I wanted tattops for my 18th
birthday. Kitty didn't. Kitty refused. I told her i did not know what i
would do if she kept saying no."Tattoos are so like dirty!" Kitty said.
Kitty
was 1 year 3 months and 20 days younger. She was 2 and a half inches
smaller. She was smarter. She was prettier. We were best friends but
Kitty was always better. She was the better friend. She had the better
name, and i was desperate to hold onto her. Horrifying girls like Lisa
Markman were offering her cigarettes and beer and birth control.
The
past 2 years had passed in a golden bubble of happiness. I adored Kitty
and Kitty adored me. We didn't need the professer or my brother Kurt or
other friends or parties or boys or seperate bedrooms. Kitty and Rogue.
For 2 perfect years, Kitty and i shared the same air. We breathed each
other. We shared the same bathroom, the same shampoo and soap.
We needed tattoos.
"I won't," Kitty said. "You can't make me. No girl in bayville has tattoos"
She
was right. No one did. We were from the suburbs. I hated every singel
person in this damned instatue. They were all morons, out to steal my
best mate. Kitty was much too good. She was too eager to please.
I
sat on my bed stairing at Kitty, waiting for her too crack. Kitty
wanted her own room, but there were no extra rooms. It was a stupid
idea. We were ment to share a room. We were best friends. We had no
secrets. Kitty picked up her hairbrush and started brushing her hair.
She was obsessed with being clean. Kitty was always taking showers,
smoothing her hair, washing her face, washing her hands, looking in the
mirror.
"You want to be like everyone else," I said. "But they're all boring"
"Who is boring"
"Everyone"
"Everyone"
I reached for her hand with my gloved one. Kitty laid down her hairbrush on the bed and squeezed my fingers.
"There is no one like us." I told her.
"Everyone is boring?" Kitty repeated.
I picked up Kittys brush against the wall.
Kitty bit her lip and looked at her hands.
"Our tattoos won't be dirty," I said.
I'd
explained it to her. I had found someone who didn't care that she was
underage. I had paid in advance. Everything was planned. Our tattoos
would be simple. Kitty would get a ROUGE tattoo. Mine would say KITTY.
If Kitty ever got lost or made friends with someone else or had sex
with some strange awful man she could never forget who we were. Who we
belonged with. Each other. It wasn't enough that we were best friends.
Kitty could talk to Jean and then we could be best friends no more and
she would be upset with me if i tried to join in.
Kitty looked at her pink hairbrush. It had left a dark mark in the sugar pink wall.
"I can't get a tattoo," She said.
"You have to," I said.
Kitty shook her head.
"We could get our ears double-pierced," She whispered.
"No." I said."Tattoos. It's all planned. It's already paid for"
Kitty
crossed the room, picked up her brush, and started brushing her hair
again. She was so beautiful. Wherever we went people staired at Kitty,
they staired at us. I knew that i was prettish. Kitty would never tell
me otherwise. She would never lie to me so i knew it was true. But
whenever i was on my own, when i wasn't next to Kitty, i didn't feel
right. I tripped over my shoelaces. My hair tangled easily.
"5 letters," I said."To make sure we're never apart. No matter where we go. You won't do that for me?"
"It's
enough that we're best friends." Kitty said. "It's pratically tattooed
all over us the way we act and how we're always together. Why isn't
that enough?"
We had been having the same conversation for days.
Kitty wanted other friends, boyfriends like that piece of scum Lance.
She wanted to blink her eyes and imagine me gone. I sat on the floor
and cried. I cried untill my cheast hurt and i coughed. I weezed and my
head started to ache but i didn't stop. Kitty sat next to me and put
her head in her hands like it hurt too. For a while she did nothing
just watched me cry. I'd blink back my tears and wipe them away with my
sleeve and watch her, watching me. "Rogue," She
said. "Why do you do this?"
And then she wrapped her
arms around me avoiding skin contact. She rocked me like i was her
baby. I was miserable but it felt wonderful, rocking. We rocked back
and forth. Kitty and i were miserable together. It was the middle of
the night. I could hear my brother humming in his room down the hall.
Kurt was always trying to steal Kitty. He never could. He would never
have what we did.
"I'm like, underage." Kitty whispered her vally
girl talk coming back. I loved the way she talked. She kissed the top
of my head, not touching my skin. Her age didn't matter. The
appointments were made. The tattoo guy had taken my money and told me
how to come threw the back way. I had been slipping 20 dollar bills
from peoples wallets and purses for months.
One day Kitty would be
glad. One day we would be old, we would be thirty, and Kitty would
thank me. Kittys intrest in other girls and in having boyfriends was
temporary. It was her growing up, it was a phase. The tattoos i knew
would keep us safe.
"We could get a new computer," Kitty said. "Or leather boots"
"No," I said.
I
stretched across Kittys lap and reached over to open her school bag. I
took out her pencil case and removed a freshly sharpened pencil. Kitty
like her pencils sharp. She loved multipule-choice tests, filling in
small circles with all the right answers.
"What are you doing?" She said.
I
rolled up my pajama sleeve and stuck the sharp tip of the pencil into
my arm. A bubble of blood spurted from the spot. It was more brown than
red. I touched the blood with my finger, smeering across my skin. "Why
do you have to be like, so dramatic?" Kitty said.
If i was lucky the led from the pencil would make it into my blood stream and i would die and early death.
"Stop crying," Kitty said. "You make my head hurt!"
I
wanted to die. Kitty was the better one and i was not necessery. She
did not need me and soon, any day now, she would pretend to not know me.
"You should clean up your arm." Kitty said. "You're bleeding"
I
shook my head. I hoped the led would spread quickly . I closed my eyes.
If i was dead Kitty would no longer be my best friend. She's cut our
pictures in half and no one would know i had been born. Kitty could
make friends with people like Jean Grey and Lisa Markman.
She got
up. I could hear her walk to our bathroom, hear the water running from
the sink. She was washing her face, scrubbing her hands. That's what
Kitty did. I heard the snap of latex gloves and she came back with
tissues, anticeptic cream and a Band-Aid. She wiped the tears from my
face. She put the cream on my cut. Kitty was a good nurse, but she
wouldn't become one. She'd be a doctor, a neurosurgeon. I prayed she
would not want to be a teacher like Jean and Scott. They were miserable
shits. They were raging bores. They were...teachers.
"Stop crying," Kitty pleaded. "Please! Please stop crying. You know i hate it when you cry! I get a head ache"
I woundn't stop crying.
"Are the safe?" Kitty said. "Tattoos? Are they hygienic"
I nodded, still crying. I was winning. I knew i had won. "Yes," I said."Yes"
Kitty bit her lip.
"Everything is sterilized?" She said. "Clean"
"Of course!" I nodded rapidly. "One hundred percent clean"
I didn't know. I had no idea. For all i knew we could get hepatitis B and die. That would be fine. We would die together.
"I want mine to be pink." Kitty said.
"Fine," I agreed. "Pink"
I
hated the colour pink. Our bedroom was pink. Most of Kittys clothes
were pink. I didn't care. I reached for Kittys hand. I squeezed it
tight.
She looked sad. She shook her hand out my grip, but i couldn't stop grinning.
"You are such a drama queen." Kitty said.
Ok so this is Wayyyyyyy OOC but it will get better i promise though the OOCness might not. Please R&R!