12 Scars Novels & Stories

Zara burst into tears and covers her face. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s horrible. It hurts so much. Please. I need to be alone.” Ariadne tries to calm her but Zara continues to cry and seeing how traumatized and wrecked she was, everyone left her alone. Ari turn back to look at her to make sure that she was alright but she knew the scar inhabiting her physical and mental form would takes time to heal. At least if she wants some time to be alone, then why not.

I can't be bothered to go into the bathroom to change, so I just face the wall while I take my top off and pants, but I make my mistake early, I forgot about the permanent yellow bruising, the fresh red and purple coloured and old white scars, and the deep knife and bullet wounds covering my back and legs. I feel pairs of eyes searching my body, I turn around and find everyone staring at me. And me being me, I make a joke out of it, but they take it seriously. "Wanna know how I got these scars?" They look at me like I'm a lunatic, worry and concern lace their faces, "yeah, actually we do, they look really bad" Saffron says, obviously looking super worried.

I was Gavin Whitestone’s treasure for ten years. Then he abandoned me for another woman three times, and I finally saw the truth. I didn't love him anymore. I have three scars. Each one is named Gavin Whitestone. The first is just below my ribs, from a shootout two years ago. Sofia Bianchi ran out of a corner and took a bullet for Gavin. It hit her arm. Gavin sent every doctor in the city to her side, while I was left in a dark corner, pressing my hand to my stomach to keep myself from bleeding out from a piece of shrapnel.

Right after the words left Vanessa's mouth, Scott shoved her hard and snapped, "What nonsense are you talking about?" Caught off guard, Vanessa stumbled backward and scraped her arm against the edge of a cheap table, leaving a bloody gash. I panickedly lunged forward to catch her, but my hands passed straight through her body. I still wasn't used to being dead, even after two years. Jordan burst into loud, terrified wails, but no one came forward to comfort him. Both Scott and Devin were too busy fussing over Nicole.

I held her by the throat tighter as I remembered how I spent over five days in the infirmary because of her and her childish jealousy. "So... Sorry." She managed to say but I brought out my makeshift knife and I tore her with it in the stomach. "Ahhhhhh." She screamed but I carried her towel that was drap over her shoulder and I shoved it in her mouth to muffle her screams. I tore her again on both of her laps. The cuts I gave her are not deep enough to make her bleed to death but the are certainly deep enough to give her an everlasting scar... Whenever she sees the scars on her stomach and thighs, it's will be a reminder of her stupidity.

she said, glancing at me, “if you could heal someone that is close to death… maybe you can fix scars too.” The room quieted just a little. I followed her gaze and realized what she was talking about. My scar. The old burn mark that curved down from the corner of my jaw to my neck—a part of my past I had tried to hide but couldn’t erase. I instinctively reached up, fingers brushing the edge of it. I hated that thing. I hated what it reminded me of. Rachael tilted her head. “I’m just saying… wouldn’t it be kind of amazing if you could heal yourself too?”

My throat constricted with tears, my vision blurred. “And the scariest thing?” Ian’s voice cracked then. Barely audible. “He has self-harm scars. Old ones. Lots of them that I hadn't noticed the first time at the auction in my panic to get him out. He's got scars on his wrist, thighs, arms, stomach. Some deep. Some not. They’re everywhere. Amber… this wasn’t a one-time thing. He’s tried to end it. Multiple times.”

Still hers. She trailed her fingertips his arm, as the morning light danced over the bruises and healing wounds as if trying to make sense of the pain etched into his skin. Battle scars. Every one of them earned in the fight to get Sophie back. The war might have been over, but peace hadn't yet settled down in her heart. Grayson stirred beside her. "You ever going to stop watching me sleep like a serial killer?" She smiled faintly. "Probably not." He cracked one eye open. "Creepy and sexy. That's very on-brand for you."

“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. Something like that will always leave a lasting scar.” I smiled and turned around, moving my hair to the side. Showing him what I knew was a terrible scar. It ran from the bottom of my left hip all the way to under my right arm. My back flexed as I felt his fingers touch the scar and run all the way across my back. The sports bra I was wearing only covered a little part of it. “Sometimes even physically.” “How old are you?” Looking over my shoulder, his eyes were looking at my scar. “Thirty-eight.”

Pathetic bastard! I dropped to my knees beside Scar who was already on the floor, groaning in excruciating pain. He was bleeding—bad. Real bad. The bullets had gone clean through his lower abdomen, just below the ribcage. The kind of shot that shredded the liver. The kind you don’t survive. And I hated to admit that, I hated it so damn much. Scar was my right hand man, he was the second in command and now he was on the floor battling his life, all I could do was watch.