The Tattoo.

[Amorphous.]

Whassup, everyone. This is an excerpt of my newest story, The Tattoo. I am working on it at the moment and it is supposed to tie in with Belonging. There is a creative writing section in our Trial and Real Higher School Certificate exam, so that is what this is for.

I gave it to my teacher and he said the concept of the tatoo in the story is "OK" and it connects well with belonging but it needs to be more closely related to... Reality.

I know no story which is closely related to reality. Exaggeration LOL, calm down hehe .

Tell thee what you think, it is what I have so far, from the first word.

"I woke up to the sounds of my favourite song and the sights and smells of what used to be last night. Now the morning after. David Guetta and Usher Raymond soothing a battered head. What even happened last night? The moment I got up I immediately realised what happened. The rusty, vintage alarm clock (which didn’t work by the way) said 2PM January 1, 2012. I walked towards the bathroom, struggling to keep my feet and looked at my “new self” in the mirror. There was a note on the mirror too:

“NEW YEARS RESOLUTION: GET A TATTOO”

A smirk of amusement only lasted a matter of seconds before I realised it wasn’t a joke. I lifted my shirt and saw the unthinkable. Green with shades of very dark blue a man was smiling at me. At least 8 inches tall with a massive grey beard and a hat on his hand, he bore the same smirk I had on a matter of seconds ago. Inhabited on my chest was an Irish Leprechaun who seeked refuge on my body in a moment of blind drunkenness, only one part of the night that was. I was horrified.

There was no way in the world I would do this in my waking hours. Even though I now know what happened, I kept questioning it. Surely not. I was a model for a long time before this and I have a photoshoot, the first one in two years on Thursday. Rolex will sadly greet a model and a leprechaun too on Thursday. At least he was looking forward to it.

In the mirror, there he was, smiling comfortably on my skin. I only had five words. “What are you looking at?”

…

The whole day, two minutes so far, I was contemplating what might have happened to me last year. Or last night. I was so absorbed in it that I forgot my favourite song was still playing.

“I am lost

I am vain

I will never be the same without you

Without you

Without you”

The song ended and it was not what I expected it to be. Instead of my favourite radio station, 2FMFM, which had the legendary Robert Smile behind the microphone, a young man was speaking in a foreign language. I had a foreign night, I had a foreign creature stuck on me and now I was in a foreign world?

“Bonjour, en soirée ou dames jour ou de unit ou l'après-midi et Messieurs et bienvenue à l'émission. Ce fut le coup étonnante par l'huissier incroyable et l'étonnant David Guetta. Sans vous. Je ne peux pas vivre sans toi!!!!!!!!!!!!”

An awkward silence immediately followed. I knew no one was there to break the silence. Or so I though. I don’t know why but something dragged me to a horse in the corner of the room. Carved meticulously out of nothing but pine and heavily lacquered. A Dark Horse. I could have sworn three minutes had passed just looking into it’s eyes. The eyes are the windows the to the soul and this Dark Horse stared not at me, but into me, a reflection of the Carpentry God who created thee.

But it wasn’t the Dark Horse. The moment I heard the voice, a small, but convincing voice, I immediately froze. For a split second that is. I heard a muffled young man. Muffled, young and deep.
And Irish. He said only two words:

“It’s French!”

Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, I tried to brush off the man or woman or tattoo or thing which has made me home. A talking nightmare from the night before. I let out another bloodcurdling scream.

“Oh, my god this thing must have a mind of it’s own.” The half an hour after that was a blur. I had blacked out. I had fainted in the middle of a hangover with nothing… No one to help me."

THANK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU....

[Coffee.]

Originally Posted by Oneirophobia

"I woke up to the sounds of my favourite song and the sights and smells of what used to be last night. Now the morning after. David Guetta and Usher Raymond soothing a battered head. What even happened last night? The moment I got up I immediately realised what happened. The rusty, vintage alarm clock (which didn’t work by the way) said 2PM January 1, 2012. I walked towards the bathroom, struggling to keep my feet and looked at my “new self” in the mirror. There was a note on the mirror too:

I really like this beginning! Gives a nice beginning to it all. I'm going to advise you to maybe find a way to start this showing rather than telling. For example, "the sights and smells of what used to be last night" is very poetic, but you can make it shine a bit more! Why not have it (this is an example, use it to what applies better to your story "the sights of green-tinted beer bottles and the smell of bad choices; the remnants of last night." It gives it a stronger image that brings the story together.

Originally Posted by Oneirophobia

A smirk of amusement only lasted a matter of seconds before I realised it wasn't a joke. I lifted my shirt and saw the unthinkable. Green with shades of very dark blue a man was smiling at me. At least 8 inches tall with a massive grey beard and a hat on his hand, he bore the same smirk I had on a matter of seconds ago. Inhabited on my chest was an Irish Leprechaun who seeked refuge on my body in a moment of blind drunkenness, only one part of the night that was. I was horrified.

LOVE THIS! Description is great!

The rest of it, I would make it a big clearer, but I like the verbal explanations for what is going on, it makes the story very mysterious and fun to read! But you may want to clarify a bit, I had to read it a few times to get the story. And is this the end? I think an expansion would be great, there can be a lot more of symbols and meanings behind this story if you decide to expand it.

Good luck!