Tattoo Me a Smile

Kirsten was an ex army gal. She had served in Afghanistan and Iraq, seeing combat on several occasions often close up. Little did Kirsten know she would soon meet another soldier with consequences just as fatal as battle. Discharged from the British Army after a shoulder wound, she had time to spare. What to do now? An answer was provided in the form of a random meeting on a Manchester street.

Mark had tattoos; he had many all over his body of different designs. Reading the new edition of Skin Deep tat magazine, he didn’t see Kirsten. He walked into her. Kirsten was busy texting a friend on her new mobile. She looked up at the last minute. Too late! Wham! Both Mark and Kirsten walked into each other. Her mobile phone arced up and away, slow motion style, into space to land on the pavement where it smashed to pieces – the screen popped off, battery jumped out, and covers shot away, ruined! His tattoo magazine fluttered down in a rush of pages to land face down on the broken phone. Kirsten bounced off the object - Mark - that she collided with, almost landing on her shapely backside. She gasped in shock and swore loudly in rage, embarrassment and fright. My phone! she thought!                                         

“You cretin! Look what you did to my phone. Why don’t you look where you’re going? You stupid man!”  The guy, who could have been a lamppost or bus stop for all she knew, just stood there in bewilderment. His magazine fluttered in the breeze, multi coloured images were a collage of pretty confusion, just like the girl before him.                                                                                                                                                                               

“Butterflies”, was the only comment he gasped. Her beauty bewitched him. A spell!

“What? Are you on drugs? Look what you did to my phone! It's ruined!” retorted the angry girl, bending down to pick up her phone, at the same time the guy tried to pick up his mag. Bop! Both heads collided in painful unison, unplanned comedy of the situation. Mark actually went down, fell to the floor almost drunk. Kirsten bounced back moaning in pain, made another go and finally grabbed her phone or bits of it. Clumsily she put it back together then turned it on, nothing, it was dead. Smashed. Mr Wonderful here had ruined it. She only got it two days ago.                                                                       

“Just great! It won’t work and it's all cracked. You owe me a new phone...” her words ended, the man was flat out cold on the ground. Oh my, he must be hurt! thought Kirsten, I’ve got to phone an ambulance to take him to hospital. Trying to dial 999 and the emergency services, Kirsten wondered why she couldn’t get through. He'd bust her phone! She swore again. He could be dying, she had to do something. What? Panic raised her pulse, her heart raced, this is very real, her mind shouted. Bending down to shake the man's arm, she got no response. Normally she would have had a blond moment in a crisis. For some reason, she was thinking clearly.                                                                                        

“Hey, come on wake up, I’m not mad at you, honest, it's just a stupid phone,” Kirsten said in a panicky voice. She saw his chest wasn’t moving. Fuck! Not breathing. I got to do something but what? Kneeling next to him she punched his chest hard. Nothing. Moving to the side she pressed over his heart. Was he dead? What if she had killed him? She didn’t want to be charged for murder! Come on, get a grip Kirsten. The kiss of life! Quickly tying her hair back she attempted to revive him by taking a breath and breathing into his mouth. Nothing! No, her mind screamed, I won’t let him die. Breathing again into his mouth, she pressed his chest and breathed again. It worked! He started breathing, taking in a huge in breath and opened his eyes staring wildly. Capturing the pretty lady before him he smiled weakly. She returned it.

He struggled with his new situation, what the hell? Who’s this here? What's happened to me, have I been mugged? Oh, I don’t feel well, I feel all funny, Mark thought.                                                                                                           

“You had an accident, we walked into one another. You stopped breathing,” Kirsten hesitantly told Mark.                                                                                                                                                                                       

He attempted to sit up and felt very dizzy, lying down again. Just then distant sirens cut through the air. Looking around she saw a small crowd had gathered, watching but keeping a wary distance. Somebody must have called 999. Kirsten suddenly wanted to know this man’s name, “What's your name? I'm Kirsten.”

