Strike Three, Im Out

This is kind of a set up chapter for the story, so its super short..

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Prologue:

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

Apparently this was a lot bigger of a deal to Jessica than it was to me. Jessica had been my best friend for as long as I can remember, we had been through just about everything together; and most of it was my fault.

“I know it’s going to be so sick!”

We were both getting our first tattoos and Jess couldn’t have been more thrilled about it. Honestly, I just did this sort of stuff to get back at my parents for ‘ruining my life’. I was the typical teenage girl.

After explaining what we wanted to the artist, we had to wait for about an hour for one of the tables to become available. While we were waiting I just couldn’t shake the feeling that today wasn’t right. And I don’t mean because we were getting tattoos behind our parents’ backs, that was the story of our lives.  It was more of a feeling of unease. Like something was lying ahead, something bad. And it was close, I could feel it.

Getting the tattoo wasn’t that bad. It hurt like hell but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. The worst part about the whole experience was helping Jess get through it.  Anyone outside of the little curtain probably thought she was being man slaughtered. Half a head of hair, four severe bit marks, and a broken wrist later; her tattoo was finally done.

We paid for the new additions to our skin and left the ghetto little downtown parlor.

We had to go pretty far out of town to find somebody who could be talked into letting us get one since we’re underage, so we had a pretty long ride home.  Neither of us had a car either which left us with the only other option.

The bus.

Brooklyn New York is not the best place to be riding the bus late at night, but we didn’t really have another option. I always thought of myself as one of those badass girls that could take care of herself in those dark alley horror story scenarios, so I wasn’t too worried. 

I kept getting distracted by the feeling I couldn’t shake about something going wrong. I wasn’t focused…

I walked too far ahead…

It’s all my fault.