-- Two Years Later --
Letter Rule #5: Finally, remember that beauty is more than skin-deep. As much as I love decorating the outside, it's the inside that matters most. Your truth radiates from within.
"Breathe. It's a bitch the first time that needle hits your skin. After that
it's a fucking adrenaline rush. You've got this."
Hurting like a bitch was the understatement of the year. I looked at Joe
sitting so calmly in the chair beside me. He looked like he was getting a deep
tissue massage. His annoying goatee bounced as he gave me his little pep talk.
"Maybe a dot is good enough," I gasped as I felt the second razor sharp sting.
"No way. Your tat is going to be DOPE."
I couldn't even argue with that. I kept thinking about the design and the days
of back and forth with the guy that was currently plotting out the labor of love
on my right upper arm.
Surprisingly, Joe was right. After a few minutes I became accustomed to the
pain. I smiled as I saw Joe's newest tat taking shape. He was finally legal
now. No more fights with dad over ink.
I couldn't wait for dad to see mine.
Even though Joe's only took an hour, he waited with me for the entire four and a
half process for my masterpiece. I studied the black raven on Joe's bare
shoulder, the entire thing hued in raw pink from the sheer newness of it, and
smiled.
"It's more than dope, Al. I can't wait for you to see it."
I closed my eyes. The humming of the machine created a weird echo feel and I
itched to take my devices out to just meld into myself. The absolute silence
didn't scare me anymore.
Especially if it could block out Joe rambling a mile a minute.
"That is badass," he said for about the millionth time. I opened my eyes
and gave him a look. He just shook his head.
"If you would have asked me two years ago if I thought we'd ever be hanging out
in a tattoo parlor, both getting tats and that you'd be going off to the fuckin'
Peace Corps...I would have laughed until I pissed myself. And yet..."
"Here we are," I finished. "If you would have asked me two years ago if I
thought you'd be the one going to college first..."
"Don't underestimate my brillance."
I snorted. The needle buzzed on. "You just want to get laid."
Joe smirked. "You know me too well, twin."
"You know me too well."
"What do you think?"
Mom smiled. "Your dad's gonna love it."
I turned and caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled. I had never thought
I'd get a tattoo.
Now I couldn't imagine myself without it.
An intricate barb wound around a black rose, the very tips of the two most
prominent petals exploding into ravens, one boasting a streak of fiery orange,
the other an emeral green.
A midnight sun framed in a decorative skull framed out the rest of the scene. Around the sun, in small, but perfectly legible lettering, was a simple phrase.
Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point...
The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know..
It all fit so well. My two ravens, my mom Rochelle, the eternal fire, and the
dark haired, emerald eyed Cole.
I would never understand why two amazing people left the Earth so early. The
reasoning, the logic wasn't there, but my heart knew it could still love that
which I couldn't see.
My reflection smiled back at me. I was Alexis McLean. Teen Crisis Center
Counselor. Deaf Awareness Leader. Voted Most Likely to Succeed.
All the little broken pieces of my sixteen-year-old life had finally shifted. I saw the whole puzzle.
I loved what I saw, but I loved what I felt more. I loved what I had to offer. I gently touched the the fiery orange raven. Mom was right. My truth did radiate from within.
But my tattoo was a reminder of what I had to offer.
"What are we all looking at?"
I turned from my reflection. Dad glanced at mom and then back at me. His eyes drifted to my arm.
"What the--"
He walked towards me, his eyes not leaving the ink. I held out my arm and he took it in a very Gomez-like fashion. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Beautiful," he whispered.
"It's me, right?" I said proudly. He looked at me and a large tear fell down his cheek.
"She's always been you," he said. "And even though it was a horrible way to do so, he brought it out."
I didn't need to ask who she and he were. Dad knew just by looking. I brushed his tear away and tapped the skull.
"Don't forget my beacon of wisdom," I chided.
He laughed. "I hate that I'm losing another daughter."
"You're not losing me. You didn't lose Shelby."
He smiled sadly. "You're both leaving me. Why do my girls leave but I can't get rid of the boys?"
It was my turn to laugh. "Your girls want to make their mark."
Dad pulled me in for a hug. He felt so warm. So dad.
"I have a feeling you're going to do amazing things. Things that I can't even imagine right now."
I thought about the adventure I'd be embarking on. Botswana, Africa. With Mason's glowing recommendation, I would be placed in the global health division. I knew the work would be hard. I knew that we wouldn't always succeed.
But I also knew that helping people was in my blood.
So often, the disabled feel like victims. I had felt like that for a big part of my life. Now it was my turn to show the world was I was made of.
The person that my dad already knew I was.
The person I knew I was.
