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The Is Not A Fan Of Tattoos

Decent Essays

Imara is not a fan of tattoos. In fact, she hates tattoos, specifically ones without sentimental values. She didn’t think portraits of cartoon characters or philosophical quotes was something to obsess over. Moreover, a majority of her peers has tattoos. Not just any tattoos, weirdly shaped tattoos on their biceps and thighs, legs and hands. There’s even one guy in her Biology class that has a tattoo of lightning on his face. “It’s almost disgusting,” Imara would say to herself when she saw him. “He had such a cute face. Still cute, but the tattoo makes him look ridiculous”. Imara believes tattoos are out to destroy her generation. “Tattoos are stamps that generalize us and make us all look bad,” she said once. Imara speaks against …show more content…

Her blood.” “Coooool.” “I wish I was fierce enough to tat myself like that.” “Ding dong,” Imara rubbed her ear, amongst the comments she could of have sworn she heard a faint doorbell. She tried to look for the source, but the lighting was too bright. She couldn’t see anything. “Imara, you better werk,” “Yass girl,” “All this magic in a minute. What are you a magician?” “Ding dong,” “Forreal, she is so ding dong” Imara rubbed her ear again. The sound of the doorbell was more perceivable. She moved closer to the group. “I’m sorry, what,” she asked aloud. “I said you’re so ding dong. Ding dong, ding dong.” Before Imara could respond, her eyes opened to the sight of her dimly lit bedroom. She glanced at the time on her phone to see ten minutes had gone by. “Ding dong,” the doorbell sang again. She got up and headed to the door. When she opened it, there was no one in sight. The only thing visible was the cloudless sky, unsaturated bluebells, and the vacant street. She closed the door. As she walked back into her room, she bumped her scarred arm into the door handle. “Ow,” she bawled. The intense pain was throbbing. She took a glance at her arm, and noticed a severely red shadow-- her blood was dried up in a dark shade of purple. ”Oh my god,” Imara said in disbelief. She ran to the bathroom. In a frantic hurry, she tried to find rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and gauze pads. Imara searched high and low, but couldn’t find

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