Gazelle is a French acrobat who's in love with her best friend. What happens when her best friend gets a horrifying tattoo? Continue reading to find out! I have no idea if this will be longer than 10 chapters.
(Sorry for short chapter, this is just a first draft.)
I swing carefully back and forth, back and forth. In what seems like an instant, Marcus has caught me with his hands and we are together. He lets go and I am falling down to the ground. Just at the right moment, my feet grasp the bar and I am safe. The audience gasps as I do two flips and land safely on the ground. I am the the lady of the trapeze.
Gazelle lands safely on the ground, her golden brown hair blowing in the breeze of the fans. I wait for the audience's applause to die down, and flip off of my own trapeze. As I land next to her, my right arm begins to burn like fire. Trying to ignore the pain, I smile and wave at our guests. Gazelle waves too, the smile on her face as bright as the sun.
An hour after the performance, I am fixing my hair. The hairbrush moves through my hair and the pain returns again. As I drop the brush, a thought enters my mind. Slipping back the sleeve of my acrobatic outfit, writing appears on my arm. It's bright red, almost like Gazelle's nails. Wait, does it say something? I bring my arm closer to me and the writing translates to French. "Aller à l'artiste de tatouage" (Go to the tattoo artist.) I drop my arm and freak out inside, not wanting anyone else to know about this. Quickly, I get changed into regular clothes and slip through the crowd, avoiding the other performers all the while.
I arrive at the tattoo artist's and ask for a tattoo.
The tattoo artist speaks, "Sure, where?"
I reply, pointing to where the writing had appeared, "My right arm please."
The man nods and points to the chair, as he gets to work. I close my eyes and bear the pain. An hour of torturous pain later, I am back at the circus with my sleeves pulled down covering the tattoo. Walking into the tent, I spot Gazelle. Her face is burning red.
She speaks, "Where were you earlier? It's almost time for our next performance."
As I check my watch, I reply, "Oh, crap. Umm, I was getting a haircut. Yeah. That's it."
Gazelle speaks sarcastically, "Sure."
I run back to my changing room and change into my performing clothes. The snake and crossbones tattoo begins to glow and suddenly, I'm out cold on the floor of my dressing room.