Amy awoke with a pounding headache. The early morning sunlight glaring through her bedroom window was making it impossible to open her eyes. She moaned out loud and pulled the covers up over her head.
She didn't even remember coming home last night. The last thing she did remember was sitting at the local bar with her friend, Gary. She'd had a few beers and had decided to call a cab to take her home.
Amy racked her brain, trying to remember anything after that, but she was drawing a complete blank. She didn't remember getting picked up by the cab. She didn't even remember leaving the bar.
A stinging on her arm caused her to grimace in pain. She looked to see a tattoo that hadn't been there before. It looked like the number 3. Whoever did it, did a shitty job.
Where the hell did that come from, she wondered. What was in that damn beer she drank? It's like the last 10 hours of her memory was completely gone.
She reached from under the covers, feeling on the nightstand, searching for her phone. The pounding in her head seemed to increase with any move she made.
Finding her phone, she peeked through her eyes enough to scroll through her contacts to find Gary's name.
After a few rings, he answered.
"What in the world happened last night?", Amy asked.
Gary seemed genuinely surprised.
"Amy?", he said.
"Yes! Of course it's me! Who else would it be?"
"I've been so worried about you! After you stormed out of the bar last night, I wasn't sure where you'd went. I went out looking for you, but it was like you'd vanished."
"What do you mean? I don't even remember leaving that damn bar! I woke up in my bed with a pounding headache and a new tattoo!"
"Wow, that's odd. A new tattoo, you say?"
"Are you fucking deaf now, Gary?!"
"Sorry! I don't know what happened. All I know is you stormed out of the bar after arguing with Jeff."
Jeff..that son-of-a-bitch. Her ex had a special way of getting under her skin and pissing her off. She knew she should've left the instant she saw him walk in the bar. Instead, she let him buy her a beer and then piss her off.
"I gotta go," she said abruptly and hung up without waiting for Gary to reply.
Something in her was urging her to get up. She felt a sudden need to find out where this tattoo came from.
She took a bus to go back to the bar and pick up her car. Once there, she drove around the block, looking for any tattoo shops. She's not sure how she wouldn't have known about one in the area before. She frequented that bar a lot.
About a block away, she found a small tattoo parlor. She was hoping like hell this was the wrong place once she walked inside. The smell of sweat made her want to gag. The place was filthy.
The light inside was so dim, she could barley see.
"Wadda ya need, missy?"
Amy scanned the area looking for the voice. The place looked empty. She followed the sound of the tattoo gun buzzing and found a filthy old man giving an unconscious man a tattoo.
"Is he alive?"
"What kinda stupid question is that?"
She quickly changed the subject. She didn't have time to waste. The pain in her head was intense and was making it difficult to stand.
"I was wondering if you could tell me if recognize this tattoo."
"Yep. Sure do."
"Ok? And?"
"And what?"
"You dense old man! Did you give me this tattoo?!"
"Yep. Sure did. Your boyfriend brought you in last night and paid for it, and he paid a mighty big price. That there is a special tattoo. One that very few folks get."
"And why is that, old man?"
Amy was starting to get really irritated. The damn pounding in her skull was driving her insane. It seemed to be vibrating her entire body.
"It puts a time limit on your life."
"A limit on my life?! What the hell does that mean?"
"You got three days to live."
Amy literally laughed in his face. What a quack!
"So you're telling me this tattoo is like a curse? And you're also telling me that you are a murderer? Since you are the one that is giving these tattos
?"
"I'm no murderer. I'm just a old man trying to make a livin. When someone flashes that amount of cash that your man was, I happily oblige. That there is no curse. It's just a very special type of ink."
With that, she stormed out of the tattoo parlor. That old man is out of his damn mind, she thought. If she'd been in her right mind, she would've immediately made her way to the ER.
But the pain she was in was making thinking clearly really tough.
She went home and laid back down. She was desperately hoping the bitch of a headache would ease up. It made it impossible to do much of anything.
When she awoke again, it was dark. She had forgotten to turn any lights on in the house. And she was kinda glad too. She'd never had a headache like this before. The less light, the better.
"I'm gonna sit right here until I know you're dead."
Amy nearly jumped out of the bed when she heard Jeff's voice echo through the darkness.
"Jeff? How did you get in?!"
"I guess you forgot you gave me a key."
Amy was thinking hard, trying to recall where her cell phone was. She couldn't remember!
Jeff continued, "I told you, Amy.. If I can't have you.. No one will. And don't even think about looking for your phone. I took care of that."
Amy was trapped and she knew it.
"Jeff.. Please don't hurt me."
He laughed out loud.
"Oh, you mean like you hurt me? You broke my heart and then stomped on it. But I'm not gonna lay a finger on you. You've got less than 2 days of your miserable life left."
Amy gasped in disbelief.
"The tattoo? You seriously think a tattoo can kill me?"
"The tattoo itself? No. The special ingredient in the ink? Yes."
"Jeff!! Did you poison me?!"
Jeff laughed and said, "I personally only drugged your beer. The poisoning was done by the tattoo artist. But I did pay for it. Happily."
"How could you?", she asked. But he didn't answer.
Amy knew she had to get out of the house and fast. Jeff never gave her a chance. He didn't leave her side.
As another day passed, Amy felt the pain all throughout her body. She was growing weak. She cried and begged Jeff for mercy. He wouldn't show any.
Amy could feel her life slipping away. The poison was making its way through her blood stream, causing organs to shut down.
Suddenly, she heard a pounding at her front door. She heard someone yelling her name. Gary.
She looked over to see Jeff asleep in a chair beside the bed. It took everything in her to scream, but she did.
"HELPPPPP!! Help me, Gary!!"
Jeff pounced on her, tightly covering her mouth with his hand.
Gary knew something was wrong. Amy had missed work the last 2 days and not returned any of his phone calls. He also knew all the trouble she'd had with Jeff.
Without a second thought, Gary kicked down the door. He heard a struggle coming from the room directly down the hallway.
He walked in to find Jeff on top of Amy. She wasn't moving.
Gary picked up the heavy lamp and crushed it over Jeff's head. Jeff slumped forward onto Amy. Gary shoved him off of her and picked her up.
She was barely breathing. He knew he had to get help for her fast. He called 911 once he had Amy outside in his car. She was so pale. He was so worried about her, he forgot about Jeff.
Gary was turning the key to start his ignition when he felt the glass shatter on him. Jeff was reaching through the broken driver side window trying to grab the keys from the ignition.
Gary reached for the glovebox, intending on grabbing the gun hidden inside.
Amy opened her eyes. As if it was a dream, she took in the sight before her. Gary struggling with a blood covered Jeff. She felt like she was in a daze. Everything seemed as if it was in slow motion.
She knew what Gary was reaching for and without hesitating, she got the gun from the glovebox. She knew Gary kept it loaded.
She pointed it at Jeff and fired. She felt the blood spray on her face. She didn't scream. She just stared at Gary.
"Get me to a hospital. Now"
A few days later, Amy was slowly recovering in a hospital bed. Gary was at her side. The doctor told her she didn't have much time left once she arrived. They did everything they could to save her life. It would be a long road to full recovery, but she knew she was going to survive.
She was sure gonna have one hell of a story to tell when someone asked about her tattoo.
No comments:
Post a Comment