Novel & Cerita Numb Spot On Back Below Shoulder Blade

“You two haven’t seen them?” “No,” I said at the same time Mason asked “What marks?” She laughed. “I assumed you knew.” “Mother.” My voice sharpened. “What marks?” She placed the towels aside. “Upper back. Right below the neck.” She touched the spot on herself. “Each child has one.” She said I stared. “How have I not noticed?” “Because in the hospital nurses handled bathing. Then when we came here, I did. You were healing.” She replied She glanced at Mason. “And he was busy hovering.”

A vertical fold formed down the center of his back due to her pressure. His hand slid from the back of her neck to her shoulders. His fingers brushed along the edge of her collar, with his fingertips touching the skin just above her collarbone. The skin there was thinner than on the back of her neck. The collarbone formed a distinct ridge under the skin. His fingertips moved along that ridge from left to right, passing below her Adam’s apple and over the spot where her carotid artery pulsed. Her pulse beat once under his fingertips. Then another time. The rate was faster than that of her wrist.

The breath completely caught in my lungs. I’d seen him on the court plenty of times. I’d seen the flawless, cut muscles that the sports magazines obsessed over. But the candlelight didn't lie, and from this angle, without his jersey hiding it, the reality was devastating. Right across the center of his shoulder blades, cutting through the smooth skin, was a cluster of jagged, uneven lines. They weren't neat surgical incisions. They were rough. Twisted. Some were thick and raised, others faded to a sickening, pale silver.

I could imagine it would be like this lying on a large glass marble; perhaps at first it would be pleasant yet soon it would be just like this pain of mine. The ache is a dull, as if some lazy torturer is standing right behind me, only applying enough pressure to be an annoyance. It sits there, just to the side of the right shoulder blade toward the spine. I could imagine it would be like this lying on a large glass marble; perhaps at first it would be pleasant yet soon it would be just like this pain of mine.

​ "Look closely at the center of my back, right between the shoulder blades. Tell me if you see anything weird." ​ Elias stared, his brow furrowed. "Just scars, Em. Ronan’s burn mark is almost healed." ​ "No. The very center. A birthmark? A mole?" ​ He leaned in. "Wait. There is something. It's tiny, like a faded white scar, about the size of a dime. It's not a wound, Em. It looks… circular. Like a healed puncture wound, but not one Gareth would make." ​ It was then I felt it. The locket around my neck, which had been cold, suddenly felt icy. My skin, right above that spot between my shoulder blades, began to tingle, then burn with a deep, internal heat.

A skin rupturing scar from neck to the mid of his spine. The physician came back after some time along with the Grandma and she gasped as soon as her eyes landed on Nathan's back. "Nate my son what is this?" She said and Nathan seriously wanted to shout that he doesn’t know and he came here to know. Like duh. If did know, why would he be here. "I don't know grandma." "It keeps growing." Physician said. "Few days back it was just at the shoulder and now it's down to his spine."

Tying my hair in a ponytail, I headed to the bathroom to wash up but the moment I saw my reflection on the mirror, my feet were rooted on the floor, and my eyes were glued on the dark marks on my right shoulder blade. No, no, how could these marks be here? To get a closer look and to make sure that I was not imagining things, I stepped closer to the mirror. The black marks seemed to resemble tiny veins branching out. It seemed to have started behind my neck and it stopped right on the middle of my shoulder. Could it be poison from the scratch I got yesterday? But if it was poison, I should have at least felt something was wrong in my body but I felt completely normal.

I try to concentrate on my next set , but my brain keeps reminding me of his presence. “1….2…3…4…” I whisper a bit while doing my chest press, after the number four I begin counting in my head. As the reps in increased , I started losing breath so counting in my head was a better option. After my exhausting set , I rerack my barbel above me and just sleep in the position I am in. I feel my sports bra rid up , showing much more of my tummy than usual – for once , I just say fuck it in my head and just lay there like I am laying on my bed. After a few seconds , I get up from the laying position I am in because I got this weird burning sensation on my skin. This sensation started from my tummy

But now… it started aching, all of the sudden. I wondered if it was due to yesterday's adrenalin, that made me ignore any possible pain, and it was bad all along, or was it because I stretched too much just now and it reopened… I rushed to stand back to my bathroom mirror, grabbed a small mirror, that I used to do my make-up with, and checked how my back looked like, gazing at the reflection of my reflection. “Great! It's bleeding again!” I shouted upset after examination, “How the hell, should I patch a bleeding spot on my spine?!”

Standing a few feet away with his back turned to me, tall and still, framed by the light slanting in. And he’s shirtless. A bare back—broad, scarred, and… I draw in a sharp breath. Ink-like markings trail up from the base of his spine, dark and branching like twisted roots or veins of black lightning. They sprawl across the skin of his back in jagged, almost organic patterns, climbing toward his shoulder blades, disappearing beneath his arms. It isn’t paint, that’s for sure. He catches me staring. I can tell by the shift in his shoulders, by the faint turn of his head, that he sees me through the reflection in the mirror across the room.