His Name Was Damian

three

Damian

My mom thinks I went to school today, but I wasn't ready for it.

My mom guided me to the guest room all while holding my hand. She clearly didn't want me to go.

"I moved all your things to the guest house, while you were, uh, in the hospital." My mom pushed out.

"Okay." I didn't have the energy to respond.

"Do you think you'll be ready to go to school on Monday?"

I just shrugged, "Yeah, I think I will go to school."

Instead, I just drove around town, not really sure where I was going. I found myself in-front of a tattoo parlor, but it didn't appear that way.

A man sat in a stool behind the counter, doing something on his phone. He didn't pay me any attention, until I walked up to him.

"What can I do for you," His gruff voice surprised me, but I didn't show it.

"Do you do tattoos?" I get straight to the point, just wanting a yes or no answer.

"Not for you; you're too young."

"I'm 17."

The man gives me a look. "I don't give a fuck that you're seventeen. Come back when you're eighteen ."

I don't want to make it eighteen.

"Dude, give me a break. You've done plenty of tattoos on underage kids."

The guy cuts me a look. "Fine, head to the back."

"Thanks so much for your help."

I walk to the back and there I see Xavier, smoking a cigarette. He was tattooing himself and not even going to lie, he did a great job.

"I'll get to you in a second, just give me a second to finish this up."

"Okay."

He must've recognized me from my voice, since he stopped his motions. Xavier looked up and smirked at me.

"Who would've guessed that Damian Parker would be here getting tats; not me for sure."

"Things change."

"I feel you my man, but tell me; what changed?"

I shake my head. "Nothing much, just had a realization."

***

Xavier said that the needle would feel like multiple punches as the same time but to his surprise, I didn't flinch at all. At the end of my session, I had a grand total of two sleeves. It was exactly what I needed to cover up my scars. I know Xavier noticed, but he didn't ask any questions.

I went home after that, knowing that my mom wouldn't be home until late.

"What the hell." My mom stood in-front of me and honestly I didn't know what to do.

"What?" I played dumb trying to play it off.

"What? Are you serious? You're arms Damian, that's what." She takes my arms into her hand. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I didn't want to see them anymore."

My mom squeezed my hands. "Well besides the fact that you got them illegally, they look good."

I smile. "Good thing or they would be getting their asses handed to them."

I know my mom wasn't happy about the fact that I had tattoos, but I know for a fact that she didn't want to see my scars.

And honestly, neither did I.