[ WP ] In order to speak a word , you must FIRST have it tattooed on your body . You can learn a lot about a person by the words they choose to say ...

My family is poor, and as badly as we want to talk, we can only speak a little. We only have a small amount of Tattoo Money, so we have to choose our words carefully. My mom saves up nearly 3000 for each child, and we get our Tattoos when we turn 18. My sisters both chose sensible words, words that would help them get a job so they could get more words, and gradually they built up nearly the entire English language, every word they could need inked on their skin in fine gold colored lettering. They could speak, but they could not pull us out of poverty. 
 
 I turned 18 yesterday, and spent many hours in thought about my tattoos. I knew Mom had worked her ass off to get enough money to allow me to speak, to hear my voice, and so I did the best thing I knew to do. It was n't the most elegant solution, but it would allow me to do something that no one had been able to do since Free Talk became impossible, something that would give me a unique talent and pull us out of poverty, give us more than just a handful of words at a time, give us all we could need. 
 
 I got a few normal tattoos, of course. `` thank'', `` Love'', `` You'', `` Mama'', `` Sweetheart'', `` Help'', `` Baby'', `` sick''. The ones you need to express yourself most. I also got a special tattoo of my own design, based on pictures I'd seen in a school book of an old occultists tool. 
 
 I remember the look on the Artists face when I handed him the tattoo list. He looked confused but determined to see how it would play out. 
 
 I was in the chair for most of the day, gold ink staining my skin, little pricks of pain as a needle slid in and out of my skin sending goosebumps up and down my spine. 
 
 When it was over, I walked outside to where my mom was waiting for me in the parking lot. 
 
 I cleared my throat, rusty unused cords trying to vibrate to life as I struggled to get the first words out. 
 
 `` Thank you, mama, Love you mama,'' I managed to whisper, giving her a hug. 
 
 `` What words?'' She asked, her eyes shining with the same pride and joy she felt when my sisters spoke their first words. 
 
 I handed her the backup copy of my tattoo sheet, her eyes widening as she took in the ornamental piece in the center of the sheet. 
 
 `` A-L-L O-F T-H-E-M.'' I spelled out carefully, the english Ouija Board tattoo on my back burning slightly as I used the letters. `` E-V-E-R-Y W-O-R-D. E-V-E-R-Y L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E. I W-I-L-L B-E A B-R-I-D-G-E B-E-T-W-E-E-N P-E-O-P-L-E-S.''
