Shattered echoes

As she blinked awake, the remnants of a dream clung to her like mist, elusive yet suffocating. It took a moment for her to recognize the familiar confines of her bedroom, the walls adorned with pho

ould buy an entire country, but yet here she was broken and with no family. She sighed after standing at the bottom of the stairs overlooking the living room. Pushing away memories that would break her, she made her way to the kitchen. Grabbing a box of cereal. She grabbed a bowl and poured it in, and went to the fridge to get milk only to realize she was out. "Ughh" she groaned closing the fridge with a loud bang and walked out of the kitchen. She entered the living room and grabbed her car keys and left the house, she walked to the garage, in the garage was a motorcycle, a customized purple g wagon, an suv and a beat up Kia. She ignored the fancy cars and went into her beat up Kia that she loved so much. Her parents might not be present, but they never forgot her birthday. So every year she got an expensive gift that she really didn't need. She drove quietly with no music to her place of work. She worked in a tattoo parlor, it was a place where she found peace from all the pain. She walked Into the dim light of the tattoo parlor, the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink. Posters of intricate designs adorned the walls, each telling a story of loss, resilience, and rebirth. Among these works, one stood out-a beautifully rendered phoenix rising from the ashes, its feathers vibrant against a backdrop of darkness. This was lily's work her artistry breathed life into the very souls of those who walked through the parlor's unassuming door. She loved her job, she loved hearing other peoples story, and she also loved giving them hope by giving them new tattoos to make them feel stronger. But yet she couldn't find peace within her self. After the incident lily became a shadow of herself, not talking too much and dressing in clothes that were too big for her slim and petite figure. With her pale skin, jet-black hair cascading down her back, and a wardrobe full of black baggy outfits and a messy hair, she was a haunting figure against the backdrop of everyday life. Yet, in the world of tattooing, she had found her sanctuary. The parlor, aptly named "Elysium Ink," catered to those who had lost faith in life, individuals seeking to reclaim their stories through body art. It was a space where pain transformed into beauty, and Lily was its most skilled artisan. Each day, she sat at her workstation, surrounded by the gentle hum of machines and the soft murmurs of clients sharing their stories. She listened intently, absorbing their heartbreak and struggles like a sponge. For her, each tattoo was more than just ink on skin; it was a visual testament to survival, a reminder that even in darkness, there could be light. "Hey Lily" her manager Scott who was covered in tattoos from head to toe waved at her, she broke into a smile, "how u doin' Scotty" she replied walking to the counter where he stood. "Doing good as always" he said smiling "and how are you" he asked her. "I'm doing good just a lil hungry I might have skipped breakfast because I ran out of milk, so my breakfast is on you Scotty boy"