Do You Wanna Know How I Got These Scars Novels & Stories

" She... She re-opened dad's case? Why? Isn't she the one who told me that I should stop fighting against that invisible enemy of us? Why would she... Do this?" I stood up even if I feel like I would fall in any moment. I accidentally passed by a mirror and saw my scar. The memories that I buried six feet under the ground starts to flash like a flood. The screams in pain, the culprit's laugh, dad's cry in pain, our maids' shouts, and my cries. God, I need to stop this again. If this kept on flashing back, I'll lost myself again. And I don't want that to happen.

Today is going- not so great. I went about my day as usual- or rather as I remember. I pampered myself in the warm shower and stayed in there till the water lost its warmth. Standing in front of my full length mirror, I looked at my reflection I still couldn’t believe my eyes. I was simply shaken to the core as I stood in front of the mirror staring at my body. My hand flew to my mouth to prevent myself from crying out loud. I didn’t want to alarm my family. I was very disappointed in myself for not taking the time to notice the dark marks smearing parts of my body-the scars. There was a huge one on my back. It looked like my back was terribly burnt, maybe roasted over fire. It looked very

I moaned out while sparks and ecstasy danced through my entire body. He didn’t stop drinking from me until we both stopped convulsing. He then pulled away and healed my neck. I tried to stop him, but he did it anyway. It was the closest I would ever have to a mark from him, so I wanted the scars. I wanted people to know exactly who I belonged to.

At such a young age, he seemed to have a lot on his mind, and it was showing physically on him. As I massaged lower, I noticed a faint scar on his lower back. I frowned because Theo doesn’t have scars on his body. Despite his intense training, he usually doesn’t have scars, and if he does, they are usually not visible. But this one was visible, and for some reason, I was curious and couldn’t stop myself from asking. “This… scar… how did you get it…” I asked, my voice trembling with fear as I trailed my finger on the scar.

The scar. “Look,” I pointed to the place with a long mark on it. There was no need to see it to confirm it. I could feel its embedment into my pale skin. It was imprinted into my skin like a tattoo. “What is that?” Hannah gasped, running her hands silently over my scar. “My dad used a cane on me and struck my back so hard. It was painful.” “It looks very painful Stella," Hannah agreed sympathetically. And then she was angry.. “Why did he do this to you?”

Her soap like milk and wildflowers. Mine. Even blind, deaf, and scentless, I’d know this woman. When I reach her hips, I crouch down, soaping every inch of her. But I pause when I feel rough patches and jagged ridges on her skin. My fingers explore carefully, and my gut tightens with fury as I realise what they are. Scars. I trace one with my fingertip. “How did you come by these?”

The way he looked at me as though I had slipped through his fingers, though I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in his hands to begin with. Was that even a fight? I wasn’t sure. It hadn’t been shouting or doors slamming. Just silence. Silence with an edge sharp enough to cut through bone. I sat up with a sigh, swinging my legs off the bed. My scars prickled under the moonlight, old marks etched into my skin like someone else’s handwriting. I reached for the jar on the nightstand,the cream Malrik had left without a word weeks ago. Scar removal. Expensive. Rare. I rubbed it carefully over my arms, my collarbone, down to my legs. Slow circles, like erasing an old story.

Lance scrunched his brows and clasped my arm and brushed his fingers against my skin on some spots. "What are you doing?" I asked him in confusion. "Did you have these marks before? I am sure I didn't notice them." He commented while observing my skin and my gaze went to the spot he pointed and my eye widened in shock to see a scar. It was a scar for burns and I could still feel those burning sensations I had earlier. "That's not what… wait!!! I never had them before. I do have scars on my body because of my training but I never got burnt before." I started while still trying to figure out what had happened.

These scars had been with her for so long that she'd literally forgotten about their existence or cared about their existence, as if they were already part of her skin. Scars caused by cigarette butts and other hot burning metals. It hadn't occurred to her that Enzo would never see these scars and think she was born with them or something. Fuck, the scars didn't even come to mind. "I'm asking you something, Gypsy!" By now Enzo was breathing hard, his jaw ticking furiously. He shifted her breasts around to see more scars and shot to his feet, glaring down at her. "Who the fuck did these things to you, Gypsy? And don't fucking tell me that it's no one. Because unless you have some kind of self

he says proudly. “Maybe you can take a class,” I giggle. He smiles broadly, “I might just do that. So you really can’t think of anything?” I chew my lip and look down at my hands thinking when something comes to my mind. “Can you remove my scars?” I ask hopefully. “I don’t want to look at them and be reminded of how I got them,” I admit.