Stars collided in my vision as my natural instinct to breathe screeched to a halt from the extreme pain in my side. A hot sautering iron split the skin over my ribs and precious air hissed out of my deflating lungs. Sweat ran down the small of my back as tiny muscles all over my body twitched in reaction to the agony that was ripping my skin. Paralyzed, I struggled to fill my lungs as the pain eased for a moment-
“I feel like I should be giving you dollar bills, you’re dancing all over my table so much!” Paul laughed, taking a break to refill the ink in his tattoo gun. I weakly laughed along, light-headed from lack of oxygen to my brain. Rolling off the table, I floated to the full-length mirror across from where I was getting my first tattoo. The rose inked into my right side stretched from mid-ribs to hipbone with one solitary petal blowing away, “SDH” etched in its delicate surface. It was bleeding black and deep red now, but once it healed, the memorial piece Paul had drawn would be a beautiful commemoration to Shawn David Huq, my brother in all but the blood seeping from its edges.
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