The Rose Tattoo

It was at a small Pizza Hut in my small town. I hadn't been there in a few months, but something in my gut told me I needed Pizza Hut. So, that's where we went, my dad and I.

The service was bad. It took them forever to get our drinks, and about twice as long to get our food. I felt bad for dragging my father out.

The pizza was good. Average. We talked about high school and college and the future. We stayed longer than we had orginally planned, getting lost in time and conversation. An angry baby a few tables over kept screaming, piercing our eardrums every once in a while.

We stood up to leave. We went to pay, where a young girl was helping us check out. She had dyed-black hair pulled half-up-half-down. Her glasses were cirular.

I waited on a bench as Dad paid. As he was scribbling his signature on the reciept, he called out to me.

I glanced his way and stood up. I made my way over to him, mumbling out a "hmm?" as I looked over his shoulder.

He looked up at the girl as he handed her the reciept. "Show her your tattoo," he said to the girl behind the counter.

The girl smiled shyly as she lifted her arm and flipped over her wrist, exposing an elegant tattoo of roses with stems and petals and thorns.

But it was not the tattoo my dad wanted me to notice. Nor was it the thing that caught my eye.

Instead, it was the small scars that lined up her arm, reaching all the way to her elbow crease. There were quite a few, all faded but noticeable.

Without a moment of hesitation, I looked up at her, into her round glasses that framed small, strong eyes.

"It's beautitful," I said, as I plastered on the warmest smile that I could muster.

Her small, strong eyes framed by round glasses lit up. Her cheeks lifted into a crooked smile, exposing crooked teeth. She radiated light.

She nodded at me, but I could tell she was happy. And thankful.

She continued to grin as we left, and I knew what I had done.

My heart felt fuzzy and sad. Full and empty.

Despite the annoying baby, the terrible service, the subpar pizza, I was there that night for a reason.

A purpose.

To the girl with the dyed-black hair and slender build. With round glasses and small eyes. With pale skin and scars. With the elegant rose tattoo.

You are beautiful.