Hidden Scars Novels & Stories

Jack, Jace and Erick are a grade ahead of me, Stace and Kate Recess It was recess and I was heading to the school dance hall for practice with Jack when i saw a sight that really didn't shock me Jasper and Tara were making out real hot I smiled and brought my phone out taking several photos of them making sure Jasper's face was visible. I was in a hidden place so they didn't see me I smiled staring at the pictures I took 💭this would be a great proof for mom💭 I thought happily before continuing my journey to the dance hall I got to the dance hall and walked in to see Jack doing some warm up

she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I reached for the hem of her sweater. Slowly, with a gentleness that belied my anxiety, I lifted it, revealing the expanse of her back. It was a tapestry of torment, a brutal testament to pain she had endured. Unhealed scars crisscrossed her skin in a chaotic pattern, like a road map drawn by a hand driven by cruelty. They were no longer the angry red of fresh wounds, but had faded to a lighter shade, standing in stark contrast to her otherwise unblemished skin. The violent pattern they formed was chaotic, as if the whip had danced across her back with a reckless disregard for the pain it inflicted.

I couldn't face how I looked now, with that weary and pale look in my skin, with my eyes looking like I had seen a ghost and the new scars I had to compliment my old ones. I looked at myself as I pulled my bra and underwear on, and I finally had finished pulling the sweatpants up. I looked at my back, watching myself stir in the reflection. The wounds that the shards of glass had caused didn't disappear, instead they left shallow skin, little pieces left scabs. I had thought it would go away, that I wouldn't have a constant reminder to remember this by, like I had with Daniel. But it was as if I had seen a ghost, they were the same, just as evil.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

Sienna adjusted the collar of her blouse as she stood in front of the small group of women seated in folding chairs. A banner hung behind her, the freshly printed letters reading: Lucia Foundation – Hope Beyond the Shadows. Natalia stood off to the side, clipboard in hand, giving her an encouraging nod. “You’ve got this,” Natalia whispered. Sienna smiled, then took a breath and stepped forward. “Thank you all for coming today. I know how hard it can be to walk into a room like this. I’ve been where you are. Caught in a world that told me silence was survival.”

Kieran's POV Even after Xander had walked away, I just couldn't bring myself to move from the spot I was rooted to. The wind was blowing even more harshly and I was freezing, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Goosebumps trailed the surface of my skin, and no matter how hard I rubbed against my arm, it did nothing to shake away the cold. Perhaps it was just the shock. The fact that despite how hard I thought I hid, Xander still found me. I would be lying if I said the thought of our paths crossing again didn't flicker in and out of my mind.

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

"What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens." "I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it." My old scars burned as I recalled it. Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker. The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares. Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence. Paris:- Hailey had just finished changing into her clothes after a shower and was now staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her gaze was drawn to the scars on her body: the long one on her stomach, the faded mark on her collarbone, and the fresh wound on her neck. Her shirt slipped from her hands as she examined each scar, her thoughts swirling with the weight of her past experiences.

Alive. "Can I see?" she asked softly. "See what?" "Your scars. From the blast." I hesitated for a long moment. Then I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. The scars weren't dramatic. Just small marks scattered across my ribs and shoulder—shrapnel wounds that had healed into pale, puckered lines. Nothing like the ones inside my head. Chloe's fingers traced over them slowly, gently. Her touch was feather-light, almost reverent.