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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1852006
Boy wakes up on 17th birthday to find his body has gone through a transformation
Chapter 1
The needle didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. But that could’ve been because of all the shots of tequila his friends had encouraged him to slam down. One of them was standing there with him, watching the black ink get etched into his bicep. The other two were passed out in the car. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing it, Sky,” his buddy, Aaron said.
“You’re getting one, too.”
He laughed. “Bullshit. You think I’m that stupid?”
He smirked. “Yeah. Come on, a deal’s a deal.”
In their drunken state, they agreed to get tattoos. It started off as a dare, and now that Skylar had done his part, he expected Aaron to do his. He looked down at his bicep, watched the needle do its work. How odd that he could hardly feel it. It was almost done, the Chinese character missing only one more line. It was quite simply going to say ‘destiny.’ He thought it sounded cool.
“That was before I found out about your other tattoo,” Aaron said.
When he took his shirt off so the guy could tattoo his arm, Aaron saw his father’s name inked across one shoulder blade. The word was written in cursive, in thin lines spelling out ‘Michael.’ He’d gotten it when he was fifteen, without telling a soul. It meant a lot more to him than the stupid character he was getting now. “What difference does that make?” He asked his friend.
“I never thought you’d get this because you’d be too chicken shit. If I’d known you already had one”-
“You trying to tell me you’re too chicken shit to get one?”
The needle shut off and the burly man said, “Done.”
After wiping away the blood and excess ink, Skylar got to look at it in its entirety for the first time. Nothing special, but at least the guy did a good job. “Thanks. Your turn, Aaron.”
He could see that his friend was about to wet his pants, but Aaron still took off his shirt and sat down. “Same as him,” he told the guy.
After getting a new needle, the guy sat down and went to work. Aaron kept his eyes closed and his fists clenched. “I gotta piss,” Skylar said, and went to the back of the parlor to the bathroom.
He just wanted to be out of the room. His arm was starting to hurt more than he thought it would, and his head was starting to spin a little. The grime of the bathroom didn’t faze him. In a cheap tattoo parlor, what else would you expect but a dirty sink and a grime filled mirror? He turned on the faucet and splashed some rusty water on his face. He used his shirt to wipe his eyes and mouth, tasting the rust a little on his lips, and looked at himself in the cracked mirror.
In two days he would be seventeen. His birthday fell on a Monday, so his friends took him out tonight to celebrate, and he’d spent a great Saturday night with them. But now, seeing his reflection, he thought about what they’d really done. It was nothing special, just drinking and flirting at a club with their fake ID’s. He almost hooked up with a girl, until her boyfriend interrupted them in the back hallway. He ran out, pulling his pants up as he stumbled along.
He tended to get in a lot of trouble lately, especially with girls. Despite his mother’s warnings, he wasn’t afraid of hooking up with girls he just met. It was almost too easy to find hookups. With his sandy colored hair, chiseled face, and bright blue eyes, girls pursued him more often than he had to pursue them. He was living a fun, carefree life, and he loved every minute of it. Except times like then, when his head cleared a little from the fog of tequila or his friend’s influences. It was times like that when he wished his life had a little something more. He felt like there was something big out there, like one day he was going to do something important, and the way he was going right now was not going to get him there.
But then he blinked a few times and remembered where he was, what he was doing, and chided himself for attempting to think about something serious when he was supposed to be having fun. He went back out to the parlor and sat down to watch Aaron fight through the pain of getting his first tattoo. Skylar tried not to laugh at his friend’s misery. He thought it was funny how tough Aaron acted, and how small and scared he seemed just getting some ink.
“It’s almost done, man,” Skylar said.
Skylar knew that he was starting to sober up, because the buzz of the needle was killing his head. He needed some aspirin, but he didn’t trust any pills that would be in there, and there weren’t any in the car. He wanted to tell the guy to hurry up so he could get home to take some aspirin and go to sleep.
When the tattoos were done and bandaged up, they put their shirts on, paid the guy, and went outside. Aaron suddenly grabbed him by the shirt collar. “You tell anyone about that and I’ll kick your ass.”
Skylar grinned and pushed him back. He wasn’t intimidated by his friend in the slightest. Not only had Aaron never carried out his threats on Skylar, but his black haired head only reached Skylar’s chin. It was hard to be intimidated by someone who was shorter than you. “About what? You being a little bitch in there?”
Aaron smirked. “Smart ass.”
They were best friends, even if their relationship got a little hostile. Aaron was used to everyone thinking of him as a bad ass, and no one, including his best friend, was going to say anything different about him. Skylar was considered a ‘bad-boy’ too, but it was mostly guilt by association. He’d gotten into a lot of trouble, but nothing illegal like Aaron sometimes did.
Before Skylar opened the car door, the backdoor opened and one of their friends fell out, starting to puke all over the sidewalk. “Damn, man, you almost got my fucking shoes!” Skylar said, jumping back.
“If I find any puke in my car, you’re both dead,” Aaron said as he slipped into the driver’s seat.
Skylar got in the passenger seat, and Aaron waited for Dan to get done puking before they drove off. They drove around town, dropping Dan and their other friend, Chase, off at their houses and peeling off before their parents came out to yell at them. Aaron drove Skylar home last. “They’re going to look sweet,” Aaron said when he caught Skylar looking down at his bicep.
“I’m finally starting to feel the pain of it a little,” Skylar said, sort of in wonderment.
“Lucky son of a bitch. I felt it the whole time.”
“I’m almost starting to regret it. ‘Destiny?’ That was stupid.”
“It was your idea, genius.”
“It was just the only thing that popped into my head.”
“Then maybe it is destiny,” Aaron laughed.
Skylar rolled his eyes. “There’s no such thing as destiny. We make our own futures.”
“I don’t know man, there’s gotta be something. If we make our own futures, I’m pretty screwed right now.”
They stopped in front of his house, taking their time. Skylar’s mom wouldn’t be mad at them. She never got mad about the things he did. In fact, Skylar thought she got a secret thrill out of hearing all the things he got into. It made him wonder if she was a wild teenager once too. “See you tomorrow,” Aaron said.
“Not too early. I gotta sleep this off.”
“Duh, same here.”
He got out and went upstairs to his apartment and the first thing he did was head to the bathroom for the bottle of aspirin. After taking three pills, he went to his bed to fall asleep. He groaned when he accidentally fell on his tattooed arm. It hurt a hell of a lot more now. He rolled on his other side and practically jumped off the bed when he saw his mom sitting there at the edge of the bed. “Jesus, Mom. You scared the shit out of me.”
“You’re home late. I just wanted to know how your night went.”
He lay down, resting his throbbing head on the pillow. “Typical night. Went to a club, got drunk.”
“And I see another tattoo.” She nodded to his arm, recognizing the gauze.
“Yeah, it’s stupid. Aaron dared me, so we got matching ones.”
“What is it?”
He thought about his mom being the wild teenager he something thought she could’ve been. She was such a tiny person, barely over five feet tall, long blonde hair, and a small, delicately featured face. She looked more like a little sprite than a former teenage rebel. She couldn’t have been like that. She had to just be living through him. “Just a Chinese character.”
“Did you at least go to a good parlor? Not some place that looks like it should be condemned?”
“It was decent enough. We were still pretty blitzed when we stopped there.”
“How much did it cost?”
“One fifty. I think the guy did a good job.”
“Well, as long as you had fun. Too bad you’ll be in school on your birthday.”
He nodded, and it hurt like hell. “I’ve got a pretty bad headache, Mom. Can we talk in the morning?”
“Sure. Sorry, you should get some sleep. Good night, Sky.”
“Good night, Mom.”
As soon as she shut the door he closed his eyes and snuggled into the pillow more. It was all too easy to fall asleep.

