I was eighteen, it was my first year in uni. I was in the States. No parental supervision.
At around 4am I was having a cigarette with my eccentric friend, a goth with green hair.
It was the middle of winter, freezing, but the windows were open, and we were chit-chatting and laughing. All of a sudden she took one of the cushions from the sofa and said ‘I bet you the tattoo of my choice – which I will pay for – if you take a cushion, throw it out the window, and it goes further than mine.’
I took the challenge. I grabbed a cushion and threw it out the window.
But it landed in a bush, closer to us than her cushion.
She picked this design that I hated and I chose the area where it was going to be.
It’s on my right side.
So that’s it. Stupid. Eighteen. Reckless.
I just loved that friendship but I had no choice, I had to end it. She was brilliant and always so kind to me, but time and experience shifts something.
A fragility she always had made it impossible. It shattered.
We've lost touch but I have her mark on my side.
told by mari