down," I glanced at her, "and stop acting like you're smarter than me."

"Well who isn't? You fail all of your classes and don't act like you do it to not give your parents satisfaction!"

I snapped my fingers in front of Tia's face, "And there you go again! Just quiet your thoughts, only your mind wants to hear them."

"That's only because they're true," she shut the door behind us.

***

"Hey strawb- Jake!"

He looked up from a book, his dreamy hazel eyes looked puzzled, "Brogan?" Tia popped out from behind me, "And Tia? What is it for me to owe your honor?"

"Well we came across some words that we thought might have been French and we thought maybe you could translate them for us," I fake smiled, "Please?"

"Uh, sure," he agreed.

"Um well," I turned around, "Tia give him the words."

"I don't have them, I thought you did!"

"Well, I thought you were the smart one! Go get it!"

"Well, neither of us wrote it down and we need your arm," she whispered.

"Well, a bit of a mix up here, but we'll be back," I apologized, "Okay, so see you soon." I waved.

***

"Sorry, we're back and this time Tia has the note."

"Okay, let me see it." He extended his tan arm towards Tia. He started writing English words under the, I assumed to be French words. It took him a while to figure them all out, he probably hasn't writen or read French in a long time, "I'm finally done. 'Be careful with your heart because it can break, Give it to the wrong person and they'll decide your fate.'. Wow, that's a beautiful poem. Where did you find it again?"

"Um, well," I looked at Tia, "We found it in a book that we got from the Library. It was a 'Beginner's French'. Yup!" we turned around to walk out the door.

"Well, bye." Jake waved. I turned back around to wave good-bye, he smiled at me, I smiled too.

***

"'Be careful with your heart because it can break, Give it to the wrong person and they'll decide your fate'? What is that supposed to mean?" We were now back in our room.

"Well, French is the language of 'love' and the poem is a about, I guess you can say, love." Tia was right the languages must have something to do with the meaning of the phrase.

"Then what does your's say," She was looking at her arm, "I think it's in Arabic?" she showed me her arm. All it said was ' فهو يوفر لك الحياة والحياة التي تتخذ، النفايات الكثير وسوف يذوى'.

"Okay, let's not try reading that aloud," I admitted.

"What, your's was in French for love, what the fuck is mine for? It's in Arabic! Is it for war and destruction?" Tia started freaking out.

"Hey, that's a stereotype! They are humans just like you and me. Only five people took out the twin towers and we are fighting them in war just like they're fighting us. It's a two way street," I glanced down, "Now let's find out what this means."

"Do we have to write it down? Because I don't even want to try," Tia started to complain.

"No we don't have to write it down," although I don't know how others are going to read, "How about we take a picture of it and say a friend had it tattooed and then forgot what it said, do you think that'll work?"

"Well it was better than all the ideas I had!"

"I don't even want to know," I was searching around for my camera. My criminal therapy is photography. I can 'emotionally' express myself through a lens. It's actually very fun because I can go places to 'emotionally' express myself, "Have you seen my camera?"

"No?" I flipped my bed sheets up and crouched down. I searched around for my camera carrier.

"Ah, found it!" I scooted backwards. I slipped open the lid, "It's empty!" A notecard was laying in the side, "Well, not entirely," I pulled it out.

"How does he know about everything?"

"I don't know," I started to read it, " 'You make things so difficult, You find the longer path, Just get on with your riddles and be finished at last! -S' "