I never thought that I would get a tattoo. Mostly because of the pain and I thought it wouldn’t suit me.
But here I am, lying on an uncomfortable bed and watching the young man get the equipment ready. I feel nervous but brave.
I am going to get three tattoos today: one in the middle of my chest and one on each side. I start to feel too warm and wish I could escape outside for some cold winter air. But I can’t. It needs to be done.
It doesn’t help that there are no windows in this room that I can stare out of. No cheerful pictures to enjoy. Just pale magnolia walls and the sterile equipment.
“This might hurt a little.”
He warns me before inserting the ink-filled needle into my skin.
It isn’t too bad. I can’t really feel it, although by now I am accustomed to needles.
I don’t want these but I know that I need to.
I glance up at the large machine over my head. It was used to take my measurements a few minutes earlier. They need to be exact so that the radiotherapy machine hits exactly the right part of my body. The tattoos are used to ensure there’s no movement each time.
I start to feel moody, sorry for myself, but then I shake it off. I am being looked after.
I will be ok.
I can do this.
He smiles, all the way up to his uniform-blue eyes.
The nurse who is also in the room smiles too. But her eyes are sad.
The tattoos are tiny. Three little dots.
I get dressed and leave the room. I never thought I would get a tattoo, but now I have three.
This was written from a prompt: use three words (escape, tattoo and moody) in a short story.