The Tattoo

Prologue

Tessa

I sit in my room -- which is still in progress of being packed up after my dad made his big announcement that we were moving from Harbor Bay to Adena Point. I get it though, its to move closer to his new job location. And his new wife. I stare at my laptop and wonder why I'm even on this website. All my friends talked me into getting an Instagram. Part of me wonders if it's because they want to stay connected since we all just graduated, but i'm not entirely sure.

I look at my friends' posts from school. Most of my friends took pictures with me today, so I got tagged in what feels like hundreds of pictures. All I see as I'm scrolling is "We'll miss you Tessa!", "Hope to meet you down at the beach this summer!" and sometimes even the dreaded "I've loved you since (enter grade here), and maybe we can hang out sometime soon?".

I roll my eyes and sigh. Come on people.

I'm moving, and it's not even that far of a move either. They should be happy Dad decided to wait until I finished school before uprooting our lives to a new city full of obnoxious self righteous people. Besides, it's not like I'm going to go jump off a bridge to my death or anything... though, that would be interesting. Too bad I can't die until my Tattoo fades.

Yes.

I said Tattoo.

Everyone is born with half a Tattoo on their left arm. This was something we all learned in our junior year history class. WW3 was what unfortunately undid our planet. Almost all of the human race was wiped out, and Earth was basically destroyed. With the different gasses in the air from all the explosives, the humans who did survive developed these strange unexplainable images on their arms. These images are what are now known as The Tattoos.

Now when a girl turns eighteen, her left tattoo will start to glow when she comes within close proximity to her Other Half. The Tattoo on the Other Half glows just the same, and the glow becomes stronger the closer you get to each other, thus making it nearly impossible to end up with the wrong person.

Now, the Tattoo on the right arm is smaller, and it will eventually disappear. This Tattoo is different for everyone in your family -- nobody in the same family has the same job, aside from the Royals. People with green thumbs usually find flowers or plants weaved into their Tattoo, letting them know they would be great agriculturalists. Likewise, people who are good with animals end up with some sort of paw print weaved into the Tattoo, indicating they should go on to study zoology to develop the Tattoo more and find out their full potential.

This Tattoo develops at different rates for everyone, too. No matter how old you are. I've heard of some kids fully developing theirs as early as 17, before they even finish Primary School or find their Other Half. I've also heard one person didn't fully develop their Tattoo till they were forty, and then just twenty years later it started to disappear.

Oh, and as soon as the Tattoo on your right arm starts to disappear, you slowly start to die. As soon as the Tattoo disappears, you're hospitalized until you die, and then you're transported to your family so they can handle your body however they see fit.

I guess it makes sense that we learn about the Tattoos when we are juniors, since most of us turn eighteen over our last year of school. Not me of course, I had to land with the small percentage of people born in the second half of the year. Most people are born in the beginning of the year on purpose, it makes it easier to group everyone. I've always been the youngest in my grade, which I don't mind too much. At least I know nobody has the same birthday as me.

I feel drowsy, and my head starts to throb. I grab the bottle of headache pills on my desk and pop two into my mouth. The air-conditioning also came on at some point while I was going between Instagram, and this internet game I'm addicted to. Most people my age are addicted to online gaming, but hey, it's a better alternative to drugs or alcohol right?

I get up and walk over to my bed. I'm pretty sure I picked up a book that I've read only about a billion times, but I don't remember because everything goes black as soon as I plop down on my bed.

I blink and look up from the book, which is still in my lap. What just happened? I don't think I can even comprehend what is going on. I vaguely remember hearing someone come in while I walked to my bed and... kidnap me?

I don't remember.

I'm pretty sure I was drugged. I mean, it makes sense. I guess that's the beauty of drugs right? If you take the right ones they knock you out for hours with no reconciliation of anything. I don't get a good look at anything to help me recognize or remember where I am before it goes black again.