Painted Scars Novels & Stories

“Rue, do not make fun of me.” “I am not making fun of you,” I said. “I am reminding you that you are still handsome even when you look awkward.” Percy looked away. His fingers moved close to the scars on his arm. I reached for his hand before he could hide them. “Do not look at them like that,” I said. He became quiet. “They are not pleasant to look at.” “They are part of you,” I said. “Some came from old injuries. Some came from the blood pact backlash. Some came because you suffered too much alone. I hate that you were hurt, but I do not hate your scars.”

"This place is all girly and it nauseates me" I bursted into laughter at what he said, I just really like the fact that he manages to make me happy. He held my hand and took me out of the room taking me to his own room where I was before. We entered and he sat me on the bed, he walked towards his table and then came back holding a round white cream jar stuff. I stared at it. "Whats that?". "It can help you take away those marks on you and heal your scars". "Reece ..".

And I knew he did this to represent my emotional state that day. I frowned, leaning in to take a closer look at this image of me sitting at the beach under a grey sky with an angry sea that threatened to burst past its banks. “Are those?” I stared at the very faint lip marks he had painted over my body. “Kisses,” he said, leaning down with his hands on the table to stare into my eyes. “I wanted to undo the scars, since I failed to do so in reality. “Thank you, Leonardo,” I said, pushing my seat back to stand up. “But I’m afraid I cannot accept this.”

I looked at his retreating back wondering since when did he become so heartless. --------------------------------------------------- "Take these medicine for 1 week and the inflammation will be gone. But these marks will remain...." The doctor said looking sadly at me but I didn't cared. These scars were nothing compared to the scars on my soul. Andrea was still sitting with me talking to the doctor "I am really sorry ma'am" I said referring to the burn on her hand "It's alright they will heal but yours may not.....I will get you a special scars medicine ..it definitely works...don't worry they will vanish with time'

N O T E A scar is the mark of a story that, on the surface, is private. It is an implication of what lies beneath and within. Complete scar removal is not possible, but most scars will gradually fade over time. Scars are a natural part of the healing process. Most will fade although they never completely disappear. At times, emotions and memories are stored so well that they can’t be recalled on command. Alternately, the psyche veils itself with trauma that has left its mark and overcompensates to dissociate from trauma. The scar is a container and a

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 had grown into a breathtaking woman, more stunning than even he could have imagined her. And he had done just that. For years after he did what he did, he had kept away from her, while simultaneously fighting the urge to see her again. Curiosity was a painful thing to endure, and he kept wondering what she would look like now, and whether anything would change over the years. Time healed all wounds, and he had hoped that the scar he left on her would have healed by then. Wounds heal, but scars remain with us for life. "Look at you," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "You look even more beautiful than I remember."

No evidence of restraints tearing skin or of blunt force trauma. “These were not made with improvised tools,” Theo continued. “They were made with surgical instruments. Controlled incisions. Sterilized blades.” My stomach dropped. “And this,” he added, swiping to another image, “is the problem.” Highlighted areas glowed faintly on the scan. Fresh tissue. Minimal healing. “Some of these scars are less than a week old,” Theo said. “They were made after she claims to have escaped.” The corridor seemed to tilt slightly. “That is not possible,” I said automatically.

Her ribcage literally bounced without her knowledge making her clench her hand tightly around her back, she don't want to do something stupid. She has scars marring all over her once flawless body. One ran from her lower rib to her hipbone, it does not look like it would disappear anytime soon. There are little ones that are slowly fading away and the bruises are now dark purple which means they will disappear soon. None of the scars look permanent but it didn't stop her heart from tightening further in her chest. She swallowed again while looking away from the sight that will surely hunt her till forever. She's always loathed and abhorred scars, she hates them, she despise them from the bot

Yes I wasn't one of those morning people but I had to get the hell out of bed. And out of my room. I stripped in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection. I didn't look horrible but I didn't look good either. My scars— the scars were a light shade of pink now and they were itchy. I was told by a physician that it was because they were healing.