Chapter One

. . .

Mindy Marx; age sixteen; born and raised in New York City, New York. Currently, I am enrolled in home school due to the several times I was kicked out of public school because I've never been able to get along with my age group. According to society, I am a misfit as well as a nerd. Most of my middle school years were spent obsessing over Anime and that deemed me as a geek for eternity. Most of my free time is spent web designing and graphic designing, occasionally I pick up a pencil and doodle but that's the extent of my artistic ability.

I'm in a relationship, though the passion is slowly dying. His name is Dale Cox and he's two years older than I am. We've been on and off for the past two years and I'm beginning to realize that there's hardly any compatibility. Dale is a good person, truthfully—though he's young and his priorities are screwed up. The only reason Dale has stayed with me this long, is because I'm his "trophy". All his friends and family are impressed that he ended up with such a "good-looking" girl. Dale is more committed to his gaming console than he is with me, to put it in short terms.

And most the time, Dale is dragging me around town with his sister Jenna who has a two-year old son named Carter. While Jenna and Dale smoke weed and hang out, I'm usually stuck babysitting Carter. The kid is very unmannered, Jenna doesn't discipline him in any way. Carter is allowed to do whatever he wants and if he doesn't get his way—you guessed it; he throws a tantrum. Carter has kicked me several times and whenever Jenna actually notices, she laughs.

So does Dale.

I'm starting to get really frustrated with the two of them and I've been contemplating for days as to how I'm going to end this nonsense with Dale.

"Morning, bitch." Cris called out as I walked out of our room.

Cris Marx; age nineteen. Cris is my sister, she's lesbian and just as out of place as I am in the world. The two of us have been close since the day I was born—Cris is my best friend, she knows everything and anything about me and the same goes for me.

"Morning, carpetmuncher." I grinned teasingly.

"How did you sleep?" she asked as I took a seat beside her.

"Eh, not too bad. Yourself?"

"Could have been better. Jonah started some shit with mom last night." Cris explained, taking a sip from her soda.

"Seriously? Again?" I rolled my eyes.

Jonah—he's my mom's boyfriend. The two of them have been together for two years and Cris and I hate Jonah with a burning passion. Words cannot express how badly we hate this guy, but because our mom loves him, we put up with him. To give an example as to why Jonah is hated by us, it's because he disrespects our mom, he will constantly talk shit on our dad, he gets jealous if Cris or I try to spend time with our mom, and he has told my mom that he believes I was summoned from Hell.

"Yep, once again he starts shit. He started a fight last night because mom was talking to dad on the phone. Jonah thinks that mom is cheating on him with dad."

"How could mom even find the time to cheat? Jonah is always up her ass, if she's out of his sight for more than five seconds he's hunting her down."

"That's what I said; mom doesn't even have time to meet any other guy, like hell she has the time to be cheating. I really wish she would get rid of him, he's no good."

"They met online, what else could you expect? I wish she would just dump Jonah and take some time for herself, and then when she's got it all figured out again—she can actually go out to a bar and meet someone face to face."

"It's such an easy solution, really. But, it's our mom. You know just as well as I do that mom can't take the easy solution, she has to make it complicated."

Our conversation came to a halt as the ringtone on my phone went off. I glanced down at the caller I.D. to see it was Dale calling. I chewed on the inside of my cheek in annoyance before reluctantly picking up the object. Swiping left to answer the call, I held it up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby." Dale spoke. "What are you doing?"

"Just chatting with Cris. Why? What's up?"

"Jenna and I are leaving the house now, we were wondering if you wanted to join us."

"Where are you guys headed?"

"Jenna is getting a new tattoo tonight, and we were going to run some other errands."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and sighed heavily. Putting the phone back to my ear, I forced myself to speak excitedly—even though I wasn't.

"Sure, why not." I said.

"Sweet, we are on the road now we'll be there in ten minutes." And with that, Dale hung up the phone.

I locked the screen and turned towards Cris.

"Dale?" She guessed.

I nodded with a small pout forming upon my face. "Jenna is getting a tattoo—I'm sure they just want me there to watch over that spoiled little brat."

"You really don't like Dale that much anymore, do you?"

"No, I really don't. He's only using me and he thinks he's being sneaky about it. The only thing Dale wants is pussy."

"Why don't you just end it?"

