Once I got back to my cot...
"Ah, that feels good."
I placed the ice pack I got from the first aid kit on to my swollen hand. The coldness from the ice pack instantly dulled the throbbing pain.
"Is it bad?"
Amanda, who was sitting adjacent to me on Andy's cot worriedly asks.
Showing a bitter smile because of how worried she is, I tell her.
"It's fine. It's only a minor bruise. If I keep the ice pack on it, the swelling should go down in about couple of minutes or so."
"Fuu, that's good. Uhm, Desmond?"
"Yeah?"
"... I'm sorry!"
With a sad and guilty expression on her face, Amanda apologies.
Feeling a little flustered due to Amanda's sudden apology, I shake my head side to side and frantically say.
"T-there's no need to apologise!"
"But I'm the reason your hand got hurt!"
"This isn't a big deal! I used to get a bunch of these back in middle school! I went to the nurse's office so much back then that me and the nurse got to know each other on a personal level!"
I fondly remember Ms. Chester, she was a nice but tough old lady. I wonder if she kicked the bucket yet...? Nah, knowing her, maybe not.
"But…"
"Hey, no 'buts'! And besides, he deserved it."
Insulting my mom is an absolute no-no. Those who do will pay the price.
"Uhm, Is her name the tattoo on your left arm?"
"Well, it's about time you asked."
"W-what do you mean?"
"Haha, you didn't think I wouldn't notice you sneaking glances at my arms every now and then?"
"... Sorry."
Embarrassed about being found out, Amanda bashfully lowers her head. Her flustered expression is cute.
"Since you wanna see them so bad, I'll show you."
As I said this, I put down the ice pack, take off my Blazer and slowly rolled up my sleeves to show her the tattoos that covered my arms.
I'm not uncomfortable doing this by the way, in fact, I don't mind showing them off. It's just that this school has a stigma regarding tattoos that I couldn't wear them out in the open. I even had to wear a long sleeve shirt during gym class.
If it wasn't because this school was such a good and prestigious one, I might've went back to public school. Teens with tattoos at those schools are a dime a dozen.
"What's that one?"
"That on is…"
The first tattoo Amanda pointed at was the one on the back of my right forearm. It was the iconic Latin phrase 'Memento Mori' written in cursive.
"What inspired you to get that one?"
"Easy. It's because my last name is Mori. I thought it would be cool to get this tattoo since my name was in it."
I know it's stupid but hey, this tattoo rocks!
"I see...then what about this one?"
"This one's a very sentimental one."
The next tattoo she pointed was the one that covered my entire inner left forearm. It was Tupac's most famous poem, 'The Rose That Grew From Concrete.'
"It's a wonderful poem. What made you get it?"
"I decided to get this tattoo because of my dad. He was originally from Compton, which during the 1980's and 90's was filled with nothing but drugs and violence. It was only through his hard work and dedication, that he managed to make it out of there. So, to me, he was the definition of a rose that grew from concrete."
"Wow! Your dad is amazing!"
"He was amazing...He died overseas seven years ago. He was a private contractor."
I said a little sad. My dad was a fun and outgoing man, he never let stuff get to him. Whenever he got back from a job, he would spend all of his time with me and mom.
Those were good times. To bad they're gone now, one I.E.D. was all it took.
One motherf*cking I.E.D.!
"*Gasp* I-I didn't mean to bring up bad memories!"
Amanda quickly said trying to cheer me up.
With a deep breath, I get my emotions under control and tell her I'm alright.
"It's okay. Although he's gone I still have a lot of good memories about him...Now, as for the last two tattoos. As you saw earlier, this tattoo is my mom's name. The reason why I got this one is pretty self-explanatory...
I then show her the tattoo on the back of my left forearm. It was my mom's name written in cursive and it had her date of birth and date of death written under it.
By the way, she was born on June 18th, 1974 and she died on September 16th, 2017. She was 43.
"Lucille Mori. Your mom has a beautiful name."
"Thank you…here is my last arm tattoo."
Wanting to change the subject away from my parents, I move onto my last arm tattoo. It was on my upper right forearm, in simple bold letters, it read...
"Wing Ridden Angel? What does that mean?"
"I got it in remembrance of a certain rapper."
"Who?"
"Unknown Temptation. Do you know him?"
"No. I don't listen to music like that. I prefer reading books instead."
"Oh, so you're the bookworm type, huh? Well, that's fine. You probably wouldn't have liked him anyway. He's very controversial ...Okay, that ends the tour of my arm tattoos. I hope you had a wonderful experience! Would you care to give me a rating?"
Using a voice akin to a tour guide, I show Amanda a smile. In a small laugh, she says.
"Haha, it was a great experience. Five stars!"
"Great! I'm thankful for the feedback! Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
The moment me and Amanda started laughing...
"Attention everyone!"
We heard Big Sis' charismatic voice. Turning our attention her way, we see her standing in front of the bleachers.
"Attention everyone! I need everyone to gather around me! I have a very important announcement to make. Your lives depend on it!"
"Sigh, guess it's time. Let's go over there to where she's at."
"Okay."
Putting on my blazer, I get up from the cot and head towards the bleachers.
"Damn, I'm getting jittery."
I nervously mumbled to myself the closer we got to bleachers. Although, I've been trying to act calm his whole time, I'm actually nervous!
I don't know if my plan is going to work or not.
I hope it works. No, I pray that it works. However, I can't forget the possibility of it not working. And that possibility is what scares me.
"Okay, now that almost everyone's here, I'll get down to business.
While trying to keep my nervousness under wraps, Big Sis' loudly proclaims.
"In a couple of hours we will be leaving the gym!"