Page 51 of Forbidden Knots

He rolled up his sleeves, his arms full of tattoos that told stories of their own. As he dipped the machine in the ink and it buzzed to life, I closed my eyes, placing my hands on my chest.

"Big or small?" he asked.

"I want my whole neck to be covered," I said as the needles touched my skin.

Every prick of the needle, every tear, and shading on my skin, brought my nerves to the point where my eyes watered. Emotions overwhelmed me—Sophie was gone; Thalia was broken. I was so exhausted, knowing I was the main culprit ofall this, that I wanted it to hurt as much as possible. My skin tingled, my teeth chattered as the veins in my arms congealed.

This tattoo, my biggest regret so far, would be a sign, a reminder that my mistakes live with me. That my pain is theirs, and theirs is mine. This tattoo would be a forbidden knot, a reminder that Thalia, no matter how forbidden, would always be mine. Its interweaving lines, without beginning or end, represented our lives, tied together forever.

After a few hours, while I forgot that I existed, my body and skin becoming almost numb to the touch, I got up and looked in the mirror. A rope stretched from one end of my neck to the other, with a knot in the middle, almost loose but as strong as the bond I had with Thalia.

"Storm, now you aremyforbidden knotforever," I whispered to myself.

TWENTY EIGHT

Storm

My eyes opened, and my hands traced the empty sheets next to me, and my whole world crumbled all over again. I stood up instantly, and a small mirror on the wooden wall reflected my bruised neck, numb to the touch.

"How could I have been so fucking stupid?" I sobbed, collecting my clothes and pulling them on.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and all the emotions from the past month collected in a surge of agony, and I let out a loud scream.

"Fuck you!" I shouted.

The sun was shining so strongly that my eyes saw black spots as I stumbled forward on the boat. I jumped into the shallow sea and dragged myself toward the shore.

My whole world had depended on him, my dreams hinging on the belief that he would be the one to save me, but he was gone, just like everyone else in my life.

Once again, I was left all alone.

I slowly walked home, my feet betraying me, and people watched my every move. They gossiped as if they had seen a ghost, their laughs filling the town.

I finally reached home and, as I got inside, I slowly walked up the stairs. When I opened the door to the living room, there was my mom with a man. He was in a black suit, holding a notebook close to his chest, thick glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"Mom," I cried out, running into her arms.

"Mom," my voice broke, tears streaming down my cheeks as I saw her face.

Her palms reached my cheeks, and then she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close and squeezing me tight.

"What happened?" she whispered, seeing the trail on my neck. "Who did this to you?"

I just shook my head, tears falling so fast I couldn't control my sobs, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe.

The man next to us, his lips a thin line, watched and wrote in his notebook. I knew something was wrong. This wasn’t the end.

"Mom, who is he?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"This is Dr. Bloom," she said. "He wants to have a few words with you. Grandma called, and she was very concerned about you," she explained, her palms gently gliding down my hair. "I didn't know the situation was this bad."

"No, Mom, you can't trust her," I said, my voice shaking dramatically, as she parted my hands from her body.

Dr. Bloom shook his head, and two men in white scrubs entered the room.

"No," I shouted.

"No," I screamed.

---