"It's not that simple. I have been thinking of ways to break it off but… I don't know. I haven't gotten that far yet."

"Well, maybe it's all for a good reason." Cris shrugged.

"One can only hope."

There was a knock at the door, I turned to see the silhouette of Dale through the stained glass on our front door. Standing up, I grabbed my purse and tossed my phone and cigarettes inside. I walked back to my sister and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be back later."

"Try not to have too much fun!" Cris shouted sarcastically.

Before opening the door, I flipped her off jokingly and turned the knob. Facing Dale, I smiled and closed the door behind me.

"Sexy as usual." Dale commented, eying me up and down.

"Thanks."

In the background, I could hear the screams and cries of Carter from inside Jenna's car. I whined in agony under my breath as I followed behind Dale. He hopped in the passenger's seat and I climbed in the backseat. Dreading the day ahead, my head fell back against the seat and all I can remember thinking at that moment was: fuck my life.

. . .

"Mommy! I want my cup!" Carter cried.

"Mommy is driving right now, you will have to wait till we get to the tattoo shop." Jenna responded, taking a turn onto a small road.

Carter began kicking the back of the driver's seat, his screams getting louder and louder with each second that passed. Dale groaned, leaning to the side he grabbed Carter's water cup and reached back, handing it to me he asked, "Could you hand this to Carter?"

Opposed to his favor, I grabbed the sippy cup and held it out towards Carter.

Carter kicked the cup away from me, I watched as it went flying across the backseat and landed, spilling on the floor. I stared at the kid in outrage. This kid never ceases to amaze me, after whining for five minutes straight about not having his cup, he finally gets it and then kicks it—literally—straight from my hand.

Jenna pulled into a gravel driveway, coming to a stop in front of a small business. The building showed a large wooden door painted in red, beside the door was a broad opening fitted in glass and had the words painted "XXX Skull Tattoo". Lovely; another random place full of random people that I've never met before, and I get to awkwardly sit there for who knows how long.

"Mindy, grab Carter before you come in." Jenna ordered as she exited the driver's side.

Going after his sister, the two of them disappeared behind the big red door of the tattoo shop. I hate those two so fucking much. Jenna didn't even ask if I would mind taking care of her son, she just assumed and left me to deal with him. Typical Dale didn't say a word and just followed his sister like the brainwashed minion he is.

Leaning over, I started to unbuckle Carter from his car seat. At first, he did okay but then he started getting impatient and began flailing his arms and legs, crying as if he was being beaten. I struggled with the belt of the car seat and as I fought to try and remove Carter from the seat, the way he screamed and flailed made it almost impossible.

In the midst of all my anger and frustration, I ripped away from Carter and stared down at him. "Okay, listen here you little shit. I have been putting up with your unmannered ass for too long now and I have had enough. If you don't stop kicking and screaming, I will give you a fucking reason to cry like that."

There was silence in the car as Carter stared up at me in horror. For once, the kid didn't say a word. Successfully managing to get Carter out of the seat, I jumped out of the car, walking around to the other side, I opened the door and helped Carter get out. The two-year old quietly walked in front of me as we entered the shop.

Greeted by a flat screen television that hung on red-covered walls, the band AFI played loudly and the faint sound of a tattoo machine mixed in with the song. I looked around, observing more of my surroundings. There was a glass countertop that framed figures of skulls and… pipes. Go figure.

Outlining the countertop were three checkered barstools and one other sat behind the counter, in the back of the shop was two tattoo booths. One of them was enclosed by gray walls and the other had an opaque massage table planted in the middle. From what I thought was just a bathroom, also lead towards a small apartment where Dale emerged from.

"Oh, there you are." Dale said.

I squinted at him in annoyance. "Was I missing?"

He chuckled, picking up Carter. "Follow me, let's go smoke some weed."

Disinclined, I followed Dale into the bathroom and on the opposite side of the wall was another door. I felt like I was in Narnia, sadly what laid beneath the door wasn't a magical wonderland but a room full of dickheads.

Jenna was seated in a chair, to the right was some woman I had never seen before and to the left, sitting on the edge of his—bed (?) was another stranger I had never seen before.

Carter jumped out of Dale's arms, running towards his mom he screamed about how hungry he was. I awkwardly stood by the door I walked through and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that if there's any good in the world—I would leave this place soon.

