[ WP ] Everyone is born with a unique tattoo on their ankle . Whenever you 're responsible for someone 's death , a copy of their tattoo appears somewhere on your skin . Your best friend 's tattoo just showed up on your wrist , even though your best friend is alive and sitting right next to you .

( My first time writing anything. Here goes! ) 
 
 I was awakened by the sensation by a searing pain on my wrist. I bolted upwards, jerking my head around to see what asshole was responsible. Unfortunately, my sudden movements caused a trombone case to fall over into the aisle, waking up a number of groggy band kids on the bus, all of them muttering their disapproval of being woken so suddenly. Sidney jumped awake next to me, startled. 
 
 `` What's up with you?'' she grumbled. She looked at me with her tired eyes. She did n't like to be disturbed from her sleep, especially not after a performance. Sleeping on the bus ride back home was n't comfortable, but it was usually inevitable. 
 
 I rubbed my wrist, feeling nothing but my bare skin. Must've dreamt it. `` Nothing,'' I said. I picked up the trombone case and propped it back up to where it was before. Sidney rolled her eyes, and leaned on my shoulder. She quickly fell back asleep. I chuckled. 
 
 Careful not to disturb Sidney, I cautiously took my phone to check the time. 9:39 pm. Huh. It felt like it was much later. Just as I was about to put my phone away, something caught my eye. On the same wrist where I felt that pain, there was a mark. 
 
 My heart felt like it dropped down to my stomach. I looked away from my wrist before I could see what the tattoo looked like, my chest feeling constricted. No way. I could n't have done it, I could n't have killed someone. I did n't want to look at it; what if it was someone I knew? I would n't have been able to bear it. 
 
 I'll have to look at it eventually. But not now. Not in front of everyone. My god, how would I tell my family? Sidney? 
 
 I tried not to think about it. 30 more minutes and we'll be back in town. I kept trying to sleep, but all I did was rub that spot on my wrist until it was even more raw. 
 
 The next few weeks at school, I showed up wearing an oversized sweatshirt. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I'd take the public ridicule. It's driving me insane. It would be so much easier to just look at it and see who it was, but no matter how I tried, I just could n't do it. Everyday, I'd check and see who was at school and who was n't. I've been anxious and I have n't been eating. I'm a generally quiet kid at school; I do n't have many friends who would've noticed my strange behavior. But Sidney, she noticed. One day, as we were walking home from school, she confronted me. 
 
 `` Jay, I miss the old you,'' she said. `` I wish you would tell me what's wrong.'' 
 
 I shook my head. `` I-I ca n't,'' I stammered. I clenched the left sleeve of my sweater out of habit. I saw her eyes flick down to my trembling hands, then back up to meet mine. Her gaze softened. 
 
 She took a step forward, reaching her hand out to grab mine. `` You know, you can tell me anythin-'' 
 
 `` NO!'' I shouted, panicking. I did n't want her to know. I pushed her away, a little too hard, and she fell back. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock. 
 
 My eyes filled with tears. I hurt her. I hurt her. I could see the blood welling from the scratches in her hands. `` I'm sorry,'' I said, my voice quivering. But before she could say anything, I turned and walked away as fast as I could, making the biggest mistake of my life. 
 
 In the following week after our incident, I avoided Sidney. I wanted to talk to her, I really did. But I do n't think she wanted to see me. I never realized how lonely she was during school. It's not like I was the only person she ever talked to; but when she would talk to other people, she did n't have that same spark, that passion that I adored so much when she was with me. It was all just meaningless small talk. 
 
 I finally decided this weekend that it was time to set things straight. I missed her. I wanted to have my friend back. I'm so sick of being miserable all the time. However, it's my own fault. Sometimes I wonder how much grief would I have saved if I had just looked at my tattoo from the beginning. 
 
 My heart started to pound. I knew what I had to do. I pulled up my left sleeve and examined the tattoo closely. 
 
 It was a peculiar little tattoo. So simple, yet there was beauty in its simplicity. A white lily flower, with its stem in the shape of a treble clef. I've never seen this tattoo before. I was still trembling, but this brought me a little relief. 
 
 I pulled out my cellphone and, with shaking fingers, dialed Sidney's number. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Of course; she never picked up her phone. But a feeling of doubt got into me. I pushed that feeling aside and opened the messenger app. 
 
 `` Hey Sid... it's Jay'' 
 
 I waited a few minutes. No answer, and she had n't read it. I typed another message. 
 
 `` I want to talk to you about what happened, can we meet up later?'' 
 
 No reply. No read. 
 
 Suddenly a chilling thought crept it's way into my head. Sidney's never shown me her tattoo before. What if... 
 
 No. That's silly. 
 
 As the hours passed, I grew increasingly more worried about her. She lived just down the street, it would n't hurt to visit and check on her. I walked to her house with urgency in my step. Once I got to her doorstep, it took about a minute to muster up the courage to ring the doorbell. And it took another minute for someone to come and open the door. 
 
 The door swung open, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol wafting from the house. `` What do you want kid?'' said Mr. Brown, a cigarette in his hand. 
 
 `` Is Sid home?'' I asked. 
 
 He stared me down. `` Should be in her room. She's been in there all day,'' he puffed on his cigarette. I frowned. Not a good sign. He opened the door wider and let me in. It took a lot to not sprint to her room. I knocked on her door. 
 
 `` Sid?'' 
 
 No answer. I knocked louder. 
 
 `` Sid!'' 
 
 No answer. Consumed with worry, I enter without permission. And became immediately mortified at what I saw. There was blood all over the sheets, and Sidney was lying, motionless, in the middle of her bed. I stood, frozen, until my eyes came to a rest on her ankle. 
 
 A white lily tattoo with a treble clef stem. 
 
 Then the world went black.
