Ink's Second Chance - Carol Dawn
I think I’m finally going to do it. After a whole year of debating the pros and cons, I’ve finally made up my mind.
I’m getting a tattoo.
With determination, I call for a taxi and ask him to drop me off at the most popular tattoo shop in my town. There are so many here that I would never be able to choose.
“That would be Ink’s Tattoos,” the driver says. “He’s the best artist in the next three states combined.”
Ink’s tattoos? Why does that name sound so familiar?
“Thank you,” I tell the driver, distractedly.
I know I’ve heard of that name before. I mean, it’s not like it’s a common one. But it sure is familiar.
“Here you are, miss,” the driver says, coming to a stop. “Do you need any help?”
“Would you mind getting my chair from the trunk?” I ask. “Just open it and bring it by my door, and I can handle the rest.”
Did I mention that I’m paralyzed? Because I am.
It happened on my twenty-first birthday. I was out celebrating with my older sister and we were hit by a semi-truck. Amazingly, everyone survived.
The truck driver was arguing with his wife over the phone and not paying attention to the road. He looked up at the last second and attempted to move the rig back onto his lane.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough, and the tail end of the eighteen-wheeled trailer smashed right into the front end of my car.
My sister, Becky, and the truck driver managed to escape without much injury. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that same luck. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt and the force of the impact had jerked my body forward. I was microseconds from flying out of my windshield when the airbag popped out and smashed me back against my seat.
I’m not sure if it was the being jerked forward or the airbag slamming me back, but something had caused irreparable damage to my spinal cord.
Luckily though, I can still feel my legs. Which means I can still feel when I need to use the restroom. I’ve also been told that I can still have a wonderful sex life. I’ll be able to feel everything but won’t be able to do all the fun position switches.
Not that it matters anyway. I’ve made a promise to myself to not settle for anything less than amazing when it comes to a man. I’ve seen my sister heartbroken over more than one asshole and I don’t plan on the same thing happening to me. Well, again.
That accident happened eight years ago. And while it made me lose the mobility in my legs, it also opened my eyes to how the world views people who are different.
I’m not the most beautiful woman in the world, but I think I’m alright. Boy’s used to show interest towards me. But now, all I see are looks of pity.
Well, screw them. I don’t want their pity. I’m happy with my life. Sure, it’s hard sometimes, but I get by just fine.
After sliding into my chair, I pay and tip the driver before heading towards the small shop that says, Ink’s, overtop the door.
I look around and sigh when I see no wheelchair-accessible area. Just steps to reach the sidewalk.
It doesn’t matter, though. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with incompetent store owners and their need to save a few bucks. I’ll complain later.
I go down the road a little until I see a road sign near the sidewalk. I grab the sign with one of my hands and my wheel with the other. With a little maneuvering and a curse word or two, I’ve finally made it up on the sidewalk.
I roll myself back toward the shop, open the door, and head inside.
There are images of tattoos all over. One with a cute little dolphin, another a skull with snakes coming out of its eyes. There are dragons, unicorns, cars, portraits, and tons of other images all around the walls.
It’s really a beautiful thing to see.
“Can I help you, pretty lady?”
I look up at the voice and glare when I see his face.
“I knew your name sounded familiar,” I say. It takes all of my willpower to keep my hands on my lap when all I want to do is find something heavy and throw it as his stupid face.
“Do I know you?” he asks with that same damn grin he’s always had. “I don’t think I would have forgotten a pretty face like yours.”
“Don’t you try flattering me,