***

The alley was dark, and not just because it was night. The brick buildings were black, the pavement the same solid ink color, and the sky had no stars or moon. He looked up at the sky, wondering why there were no city lights to be seen. He might’ve stared longer, but a blood curdling scream caught his attention instead.
At the end of the alley, in front of a brick wall, something white was shining on the ground. He ran towards it, feeling the urgency pound with each footstep.
When he reached the light, he saw that it wasn’t a light at all. It was the white of a dress that he saw, which glowed radiantly in the darkness around it. A girl was wearing it. A beautiful girl with dark hair and a broken body. She was perfect, except for the blood smeared on her face and gushing out from her stomach. There was something black mixed in with the red, and it was also stained into the white dress she wore. Her chest barely moved, her breath so shallow and far between.
Skylar knelt beside her and set her head in his lap, not knowing what to do. He was too late, he knew. She was going to die, and all he could do was watch as she drew her last breath. He didn’t know this girl, but he felt a part of himself dying with her. Her eyes fell open and he looked into them as her lips let out the last breath of life. Everything dulled around them slowly, leaving them in the darkness again. He put his head down and just hugged her to him, his tears falling into her hair.


***

He woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. It was still dark outside, so he knew he’d only managed to sleep an hour or two. That same dream had plagued his sleep almost every night for over a month. He had no idea who the girl was, but it was always her face he saw, her blood spilling all over.
He got up and went to the bathroom to wash the sweat off his face. What was going on with him? Why did he continue to have this messed up dream? Dreaming about a girl wouldn’t have been so bad, but why the hell was she dead? He splashed water on his face and looked at himself. In the mirror was not his reflection, but a black creature grinning at him, with his blue eyes.
Skylar jumped back and tripped on the rug, causing him to fall back into the bathtub and hit his head against the wall. “Fuck!”
He rubbed his head and looked at his hand. No blood, but it hurt like hell. But after a moment, he forgot all about it. Instead, his mind focused on what he saw in the mirror. He was almost afraid to get up and check again, but he pushed himself up out of the tub and faced the mirror again. Nothing but his reflection this time. What was going on?
© Copyright 2012 CharlieB (khohensee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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