Painted Scars Novels & Stories

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.

"Oh darling , when you say you see your scars in the mirror when you stare. I say, I see a warrior who fought her battles without fear. When you trace your skin and say it won't repair. I say a scarred tissue is stronger than a normal one without tear. And finally when you smile, to say you are are not like those beautiful girls anywhere. I smile to say my Scarred Beauty could never be compared." - suzangill ... Wear your battle scars, not as a flaw but an ornament. And see them shine even brighter than gold and diamonds. Mold your weaknesses into your strength, To become the best version of the scarred beauty of yourself.

Even a flicker of complicated emotion flashed in Scott's eyes. Were they worried about me? I shook my head and immediately dismissed the thought. The first time they forced me to give Nicole blood, they had reacted the same way when they saw how pale my lips were, but they eventually got used to it. Whenever I resisted and refused to donate, Scott would say, "It's just a little blood, and you'll recover after a bowl of chicken soup. Stop being so dramatic." When I went to Devin and showed him my bruised arms from the frequent blood draws, he simply said, "Bruises fade in a few days. You've been doing this for a year now, so how are you still not used to it?"

Circular, linear, triangular scars of all shapes and sizes marred his skin, fierce and haunting. Patricia recoiled in horror, her hands trembling as she pushed his clothes back into place. Indeed, there wasn't an untouched spot on his skin. All were scars of varying sizes. What kind of cruelty leaves marks that never fade? Manda had beaten her too, but she had never been left with a single scar. Patricia covered her mouth with her hand, tears falling one by one, too heartbroken to speak. Hunter quickly grabbed his coat from the chair and put it on.

“Where?” “lake Riva.” “Why?” she whispered. “You already have a picture.” “Because I want you to make me something. And the only thing beautiful enough to hang on my wall is you.” I grabbed the sheet and pulled it away, so I could see her flat tummy. She had a cute belly button and flawless skin. Her only imperfection was the scar on her arm where she’d been struck by a bullet. We had the same scar. I just had it in more places. She continued to watch me with hesitance in her eyes. “I’ve never painted myself before. It’ll be weird.”

How the hell am I to manage with the two of them? I looked over at Scarlett, she was enjoying herself, stroking the white piece gently with paint. “Mom, you can help me paint the background black.” She stretched her brush to me. I raised my brows because Scarlett doesn't use black paint. She hated it. Yet, I joined her. “What are you painting?” I asked. The painting was dark. It had no vibrant color and I couldn't make out what she was painting. “I see this when I sleep,” she said.

“I'm sorry for not protecting you then,I'm sorry but no one would hurt you again,I swear on my word,and those who hurt you I'll find them and end them” He promised his gaze holding hers seriously. “And your scars they give you a sexy do not mess with me look” He added , tracing a thumb over her chin, tracing the scar. He placed a kiss on her forehead,then her nose, cheeks, before slowly kissing the scar. “What are you doing” She asked breathlessly. “Kissing your scars ,I'm gonna kiss them till they fade from your memories” He kissed the scar on her eyebrow,her breath hitched as his hands moved over her breasts rubbing it slowly through the light night wear.

This man almost doubled his muscle mass. His dark brown hair had subtle streaks of red throughout. His eyes were green with hints of gold. They were the most amazing things I had ever seen. Looking at him made my heart pound. His eyes were focused on mine as he held my gaze. The scar on the left side of his neck was faded, the sight of it enraged me. I didn’t know why I was so upset about him being hurt. I felt myself begin to get lost in his eyes when my mind snapped me out of it.

These kinds of burns would usually heal without scars, but as they became repetitive, her scar tissues became thick and noticeable on her skin. Damien did not react surprised when she pulled her sleeves, and her scars showed. He casually checked on their sizes, and as he stared at them, his eyes also moved to the designs he had on the frames hanging on the wall. He was purely and genuinely focused on what design would be good considering the distances and sizes of her scars. "Do you have any designs in mind you want to get painted in here?" Damien looked up to ask her face to face after gazing back and forth her arm and to the wall. But before Flora could answer, Damien moved away.

he responds. “I have been thinking about getting a tattoo…” James’s eyes widen in surprise, and I can see he never pegged me as someone who would like ink. “But I have some scars and I don’t know if you can tattoo over them.” “I guess it depends on the scars,” James says, and I can tell he wants to ask me more. I take a breath and walk across to him, pulling up the sleeves of my top as I approach. I hold out my wrists, and you can easily see where I cut myself, the line running up my arms instead of across. The scars are no longer the livid red weals that drew looks of horror but instead have faded to a rosy pink. I know it will be years before they fade properly, but for now, I would like s