12 Scars Novels & Stories

I watched, my eyes narrowing, as he held his arms out toward me. My breath hitched. His skin was ruined. From his wrists all the way up to his forearms, his flesh was covered in a frightening web of scars. There were deep, jagged lines, discolored patches, and dozens of circular puncture marks. They were injection scars, overlapping one another, telling a story of years of brutal, desperate experimentation.

Like I have two dimples when I smile while Emily has two but one is not that deep. I have a small birthmark just above my navel, which Emily doesn't have. When I went out two days ago to meet up with Maddie at Starbucks, people were congratulating me on my wedding. I was too embarrassed to say I'm not the one getting married but my twin. Nobody will believe me, anyway. So I thanked them and smiled politely at them. At the mall, when we went shopping for wedding gifts, someone congratulated me, and I told him I wasn't the one he never believed me.

She takes care of everyone in her life and puts herself dead last. When I’m done washing her I have her stand up and help her out of the tub. I grab the towel I had on the counter and begin to dry her off. When I get to her back I feel and see her stiffen. That is when I see the scars Brick was talking about. When we had sex the first time I never saw her back and when I was washing Speed I was busy talking to her to pay attention. But now I see them. Pale marks against her beautiful tanned skin. All different lengths and widths all over her back down to her perfect ass and even a few at the tops of her thighs. As I dry her I start to count them. When I get to ten I have to stop or I am goin

The doctor leaves and Vivian couldn't help, throw aside the comforter and rush towards a mirror in the corner. The throbbing in her head, no longer bothering her. As a new fear has shaken her insides. Her eyes widen as she stared at herself. Her fingers trembling as they traced her reflection in the mirror. The scar It was looking like new, raw and visible without any veils of foundation. She couldn't stop the tears, that leave her eyes. Closing them, she couldn't hide it any longer now.

he touched all the scars he could see on her body. He untied the knot on her bathrobe and slipped it off her shoulders. For the first time, she wasn’t afraid to show her body — the scars of her past. It was ridiculous on how many scars on a body could hold. She had claw scars, long straight line surgery-incision kind of scars, burnt scars, and even bullet wound scars. Each was speaking volume of her past. He wanted to see all the scars that her body carried. He wanted to remember each one. He wanted to tell himself that everything about her was worth every battle. Nothing about her scared him. Not even her demon wolf.

The scar is a container and a protective space where the memory can be stored and endured privately. The causes of scars remain in storage in the body and the mind, and sometimes can shape actions for a person’s entire life. That's what Beneath The Scars is going to talk about . It's going to talk about how to never give up without a fight. W A R N I N G The book contains scenes of self-harm, mentions of abuse and suicide, themes of grief and depression, and sexual content towards the first half of the book . Readers are requested to proceed with caution. Please skip if you see any scene that you may find triggering.

Then—screech. A shrill noise of skidding tires. I turned my head. An unkempt black SUV surged backward from its position, shaking like a beast in chaotic fury. The driver's head sagged agonizingly against the rolled-down window, a half-empty bottle glimmering in his impotent hand. I could feel my blood freeze. He is drunk. The headlights lit my way as they appraised me; the SUV roared backward, too fast, too close. I was frozen to the spot, fear cementing my feet to the ground.

I will turn the tables on you in a way you will not even imagine. I continue washing off the blood from my wounds. On the list, the one on the lip is not bad. It's just a small cut that will heal in three days or so. The one on the forehead, well, that will take about two weeks to heal, and the scars will probably remain there forever given that there will be no doctor to attend to me. But no worries. These scars will always remind me of the big sacrifice I had to make for my loved ones. Someday, I will look at them and feel no more pain but joy after attaining victory over this monster.

I'm really happy that you're defending me, Estie. The sound of glass shattering broke through the moment. Tristan had crushed his wine glass, and blood was dripping from his hand. "I'm hurt, Esther." "You should go to the hospital," I replied coldly. "Come with me." He looked at me with pleading eyes. "You hurt your hand, not your legs. You can walk. All I can do is call an ambulance for you." Upon hearing that, he forced a bitter smile. "You really don't love me anymore. If you're willing to turn around, we can get married right away. Give me one more chance, Esther.

Michele's voice pulled me back to reality. "If she hadn't left all those years ago, the woman at my side would be a gambler. How could it be an angel like you? Tomorrow is our 99th day together, and I'm putting the most profitable strip club in Vallasia under your name." Michele looked at Barbara with complete indulgence and pinched her cheek playfully. Barbara laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him. A sudden, stabbing pain tore through my side, forcing a sharp gasp from me. It was the scar I had carried for five years, left behind when I sold a kidney just to stay alive after I failed to repay my loan.