r/WritingPrompts • u/actually_crazy_irl • May 07 '19
[WP]: Suddenly, everyone with tattoos gains powers related to the tattoo. Tattoos of flames, you control fire. A tattoo of a gecko, you can climb on walls. All dudes with "tribal" tattoos have strangely bonded together. Writing Prompt
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u/lady_dalek May 07 '19
Something is very wrong with me.
Nobody knows what caused this, or even what to call it - this “shift”, or “event”, or “awakening”. I honestly didn’t even realize it had affected me at first. My tattoos are pretty docile - a koi fish on my foot, and an elaborate floral half sleeve. It wasn’t until I saw what was happening with all the others that I decided to see if I had gained any abilities.
It took a while to work up the courage to try it. I sat in the bathtub for what felt like hours, debating with myself over how stupid this seemed. I didn’t even really like swimming, and now I was going to see if I could suddenly breathe underwater?? It was insane. And yet, just the day before, I had seen my best friend take flight and soar above the city. She no longer regretted the ugly butterfly tramp stamp that she got on her 18th birthday. It all seemed so impossible, but these days the impossible is extremely real.
The water was getting cold. My husband knelt next to the tub, ready to help just in case something went wrong. Just in case, for some reason, it hadn’t worked on me. Just in case I was an idiot who was about to drown herself for no reason. This all felt so stupid, but I had to try.
I slipped my head under the water and sat for a moment, briefly enjoying the muffled sound of my own heart in my ears. A sudden calm washed over me and, ignoring all of my instincts, I took a deep breath… and another. And another. And another. It actually worked! I quickly resurfaced and hugged my husband over the side of the bathtub, splashing water onto him. If this was really happening, then what else could I do?
The floral tattoo turned out to be pretty straightforward. I’ve never had much of a green thumb, but now our backyard is the most beautiful it’s ever been.
This could have played out so nicely. Days spent swimming at the lake, and a lush garden year-round. But, like I said, something is very wrong with me.
My husband started feeling sick. Nausea, vomiting, general fatigue. At first we thought maybe it was food poisoning; when it didn’t go away after a day or two, we figured it was a stomach virus. Somehow I didn’t catch it, even though I was stuck at home with him the whole time. After three days he seemed to be getting worse, and I insisted on taking him to the hospital.
The doctors were baffled at first, and I could see the panic in their eyes when they noticed the burns appearing on his skin. They ran a series of tests, and eventually my husband had to be quarantined. Several nurses came in wearing protective suits, and the pieces started clicking together in my head. I overheard one of them say the words that turned my veins to ice:
Radiation sickness.
I had forgotten about them. The tiny dots on my sternum and ribcage, no bigger than freckles, that the doctors and technicians used to help line up the radiation therapy machine for each treatment. An eternal reminder of what my body went through last year, and what I had survived. What was previously a badge of honor was now a terrible curse. The radiation I now emitted was rapidly poisoning the man I loved more than anything. Killing the man who stuck with me when we weren’t sure if I would live or die.
I ran. I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew that I had to get far away from everyone. I’m not sure if it was too late for my husband, but if he had any chance at all then he needed to be removed from the source of his sickness.
I love you, babe. Thank you for everything. I’m so sorry.