The decision was final. No backing now! That’s what he chanted in his mind. With this mantra, he entered the tattoo artist’s studio. He gave them the idea of what kind of tattoo he wanted. A hint of a doubt for his decision was still in his mind, even though he seemed calm on the surface, tapping of his feet continuously gave away the turmoil in his insides. After finalizing the designs, he laid on the bed. The surface beneath his cheek gave him a bit relief and he released the breath he was holding. As the tattoo artist began the work, his eyes shut close. The needle started biting in his skin. The pain he got from the needle was nowhere painful to where his mind was drifting. The Past. The Memories. Behind the closed eyelids, the brain played the game of memories.
At the tender age of 5, he knew his father’s habit of drinking and smoking. The little kid tiptoed in the house with silent steps to avoid any voice that was possible. But luck wasn’t at his side. His old man heard him coming and today he decided to shower the kid with his wrath! What had the kid done in all the money his dad lost because of his gambling? What was his fault in the bankruptcy of the company? Yet he suffered the pounding of the belt.
“Ahhhhhh!” he screamed as his dad’s belt connected with his gentle skin. Without touching, he could feel the bruise forming. Belt after belt came and he screamed in the hope of help, maybe? Or what? Not even his mother helped. The throbbing caused by the beating increased to an unbearable level. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he cried for help. Even after beating his soul out of his body, the evil man wasn’t satisfied enough to let him go. Pushing the burning end of the cigarette in his shoulder blades gave an odd feeling of sadistic happiness to the evil. He screeched in pain, “father please let me go, I was nice to everybody today and before. I did nothing wrong father” he said sobbing. The heavy wails were gone unheard on the ears of his so-called dad.
He never understood what he did to receive this. He never would.
But now, at the age of 25, the pain of needle didn’t hurt him but he still had a lone tear dropping from his eyes.
His childhood was tainted. He was the angel who had fallen.
So now he decided to get a pair of wings, which he lost back then.
This pair of black wings hid the scars of his childhood and gave him the sense of rising.
The fallen angel has risen now. His past won’t be able to taint his future.
P.S : Hello there! 💕
This post is a special Sunday one 😉 ( I update on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday 😍 )
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