 As the ambulance pulled into view Kirsten remembered the taste of Mark's lips. Hurriedly she kissed him looking into his eyes, something then captured her heart. This man was a thief! A very special individual spotted only once per lifetime, encountered only one on one in every ten lifetimes.                                                                                                                                                                            

“I'm Mark,” he replied, before he fainted. She caught his head and gently put it on the hard ground. He looked at peace with his eyes closed, on the pavement.                                                                                                                                       

Paramedics rushed over to the incident scene carrying life saving equipment. One young male medic stopped by Kirsten to ask her what happened; she told him as his colleagues did their duties. Kirsten went over how she was doing a text on her phone, when BAM! She walked into Mark. Then clashed heads, how he somehow passed out but Kirsten was okay, giving him the kiss of life and saving his life? The medical staff made rapid progress, a stretcher appeared out of nowhere and slowly Mark was lifted onto the stretcher. Kirsten was quickly checked over. She knew she was fine, that the medic might say you don’t need to be checked out at hospital. She had to act fast; suddenly she sighed and fell to the floor.

Concerned, the medic conversed with his colleague who returned from the ambulance where Mark was. A decision was made; Kirsten was to be checked out. Her heart leapt! She would be with Mark! In the back of the vehicle Kirsten was led to a seat opposite Mark. He saw Kirsten looking at him with big wide puppy dog eyes. He tried to smile behind the oxygen mask that covered his handsome face. Through winding streets the ambulance drove to the city hospital, sirens and lights going. Soon arriving, both patients were taken separately to different departments to be checked and monitored.

Medical staff rushed about in orderly panic doing their jobs: preserving life. Kirsten had a small bump on the head and no other injuries. Checks carried out gave no indication of injuries and she was given painkiller and a cold compress for the bruise that slowly formed. Medical staff checked her files for drug allergies or past ailments; there were none. She was in very good health.

With Mark it was a different story, he was in pain that was gradually got worse. Doctors and nurses checked him over from head to toe. When he bumped heads with Kirsten his impact was worse than hers, he had concussion where his brain had bounced around in his skull bruising it and causing swelling. This shock stopped his breathing. Had it not been for Kirsten initiating the kiss of life, Mark would now be dead in the morgue with a tag on his toe. Unfortunately this may have only been delayed. In Accident and Emergency Mark drifted in and out of consciousness and one time stopped breathing, nurses resuscitated him. He was deteriorating rapidly, a shot of adrenaline and a drip helped but concussion was a potential killer. Ex-rays showed a blood clot slowly forming on the bruise in his brain that if not immediately operated on would kill him. Medical staff liaised with surgeons and anaesthetists while they struggled to stabilise Mark’s condition, before he could be operated on.

Kirsten sat in the waiting room drinking coffee after she was given the all clear. She waited for a taxi to take her home to her flat so she could lie down and recover from this crazy ordeal. Before she went she asked the duty nurse behind the desk if she could see Mark, she explained what happened and that she was partly responsible for Mark being here in the first place. The nurse listened and nodded with stern eyes. If it was anyone else she would have refused but because it was Kirsten who showed such concern for her new friend, she waived the rule and Okayed it. She made a phone call and tapped away at a computer updating Kirsten’s records. Kirsten was waiting for directions to the ward where Mark was being checked out when she heard the nurse speak to the person on the phone who mentioned Mark was being moved from the ward to theatre! Kirsten knew what that meant! He was badly injured and needed an immediate operation or he would die. Kirsten struggled to keep a straight face and control her emotions while she listened in on the nurse who confirmed what ward he was on. Looking around Kirsten saw directions above her on the wall showing the way to the ward that was mentioned. She waited impatiently for the duty nurse to end her call, her decision was final. Would she see Mark?

The nurse spoke, “I’m afraid you can’t see your friend, his condition has deteriorated and he has been taken for surgery to be operated on, he’s allowed no visitors. I’m so very sorry.”                                                                                                                                                                                            

Kirsten didn’t even reply, she ran flat out through the double swing doors, knocking a nurse over and into the wall who was carrying a tray of medications. These flew everywhere, the tray and drugs clattered to the floor as the nurse shrieked in alarm and shouted, “Stop! Stop! No running this is a hospital. You’re not allowed down there. Stop!”                                                                              

It was no use, for tears streamed down Kirsten’s cheeks smudging her rose blusher, her eyes were red and her heart ached in pain, her mind thundered with the thoughts that her new love was going to die there and then and she was utterly powerless to do anything. That this was a fight she was going to lose, she was Kirsten and she never lost a fight in her life!  Never! I can’t lose my Mark, for I have already fallen in love with him. I have to be with him, I have to tell Mark I love him!

