27 tattoos {a.i.}

Three.

-

"What do you mean by this one?" He wondered about the word hero with a slash through it on her shoulder.

"Do you have a father?" She countered.

"Yes...." He trailed.

"So do I, but he left us," she continued.

"Mine, mine died...." He replied.

"I'd rather have a father who left by death, not by choice," She sneered.

"Sorry," He mumbled awkwardly shifting around on the park bench they were sitting on.

"I'll tell you this story...." She decided.

-

It was an ordinary winter day, snow covering all the houses and treetops. Her father had a business trip, a very important one. Davie was on the couch eating gingersnap cookies and sipping warm eggnog. Her favorite holiday combination. Her little brother was cuddled up on the floor, in a fuzzy blanket, watching the Saturday cartoons.

A blaring ring interrupted their moment of nirvana. Their mother scuttled to the phone in her fluorescent slippers. As soon as she answered it tears began to stream down her face. Davie's mother threw the phone to the ground, and picked it up just to slam it down again. Davie's little brother looked around confused and terrified. Davie tried to sooth him, by giving him some headphones and and iPod.

Davie ran to her mother in a blur and tried to fix the telephone. "Just breathe," Davie whispered to her mother.

"He's not coming back!" Her mother sobbed.

"What do you mean?" Davie questioned in oblivion, grabbing her mother by the shoulders.

"He c-called, and he w-was with another w-woman and children...." Her mother sniffled, breaking the horrid news to Davie. Davie looked at the phone she was once piecing together, sighed, and hurled it towards the wall. At this point, Davie's little brother was crying, not knowing what was going on.

"I want Daddy!!" He screamed in a fog of tears. This caused Davie's mother to collapse into a puddle of emotion.

"Daddy's on a trip and won't be coming back for a long time," Davie said to the little one, mentally slapping herself for giving hope that would eventually be thrown away.

Later that night, when everyone was sleeping in Davie's household, she left to the one place that would never hurt her, the tattoo parlor. A brute looking man smiled as she walked in, "What happened this time?" The man asked.

"Dad's gone," Davie stated.

"Mine too," he replied, applying the ink for the newest tattoo on Davie's body.