The Moments When We Didn't Get Along

Chapter 1 Tattooed

Chapter 1 Tattooed.

“Fuck” I hissed between my teeth as the needle continued to inject ink in my skin. The feeling was almost unbearable. It hurt so much but at the same time, I knew the pain was worth it.

I opened my eyes and looked up into the ceiling, focusing on the bright lamp that was hanging down. An Iron Maiden song streamed through the radio och the fan's whirring sound grew higher and higher for every second that went by.

The needle's buzzing sound suddenly stopped and I looked down from the ceiling.

“It's all done kid” the tattoo artist said and turned around and started to clean his equipment.

I stood up and walked to the whole-figure mirror and looked at my back. The huge dragon tattoo started at the bottom of my spine and traveled all the way up to my shoulders, with its claws appearing to caress both of my shoulders. I have to admit that the work was pretty good.

“I'm impressed” I murmured and reached for my gray shirt and black leather jacket. I fixed the bandana around my forehead and flexed my muscles. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothing. Just doing an old friend a favor” the artist said and nodded.

I smiled. “Really? Okay, if you are sure.” I turned around and walked out of the tattoo salon and immediately lit a cigarette. I relaxed as the smoke filled my lungs, giving me a satisfied feeling. I breathed out and watched the smoke disappearing upwards the black and dark night sky. I had no idea how late it was but I probably should get my ass moving before Thomas noticed I had been absent way too long.

I tossed the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it before I started to walk.

The cold midnight air caressed me and seemed to be my only friend, my only friend that liked me at the moment. The gang I was a part of, the so called “gang”, was fucked up. The mafia would be ashamed if they could see us. But who the hell cared? We had a great time. I didn't have to care about my parents, long gone, just myself and I could enjoy the fun in live instead of sitting back in school, starring at a blackboard while the teacher never shut up.

I turned left and continued to walk for another five minutes before I reached my destination. The old, rusty iron door had seen its better days. I ignored the aching pain in my newly tattooed back as I knocked three times on the door. It suddenly opened and I walked in.

The music was blasting: high and almost hypnotizing at the same time.

I sensed the smell of smoke and alcohol in the air and my veins screamed after it.

“Yo, Luka!” Thomas called and swallowed the rest of his Jack Daniels bottle. “Where the...FUCK have you been?”

I lit another cigarette and grabbed a vodka bottle nearby me. “I got a new tattoo.”

Thomas nodded. “It better be worth it 'cause man, I've been taking so much shit from-”

“Well, look here who honored us with his presence.”

I turned around and saw Daniel, our so called leader, smiling devilishly at me. “I love you too.” Even though my height was about 190 centimeters, Daniel always seemed to hoover above me.

He breathed out and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “It's your turn to buy the stuffs next time.” Daniel nodded towards the bench which was filled of half empty and half empty bottles of Jack Daniels, Vodka and everything else you could imagine.

I lifted the vodka bottle I was holding and swept its contents. The strong and warm liquid made my throat and blood hungry for more and I could feel how it began to spread itself in my body, making me warm. “Sure, whatever you say big guy.”

Daniel smiled again, in a wicked way before smashing the Jack Daniels at the floor. “Now let get this fucking thing started!”

The music changed into something more techno.

I looked at Thomas, one of the others I mostly talked to. “Fancy a dance?” I asked him and laughed at his reaction.

“Fuck no!” he said. “I rather go dump diving.”

I shook my head and sat down on one of the couches and drank some more vodka.

It's now, when I think back to those day, that I realize I was a total wrecking ball. I was barely doing anything else than smoking, drinking, doing criminal stuffs. I think it was a drug and I was the drug addict...a drug addict addicted to repeating the same processes over and over again. But the thing was that I already thought it was going downhill and that it possibly couldn't get any worse. How wrong was I?