"Go ahead and sit down." The man on his bed said.

The two of us exchanged cumbersome looks until I realized he was talking to me. Bowing my head as a thank you, I sat down in the chair beside me and tucked my hands between my legs, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Out of nowhere, a large Boxer came rushing out of the kitchen. The dog's stubby tail wiggled a mile a minute as she sniffed around at everyone in the room. Before I knew it, she was already trying to get in my lap. I tried pushing her away, hoping she would go find someone else to bother but sadly; she continued hounding me for attention.

"Maomi!" The man from earlier called out.

The dog tucked her head down, running towards her owner she sniffed around at his feet. He frowned down at his pup, shaking his finger at her. "Stop being up everybody's ass, you know better."

Maomi barked in protest, snorting, she stomped off and had disappeared in the kitchen once more. I relaxed against the back of the chair, assuming Maomi was finished—I discovered in a blink of the eye that she was not done.

It all happened so quickly, I didn't even see it coming. Maomi came charging out of the distance and before I knew it, she had jumped up, tackling me and the chair to the ground. I yelped in surprise, my purse flew up in the air and as it came falling down; it landed on my head. I could feel the straightener I had placed in the middle pocket of my purse knock on my skull and an unbearable throbbing started on the top of my head.

I rubbed my head, struggling to get back up I focused on the sets of different eyes staring at me. Dale and Jenna busted out laughing with the female beside them.

"Maomi!" The man shouted in a deep, threatening growl.

Maomi whimpered as she moved off of me. The man had gotten up and yanked Maomi by the collar, dragging her inside a large dog kennel. Maomi continued whining, trying to fight going in her cage. My face lit up in a bright shade of pink, I quickly jumped up to my feet and brushed off my clothes.

"I'm going for a cigarette." I staggered, making a quick run for the door.

I heard Dale call out something but I chose to ignore him, I was too embarrassed to stick around. Besides, hanging out inside that stuffy room is pointless because I hardly ever socialize to begin with. I threw open the door and let it slam shut behind me. Gasping at the fresh, autumn air I rummaged through my purse, locating my pack of cigarettes I abruptly took a single cancer stick from its place and lit it.

Inhaling the poison, I could feel my muscles relax.

I rubbed the top of my head.

God forbid Dale take on the role of an actual gentleman and help me up and check to make sure I was okay. It's moments like that I'm proven that Dale doesn't give a flying fuck about me and never will. This is why I have lost all feelings for him.

It reminds me of the time when one of Dale's friends was hanging out with me. Dale had been gone, visiting with his brother and it was just Dale's friend and I. The guy wasn't that bad at first, but then he started tickling me—now, I'm a ticklish person on every inch of my body and frankly, I don't think it's funny nor cute, but really fucking irritating. So, Dale's friend tickled me and I tried breaking away and when I tried, his friend decided to make a move and grabbed at my vagina.

Yes. My vagina.

And when Dale's friend tried to sneak his way inside of my pants, I slapped his hand away and left after cursing him out. I told Dale that same day and instead of getting jealous, mad, upset—he laughed. Because it's so funny that a close friend is trying to fuck your girlfriend, right?

I'm not really sure I understand reality anymore. I know that I can be very possessive, and if some woman tried putting her slimy hands all over my man, I would have cut her up and disposed of her body. But, according to the 21st century, if you get jealous over your lover—it means you're a psycho.

I was taught that jealousy is normal and a healthy factor of relationships, of course there are people in the world who take their jealousy too far, but overall I was told it wasn't a bad thing. I don't think that Dale should have flipped out and walked over to his friend's house trying to beat the shit out of him, but laughing? How is me getting molested funny?

I don't know anymore. Maybe I have my right and wrongs mixed up.

"I'm sorry about Maomi, are you alright?"

I jumped in horror, turning to see the same man from earlier. My mouth hung open in shock and I squinted, wondering why he was being so nice.

"Uh, yeah. Don't worry about it, it's my luck."

He laughed lightly. "Maomi is a real hyperactive breed of dog… though that's the first time I've seen her tackle somebody like that."

"There's a first time for everything, right?"

"I suppose so. Seriously though, you didn't get too hurt did you?"

"My purse fell on top of my head and I came to the conclusion that I should probably clean out my purse… That really hurt."

