;dreams made of ink;
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- Votes 3
- Parts 2
Ongoing20m
Last published Wed, Jun 20, 2018
Tattoos are permanent. They are seen as a shame in the society. Dirty ink splattered on your pure body forever, is the way they see it. A sign of indecency, recklessness and shame. That's why it has always been told and told that it's best if you don't get a tattoo at all. But people still do.
It can be because of an experience behind it, they want to add colour on their body, or they just feel like it. In the end, they all have something in common. They want it. It's their dream to have one.
But what if this one dream come true of theirs causes a chain of, magical consequences? Would they see the beauty of it, or would they hide in shame for dismissing what society has been telling them about? Either way, it's just a dream, right?
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#872
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I couldn't stop trembling even more now. I calmed down a little more and checked my arm again. I was correct, I wasn't hallucinating. On my shoulder was a tattoo. It was a character of some sort-- in a different language. It looked like it was Chinese mixed with Islamic calligraphy. The skin around my arm was red and irritated. The symbol stuck out like a vein. I hyperventilated. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I had to sit there, on my bed, and command myself to calm down. "I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. This isn't real," I whispered. I checked the mirror again and searched all over my body to see if I had any other markings, but so far this was the only one. I shut my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up, but this was real. And for the first time, out of all the panicking, my vision went black.Complete
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I couldn't stop trembling even more now. I calmed down a little more and checked my arm again. I was correct, I wasn't hallucinating. On my shoulder was a tattoo. It was a character of some sort-- in a different language. It looked like it was Chinese mixed with Islamic calligraphy. The skin around my arm was red and irritated. The symbol stuck out like a vein. I hyperventilated. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I had to sit there, on my bed, and command myself to calm down. "I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. This isn't real," I whispered. I checked the mirror again and searched all over my body to see if I had any other markings, but so far this was the only one. I shut my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up, but this was real. And for the first time, out of all the panicking, my vision went black.
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