Footsteps echoed down the clinically clean corridor after the distraught girl who reached the doors to the operating theatre, where Mark was at this moment being prepped for his operation. She didn’t stop. She shoved the doors open and bolted through to reach Mark, interrupting the calm controlled but serious environment. Medical staff looked up in alarm at their new unannounced visitor who was closely followed by two flustered nurses. Kirsten grabbed Mark’s hand, feeling how clammy and limp his fingers and hand were. Almost weeping Kirsten shouted, “Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark,” over and over again ending with, “please don’t die, I love you! It’s my fault you’re here like this, I’m so very sorry! I love you Mark!”                                                                                                                                                                   

So very slowly Mark responded to Kirsten’s emotional pleading by opening his eyes, he struggled to focus on Kirsten. She saw him try to smile under the oxygen mask. A nurse tried to lead her out of the theatre; Kirsten struggled and broke free pushing a doctor out of the way. Bending over Mark she pulled the mask away and kissed him on his pale lips. Medical staff finally pulled the sobbing girl away as Mark said, “Kirsten I love you, I’ll see you again, soon my dear...”                                                                                                        

Electronic monitors showing Mark’s five vital signs suddenly flatlined to zero, beeping and lighting up like a Christmas tree. The nurses let go of Kirsten, they rushed to help revive Mark who stopped breathing again, dying a third and final time. Kirsten stood feeling very alone and silently cried as she watched the staff battle to save the critically injured man but it was too late. She was a witness to an event she never wanted to see, involving a man she had only met once but who had stolen her heart by the most tragic of circumstances. Death itself stole Mark, stealing his precious young life and condemning a young girl called Kirsten to a life time of torment. Each try to revive Mark failed. Kirsten fainted and fell to the floor. One of the nurses saw this and rushed to help while her colleagues lost their fight to save an innocent soul. They called Mark’s death at 19.42 hours on May 1^st 2012.                                                                                   

***

Many years later, a single girl called Kirsten had a tattoo done at a studio in Manchester, where the tattooist remembered a young soldier called Mark who was about to fly out to Iraq on his third tour of duty. Before he went, Mark had a tattoo design called “Man’s Ruin” on his upper left arm. In the tattoo design it featured a drinking glass with a bottle of whiskey, a pair of dice with a hand of cards, a cigarette with a Zippo lighter and most poignant of all, a beautiful young woman who looked just like Kirsten. How spooky was that last bit? The tattooist showed Kirsten a photo of Mark and of his new tattoo; he was a trained killer in the British Army yet looked so young and innocent.

When the young lady started to cry, the tattooist silently took the snaps out of the album and gave them as a gift to the distraught woman. He quietly he said, “So you’re the one. I read about what happened in the paper; it must be nine years ago. You’ve been to Iraq as well, it must have been tough. Mark used to talk about it now and again, when he was back on leave after his tours there. His first was the hardest, he told me. I’m so very sorry about it all, about your loss. Mark was a good bloke. I know he would have loved you like no other. Come into the studio; let me do your tattoo. Mark will always be with you, on that I’m sure. He’d want you to be happy.”                                                                                                                                          

Kirsten didn’t reply for some time, she just nodded. Fighting back her tears, she announced, “It was ten years ago today I lost Mark. One full decade ago today. In that time, I’ve never loved another man and never even been on a date. Something very strange happened that day to Mark and me. I can’t talk about it to anyone else, only you. You were his friend. I know you’ll understand. I miss him so much and will always love him, unconditionally. My life is a shrine to him. This tattoo is for Mark.”

“I understand, believe me Kirsten, I do. Your tattoo will be the best I’ve ever done and you don’t need to pay, there’s no way I can take a penny off you. Not after what has happened to you.” The tattooist, who was a strong man, was almost crying. He felt the same way at the girl did. It’s always the good ones who are taken.

A young soldier who served his country, dodging terrorist’s bullets and roadside bombs was indirectly killed by a beautiful girl. If only fate and life were different, how happy Mark and Kirsten would have been. Kirsten never thought she would have a tattoo done and avoided tattoo studios like the plague but she was fated to have one tattoo, only one and it said, “For My Mark, I’ll Always Love you”.