Letters to Audrine

7- Only Little Pain

"I always thought my grandpa was invincible," I find myself talking about him more as it seems like we're starting to enter the city, as the buildings are getting closer together and more cars are surrounding us. "I mean, he was old, but he never struggled or looked like he was in pain. He wasn't sick or anything, I just always thought he'd live forever."

"Was his passing sudden?"

"Yeah, I was at a student council meeting when my mom came in and told me that he was in the hospital. I had just had dinner with him a few days before and he seemed totally normal. We didn't get very much time with him to say goodbye, but I'm glad that we got what we had."

"What tattoo are you going to get?" he asks me.

"A wand," I answer him in a soft voice. "It's just something that he said to me once when I was little. He told me to never lose my magic, and we pinky promised."

"What does that mean to you?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I admit to him. "I just think that he meant that I should never forget who I am. Even though my mom has moulded me into this person that she wants me to be, I should always stay true to who I am."

"That's a good message," he says. "I definitely think that it's worth a tattoo."

Even though I know that I don't need Silas's approval, it feels nice knowing that I have it.

It's not much longer until we reach the tattoo shop. The outside is subtle, with brick walls and just the name of the shop on the front. Inside, the walls and floor are dark, but there is a lot of lighting and what look like massage table stations around the room. One of the employees greets us in French and of course, Silas does all of the talking.

He talks so fast that I can barely even catch a few of the words that he's saying. The same thing with the employee, I don't understand anything that he's saying either.

After exchanging a few words, the employee leads us to one of the massage tables and next to the table, there are a few tables and drawers full of supplies. The man grabs a tablet and starts doing some sketching.

"He's going to sketch out a few ideas for you," Silas catches me up. I nod my head. He smiles at me and asks, "Nervous?"

"No," I lie. There's somebody on the other side of the shop getting a tattoo on her leg, and she doesn't seem like she's in any pain at all. She has many tattoos covering her arms though, so I'm sure that she's just used to it.

It takes a while to go through the whole process, but we eventually get through it. He sketches a few simple drawings of wands and I get to tweak a few things with Silas acting as a translator. Once we have the final sketch, the employee prints out the design. He has to print out some documents (luckily, printed in English) that I have to sign, and then it's time to get started. He shaves my arm and then places the stencil on. I confirm that it's a good position, and then it's time to go.

"Lay down here," Silas instructs me, motioning to the bed.

"I lied. I'm nervous," I admit to him as I lie down, facing the ceiling. "I'm really nervous."

When the artist picks up the tattoo gun is when I really feel my stomach plummet to the ground.

"No nervous," the artist tells me, "only little pain."

"You'll be okay," Silas assures me. "Just keep talking to me, it's easier if you just keep your mind off of it. And squeeze my hand if it becomes too much."

After saying that, he takes the hand of the arm that won't be getting tattooed and holds it in his own hand. His hand is so much larger than mine, and so much warmer. I feel very comforted.