Chapter Text
“Hold still.”
“I am! It fucking hurts!”
Siobhan couldn't help but laugh at her brother whining. They sat under a tree in the skate park, a needle in her hand, and a small container of black ink between them.
It took some convincing since David was concerned about the health risks. He called Siobhan crazy when she took out an alcohol wipe to sanitize his arm.
“I'm literally almost done.”
“Yeah, you said that fifteen minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but I mean it this time. Done!” She pulled out her compact and held it up so he could see. Right in the crook of his upper left arm was the simple words, “I love you” written out in her handwriting.
David held back a smile. “This is objectively super lame.”
She made no effort to hide back her smile. “I know. Do you love it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let me wrap it.” She took out plastic wrap and tape from her bag.
“Do you just bring this stuff with you everywhere?”
“Don't ask stupid questions,” was her reply as she finished taping him up.
David admired it for a second, then panic flashed on his face. “Oh, God. Dad's gonna kill me.”
“Will he kill both of us?” Siobhan asked, indicating her matching tattoo in the same spot. In David’s handwriting, it just says, “Dork!”
“Yeah! He will!” David laughed.
“Hey, let's go see what Rich and Donnie are doing.”
The two teens, the girl 16, the boy 15, made their way back over to their friends.
A year later, a similar scene played out.
“Why, oh why, do I let you do these things.”
“Hey, I'm actually trying to learn this shit for real,” Siobhan said with a much larger needle in her hand that was getting closer and closer to David’s face. “This will look sooo good I promise. Take a deep breath and count to three.”
David took a deep breath and just said, “One,” knowing she'd push the needle through then instead of waiting. As predicted, he felt a sharp pinch go through his septum. “Fuck!”
“You're good! All done!” At least they were indoors this time and David had seen her clean just about every surface in this bathroom before starting.
He'd be damned if he didn't say he loved it. It took much less convincing on Siobhan's part for this one as he'd already started stretching his ear lobes. The simple black horseshoe hanging off his nose made him feel way more badass.
He was starting to get a little collection. On the back of his other arm was another stick n pokes Siobhan did of a simple drawing of an apple. It was a known fact that David literally ate an apple a day.
“You're a superstar at the farmers market,” his mom would tease.
The reveal of the new piercing to their parents was anticlimactic. They've gotten used to this kind of thing. “As long as you're getting good grades and you're not hurting anyone, you're okay,” is what their dad always said.
However, Siobhan did not get good grades. Their parents weren't upset with David, but a little upset with her. This was one of the many instances she internalized when she was compared to one of her siblings. When one got praised but she got shamed for the same thing.
It was a common occurrence between her and the eldest sibling Rowyn.
She was pulled out of her head when her dad asked David, “Can you still sing with that thing?”
David was the least musically inclined of the four siblings, but he could strum a basic melody on a guitar, and was quite easy to coach on singing. Siobhan smiled and retrieved her acoustic guitar from her room.
She started strumming a simple folk song. One about devotion, about dying together and becoming food for the earth. The chorus lends itself to be harmonized and the two sounded good together. They performed just for the delight of their parents, but it brought them joy as well. They shared a smile as the song ended.
A year later, the Great War started.
David, now 17, told Siobhan he was thinking of joining the military. She looked up from her laptop where she laid in her bed. She scoffed. “What?”!
“Don't you think that's the noble thing to do?” He asked. “Join with me.”
She laughed incredulously. “David, no.” She shook her head and her face fell as she realized he was being serious. She shut the laptop and sat up, swinging her legs off the bed. “David…”
“Siobhan, I think I've already made up my mind on this. I've even talked to Dad–”
“You think? How about this: don't do it. It's stupid, we don't need to get involved. God, the military, David??” She was standing now, her voice getting higher in pitch as she felt panic set in.
“I'm sorry, Siobhan.”
She spent the next year begging him not to go.
On one weekend that seemed nothing out of the ordinary, Siobhan asked David if he wanted to visit their older sister Aisling at college. He gave the excuse of having too much homework.
She scoffed and told him he works too hard. Then left his room and packed a bag.
He stared at his doorframe a little too long after she left.
When she got back home on Sunday night, she was met by her parents in the living room, looking like they were consoling each other. Her mom was crying.
Siobhan dropped her bags. “What's wrong?”
Her dad wordlessly handed her an envelope. “For Siobhan” was written in David’s handwriting. Without opening it, she knew what it contained. She collapsed to the floor as she gasped and sobbed. She clutched her chest in what was the hardest cry of her life.
David, sitting on his cot, opened the small chest of his personal items. His skateboard, pink towels, pictures of the family cats, and a single needle, the tip stained in black ink.
He knew it was dangerous to keep. He wasn’t going to do anything with it. But when he felt nervous, it was good to hold.
When he got his first assignment, that very first night, he held the needle in his fist and kissed his knuckles. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.
But no one whispered back.