“I’ll go buy you some. Do you want anything else?” I turn halfway, holding the door open.
His fingers scratch the back of his neck. “For you to go.” Stubborn man. He won’t let this go until I agree.
I’m not sure it’d be the right move for me. They expect Jim Wilder to attend their festivities. Not histwenty-four-year-old daughter, although, I’m no different. I’ve been in the game for six years. And studied it even longer—my whole life.
“Fine, I’ll consider it.”
“Blakely,” his soft voice stops me from fully exiting the door frame, “Spread your wings, and don’t let this one stone crush them.” This man always knows how to lift my spirit. How to guide, support, and be a shoulder I can lean on. Even when I’m the one he leans on now. Despite the physical and mental pain and the struggles he must face every new day, he still manages to be there for me.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
One tattoo session throws him backward. The pain slowly crawls back and paralyzes him for days. It exhausts him although it also brings him some sort of satisfaction. I never intervene with his decisions because I know that some days he needs it for his soul, despite the warning signals his body sends.
He told me that watching me tattoo brings him so much pride that he can rest more, knowing he has me. He also said it brings him peace which is exactly how I feel.
I always knew I wanted to become a tattoo artist. I was the little girl who ran around his shop, and handed him the tools he needed, the bottles of ink he asked for, and helped him clean everything afterward.
For me, Dad was always the coolest person around with his tatted skin, his friendly personality, and loud laughter.
He even let me get my first tattoo when I was sixteen, only because it was him behind the machine.
I laugh at that thought as I throw the bag in the dumpster a few feet behind the shop. I glance at my wrist where he inked a bow and arrow. I was so excited when I got it. I felt like the coolest kid in the world, and the luckiest to have him as my dad.
It’s always been the two of us.
He taught me everything I know; how to switch gears, and how to change water and oil in old manual transmission cars when I was four. He allowed me to play with his various toolboxes as I pleased. Maybe that’s why I love to do everything on my own. I feel confident enough to approach different tasks even if I never tried to do them before.
After all, I find everything I need on the internet and I hate asking for favors anyway.
Dad made sure I was raised with a wide set of skills.“You don’t throw life a tantrum. You raise hell instead and take matters into your own hands.”
Yeah, sometimes I tried to play by the rules even with the warning signs, and got burned by it.
My biggest weakness, I give too many chances to people who don’t deserve them like my ex-boyfriend, and my two friends who disappeared without a word after they mistreated me a bunch of times in the past.
I gave them the benefit of the doubt repeatedly because I wanted them to live up to their words. I believed them. Tried to show my vote of confidence.
When I realized that no one cared. Not one bit. It blackened my entire soul. I questioned everyone.
How far can they smear the shit beneath the soles of their shoes?
People use kindness and abuse it for their own gain and when we’re out of necessity, they ditch us with no warning. I’ve seen it in this shop countless times with different clients who mistreated Dad after he was nothing but fair with them. I hate when people pretend, fake it, and tell me things they think I want to hear. If I have something to say, I say it. If I don’t, I don’t bother.
I don’t want to be cold even when society pushes me there. I want to be more like dad, living life to the fullest like I’ve witnessed him accomplishing my whole life.
My stomach drops as worry washes over me.
I want him to smile more like he used to. And shower me with his endless wisdom, crazy stories, and silly jokes. I want that light to shimmer in his eyes and stay there for days. And I can’t give him that right now, I can’t be the shoulder he can lean on which is so unfair because he has always been mine and when he needs me the most, I’m failing him.
I feel like I’m being sucked into a black void and darkness is coming out to replace me. That is why I need to step away. I need to get out of my head. I need to live and do something fun for a change other than maintaining my bike accounts around social media where I only post videos with my helmet on so no one would see my face.
I do what I want and keep myprivacy.
When it started growing and gaining more attention I felt extremely grateful to initiate it. It was just for fun, but now, it helps me cope with a lot of things. I get to help others as well and entertain them the best way I can.
I don’t ride with anyone else except Dad, so maybe it’s time to meet some new biker friends and step out of the shell I hid in lately.
