The Girl With Tattoos • Original Version

The Girl With Tattoos (13)

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I arrived home that morning around 5.

I needed all the time I could get to try and cover up the bruise Claudie so happily pointed out. It's still weird having someone in my life who may actually care about my overall well being. I haven't had anyone for almost two years even give me one glance unless it was to check me out.

Sighing, I walked into the bathroom and showered, making sure my hair didn't get wet. No one likes wet hair at school; well, at least I didn't. Wrapping a towel around my body and looking in the mirror, I instantly cringed at the monstrosity growing on my face.

Holy shit, that looks like the spawn of Satan. The thing was growing dark and spreading along my jawline and cheek. Specks of purple accompanied the black, making the bruise look even more disgusting. I applaud you Shredder. This little fucker is one of the worst bruises I've had to try and disguise.

I pulled out my makeup bag filled with stuff I rarely ever used. Grabbing a sponge thingy I believed was called a beauty blender and foundation, I dabbed it around the skin, making sure to blend around it to avoid unnecessary harsh lines. I added concealer to places the other shit didn't cover and blended that as good as I could make it seem. Adding powder to try and make it last longer than an hour or so, I glanced in the mirror and sighed hopelessly, praying it wasn't too noticeable.

Claudie, you better not have told anyone about this.

I headed out the bathroom door and stepped inside the closet, grabbing the first shirt I saw and stepped right back out. Doing the same with pants, I slapped them on along with some random combat boots. Looking in the mirror, I made sure the white high waisted jeans covered anything the maroon crop top didn't. To finish this off, I put on a thin flannel cover and stuffed my phone in the back pocket. Sighing, I grabbed my backpack and jogged down the stairs.

Halfway through locking my garage door, my phone went off.

Who the fuck is texting me?

I pulled it out, checking it as I sat on the motorcycle.

Claude Master - So your coming to school today right??

Grace - Yea.

I don't know how to text cool. I also need to change that stupid contact name.

Claudie - Good cuz I was gonna raid every house in the area until I found yours if you didnt come today

Grace - Not needed. Sorry.

Claudie - Mhm whatever stick to your word miss marollo

Claudie - Also keep me as claude master I love to text ppl and see my contact as that lol

Grace - Sure I guess

Claude Master - Good girl miss marollo

Claude Master - Dont take that sexually pls and thanks

Okay, this guy is crazy, I swear to it. He needs help and hanging out with me is probably not helping.

Putting my phone in my backpack and my helmet on my poofy hair, the garage opened up and I zoomed out, the breeze tickling my exposed jaw. The trees in the forest I lived near blurred by until I made it onto the main road, cars rushing past me as if they were late to their morning meeting. I smiled at everything, the peace of the world to the naked eye. I "accidentally" went over the speed limit to feel the breeze a little more. But, apparently going faster than usual gets you to school quicker. What a discovery.