A story about the lives of four young people who live in London. Their lives come with many ups and downs but they still push through and keep it moving. What's life like being a broken teen in London?
#3 IN NORTH LONDON
Today I was in a good mood for some odd reason. The sun was shining and the weather was nice. Everyone around me looked shocked at the fact that I had a smile on my face, since I usually walk around the place with a massive screw on my face.
"Why are you so happy?" My friend, Ruth, asked.
"I don't even know." I slightly laughed
Ruth was a friend that I had made after I got kicked out of school in year 9. We met at the pupil referral unit that I went to and ever since then we've been the best of friends. Amour was exactly like me so I think that's why we got along so well. Our personalities were very alike.
"As long as you're happy then I'm happy." She smiled
Me and Ruth were on our way to get matching tattoos. Ruth' sister was a dope tattoo artist who worked in a shop based in Bromley. Ruth already had 2 small tattoos, one behind her ear and the other one was on her wrist. I was scared but excited at the same time.
Ruth was a pretty Congolese girl with stunning brown skin. She always wore her jet black hair in a slick back ponytail and made sure that it was laid to the Gods. Ruth had slanted dark brown eyes and long thick lashes. Her plump lips were forever coated in a thick layer of lipgloss and her nails were always freshly done. She stood at the height of 5 foot and 6 feet. Ruth's body was amazing. From her curvaceous hips, to her thick thighs and her toned stomach. Gosh I wanted it all.
We walked into the tattoo parlour and waited for Ruths sister. Once she had finished with her previous client, she greeted us and guided us through the process of getting a tattoo and told us what we should and shouldn't do after getting the tattoo. Ruth's sister, Sephora, sanitised her equipment and told me to lay down. I followed her instructions and took off my shirt so that she get to work.
I was getting Juniors birthday and the date of his death tatted on my rib cage, along with two butterflies and on my wrist is was getting a snake.
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I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed at the feeling of the needle gliding across my arm. I heard Ruth laugh from behind me so I flashed my middle finger at her. I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling to try and stop me thinking about the pain from the needle.