Laughing again, he shook his head. "I heard it when the purse hit your head, it was a loud thud. What all do you even have in there?"

"A straightener, which is what hit me, my makeup, tampons, period pads, my wallet, a bunch of random pens, a knife, and… I can't really remember what else."

"Jesus Christ, you weren't kidding. That thing has to weigh at least five pounds."

"Probably."

He glanced at his phone, reading the time and placed it back in his pocket. "Time to head back inside." And with that, he entered back into the building.

I followed him, taking a seat on the barstool, I placed my purse on the counter and unlocked my phone. Dale appeared behind me, looking over my shoulder and at my phone screen he hummed.

"So, Jenna is getting that tattoo done right now. I wanted to watch, but I'm going to leave Carter with you." He said.

"Oh, okay."

"Is that okay?"

"Why ask? You already decided. Just go watch Jenna get her tattoo done."

Dale frowned at the tone in my voice. "Are you alright? You didn't get hurt in there, did you?"

Oh, so now it matters.

"I'm fine, don't worry. I'll watch Carter."

Dale walked off into the enclosed tattoo booth, on the floor sat Carter playing with his little toy car. I sat for about a good thirty minutes staring at nothing and the boredom finally got to me. I noticed a stack of blank papers seated on the corner of the counter. Grabbing a single piece, I laid it in front of me and pulled a pen from my purse.

I scribbled a random Anime girl's face. Her eyes were slightly unleveled, her mouth was the generic simplistic line and overall—it was a bad drawing. It was quick and sloppy, nothing to be proud of, that's for sure.

Consumed by my own business, I didn't see that the man from earlier had been watching me the entire time. When I finally met his gaze, my heart skipped a beat and I blinked frantically, trying to understand why he was staring at me.

"That's really good."

"What?"

"Your drawing. It's good."

"This?" I was flabbergasted, looking at my drawing and his expression to figure out if he was just yanking my chain or actually being serious.

"Yes. You drew that in, like, what? Two minutes with a pen?"

"So… what are you getting at?"

"I'm saying you drew that well of a face in less than two minutes with an artist's worst utensil. You've got a natural talent and I envy you for it."

"Envy? You're envious of me?"

"Why is it so hard for you to take a compliment?"

There was a moment of silence. My eyes were wide, in shock, and I was speechless.

"A-ha. I got you." He grinned in accomplishment. "Trust me, I've been a tattoo artist for over ten years. I know talent when I see it—and you have it. I'm not just some random person saying you have talent, I'm an artist and I know an artist when I see one."

"I—I think artist might be a little over exaggerated. I'm flattered you like this drawing, really, but, I hardly ever draw and I definitely haven't earned the title of an artist."

"Don't be ridiculous. Every artist starts somewhere, you may not be the world's best but you certainly could be if you took it seriously and committed yourself to drawing."

"You really think so?"

"Think so? I know so. I can see it in you, you've got the talent. Would you consider pursuing your talent?"

"Like, as a career?"

"Precisely. I'm asking because for a while now I have been looking for an apprentice."

"What's an apprentice?"

"An apprentice is the equivalent of an intern. Basically, I hire on an apprentice and they learn how to tattoo—for free, but in return they clean up after the shop, help with stencils, and much more."

"Oh, wow. Sounds interesting, for sure."

"Would you be interested?"

The question threw me off guard, I wasn't expecting to get offered a job. This man really sees something in me and truthfully, it's been a long time since anyone has looked at me and thought I had potential of some sort. In fact, I'm typically the child who is expected to be selling myself on the streets within the next few years and be dead in ten years.

I shrugged. "I would be. What do I have to do for the job?"

"All you will need to do is create a portfolio. A portfolio is going to show me what all you can do. You'll draw me at least five images, put them together in the traditional school binder and bring them back here and show me."

I raised my eyebrows in wonder. My heart raced in excitement, something was actually bringing life to me. With my eyes wide and a big, cheesy smile forming on my lips I nodded in response.

"Absolutely! I would love to take the job!"

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing your portfolio—um, what's your name?" he asked.

"I'm Mindy."

"Pretty name. I'm Kane." His hand reached across the counter for mine.

The grin on my face ceased to dissipate as I shook his hand pleasantly. Things were starting to finally look up, maybe this was the break I had been searching for.

Or maybe it was the beginning of a new nightmare.

. . .