Tattoo: A Narrative Fiction

"I put my needle sticking it through and through and over and over laying the lacerated parts together as nice as I could with my hands."

“Please, you never got laid at all,” he hoots, howling with amusement at the prospect of my love life exploding from a poorly done snake tattoo. Good. My best friend’s back to normal now. Mission completed, I jump into the tent for a second and come out with one of my favorite photographs. It’s one of us on that backpacking trip; right after I got the tat in some back-street shop that probably didn’t even sterilize their needles. By the grace of God I didn’t get some awful blood borne pathogen from that place. I’ll never stop being thankful for that one. Turning it over, I read the inscription I wrote after I found out all my tests had come back clean.

‘The tattoo’ is a novel which was written by Chris McKinney about a young adult named Ken ‘Kenji’ Hideyoshi who was sent to the Halawa Correctional Institute. Inside he tells his personal struggle of living life as a Japanese male brought up in Hawai’i, being exposed to poverty, colonialism, violence, urban gangs, and drugs. In this essay, I will argue that one can learn criminal and violent behaviour by those who they hold close interpersonal relationships with, for example, family and friends. In saying that, I will be using the social learning theory looking in particular at Edwin Sutherland and his notion of differential association and Akers concept of differential reinforcement to explore the relationship between Ken Hideyoshi and Koa Puana.

I’ve always felt like my story involves taking two steps forward and three steps back. Like I am always heading towards the Promised Land, and I am never going to get there. Because of this, getting tattoos has always been an outlet and a healing process for me. The first tattoo I got was the Chinese symbol for love. I was 16 at the time, and it was a reminder that I always wanted to have love in my life.

Ashton was visiting for a weekend, it was only him. Calum had to stay back and look for Michael, as he had ran off again. I hugged Ashton and looked at him. Ashton got in my car and smiled. I hugged him tightly. “It’s been too long!” I yell and he laugs. “I like the hair, you changed it up a bit since the last time I saw you.” He greeted me, I smiled and shook my hair. I had dyed it blonde and brown. I decided I need a change. “How’s Tate?” Ashton looked at me while I was driving. “He’s on edge because of the baby, but he’s good. Brooklyn?” I smiled and he chuckled. “She’s 4 months,” It was all he needed to say. “You guys are having another fucking baby! Oh my gosh!” I squealed as my car came to a stop. Ashton blushed and felt my stomach. I felt her kicking. “Do you know yet?” He asked and I

City units were dispatched to a call of a disturbance at 938 Water St., apartment 206. The RP said they did not see the disturbance/argument, but could hear yelling and banging around. The RP said that they went in the hall and could see the front door to the apartment smashed in. The RP also said that the male half is named Gary and owns the Tattoo parlor down stairs around the block. The RP advised that the female half is named Tiara.

“Though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not,” This quote by C.S. Lewis speaks to the idea of God wanting more for us. God is someone who is always there for you no matter what happens. Though we may kill, steal, cheat or otherwise sin, God’s love never fades. The idea of the love of God never fading is very much prevalent in the novels Tattoos on the Heart and Alive. The struggles of gang members on the streets of Los Angeles and survivors of a plane crash in south America are connected through the faith they have lost in God.

The sound of construction crews and the smell of wood, plaster, and paint was so common placed now that it had become just another aspect of everyday life. With so much constant damage being done hourly, the only choice that could be made was to remove everything of value and replace them with easily replaceable and worthless copies of the originals. Not only was seeing Nate at the movie premiere was bad enough to cause the destruction of another room, but Quinn Holden was now openly dating Kendra Paisley’s best friend. Worst of all (if that were possible) the girl was being touted as a better actress then my daughter and had revived his musical career with only a few words. A knock came to his door and it was extremely long over do.

As a kid, you’re not supposed to experience true sadness, or that’s what I thought. Losing one of the few people that care for you is one of the toughest things to handle, especially when you’re little. You know they’re gone, but yet you still feel like they’ll always be a part of you.

At least she’d drawn blood. It was Quade that she’d stuck, and she was glad for it, even if the damage was minimal. It hadn’t been Quade’s first time on the wrong end of a blade, either. The man was built like a lugnut, and he had a thin, shiny canyon of pink scar tissue snaking down across his face, from above his right eye to the edge of his left jaw. It must have been a real feat just to keep that pug nose intact. “You won’t be so feisty once you meet Mr. Talmidge, miss,” he drawled. He’d torn a section from his t-shirt and tied it tight over the gash she’d made in his forearm with the little pocket knife Brian had given her for her birthday so many years before. She’d finally had a chance to use it for something other than picking splinters.

Joan cut in. “Let’s not harass poor Gawain now. And Wallace, two more sutures and we’re done. You’re a brave boy.”

“Hello, I am the doctor,” he said to the tattoo artist with a bright smile, “who might you be?”

The slow rays of the first morning light begin to peak pleasantly through the gap between the two linen curtains. Although my eyes are severely tiered and the light stings, I can’t help but stare at how beautiful it looks. I begin to stroke the pure white cotton sheets; stroking the crisp creases of it in the palm of my hands. Due to the sun’s beams, my son’s soft blonde hair glistens gently resting on his forehead. The fresh bandages are neatly wrapped just above his bushy eye brows covering the wound underneath. They stare at me, shamming me for the awful incident of yesterday. Will it leave a scar? What will he say when he wakes up laying between these blank walls?

In the past, tattoos were commonly thought of as trashy or bad. One would often relate them to bikers, rock and heavy metal stars, pirates, or gangsters. That has considerably changed over the years. According to Swan, "In 2003 approximately 40 million Americans reported to have at least one tattoo." Today's culture is still fascinated with tattooing. In the 1990s, tattoos were the sixth fastest growing retail behind the Internet, paging services, computer and cell phone services. 28% of adult’s ages 30-39 were tattooed and that number rose to 36 percent in the 25-29 age group. 31% of the gay, lesbian and bisexual population, regardless of age, was inked as well. Tattoos are significant because they

“I didn’t invite you to sit either, but looks like you don’t care about that.” A raised eyebrow accompanies Raven’s words, but her eyes fall on Anya’s forearms when the girl rests them against the surface of the light wooden table, her fingers interlaced. She can finally see the whole design of the tattoo she had glimpsed on Anya’s hand at their first encounter. She forces her eyes to move back on Anya’s when the girl releases a small laugh at her statement, but she would like to attentively observe the other charming tattoos engraved on her dusk skin.