Novel & Cerita Quotes About Emotional Scars

“Trapped inside myself, like I’m in a cage I can’t open. Afraid to let anyone in, scared that if I do, I’ll just end up broken again.” Ryan’s hand moved slowly, deliberately, until his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. His touch was light, tender — full of unspoken promises. “We all carry scars,” he said softly. “Every single one of us has been hurt. But those scars don’t have to be the end of the story. They don’t mean you’re broken beyond repair. Healing doesn’t erase the past — it just means you’re choosing to keep going, to believe there’s something better waiting for you.”

" 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.

Fear and anxiety was written all over her face. "Please don't" her eyes were moist when she stopped me. But I didn't pay a hay to her protest. "You just have to trust me" I only told her this before kissing every inch of her scar. Starting from the above, I laid open mouthed kisses along the length of the scar as she started sobbing silently. Her hands were clenching the sheets as if she was in pain. "You need to love yourself Camellia, your scars are beautiful just like you are. Instead they are the ones which make you pretty. There is no beauty in perfection." I said against her warm skin and her drenched face smiled at me.

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.

"Hell no! You aren't doing this. You are not going to sacrifice your happiness for your selfish twin."Maddie said, pointing an accusing finger my way. "You don't get to decide for me Maddie and don't you call my sister selfish. I know Emily has her reasons" I said that so unsure. Maddie only shook her head at the verge of tears. I felt terrible for lashing out on her. She isn't at fault nobody is at fault.

So I was going to die with all those beautiful memories that he gave me. I may not have physical scars like other people but I had scars that had marred my heart, so deep and traumatizing. Or the ones that run in my veins, every pump burning so hot as if it were a lava running in them instead of blood. Or the ones that have crowded my mind for years and refused to let me think better about myself, every thought, demanding and suffocating, deeply depressing. So yeah, my scars were way worse than those that meet the eyes on a skin, because while they can see it and feel it, I could only feel it.

Then when I was done, I simply said, “I hate looking at my scars and I don’t want anyone else to see them either. So, I stay covered.” Mel swam up to me. “You know what I think, Iva?” “That I’m pathetic?” She looked at me like I was crazy. “No. I think you are still letting your family control you. All of us have scars in some fashion or another. They are not who you are though. Plus, it shows how strong you are. You survived some serious and heavy shit. I’d wear those scars with pride. Not hide them away.” Sable came into the pool. She showed me her several scars. “This one here…this one is the most important one. Jaxon gave me this one. It’s how we met.”

“People keep avoiding me because of this scar on my face and men won't stop rejecting me because of it too. Isn't it enough reason to get worked up, huh?” “I have told you countless times not to concern yourself with what people say or do because of the scar on your face.” she said, taking my hand in hers. “We are humans, and it's in our nature to speak. So, people will always make ugly comments about the scar on your face.” “You keep saying that.” I said, my eyes burning with tears. “However, you have no idea how I feel. No matter how much I try to explain it to you, there's no way you'll understand how it feels to have this scar on my face. It's killing me.”

“You got that from him. The fire. The refusal to settle.” I leaned forward. “Do you ever think about him?” “Every day,” she said quietly. “But thinking doesn’t mean I’m stuck. It just means… some people leave a mark you can’t wash off.” I studied her face, the wistfulness in her tone. “Is that what love is supposed to be? A scar?” “No,” she said softly. “It’s supposed to be the reason you learn to live with scars.” The words sank into me, deeper than I wanted them to.

He held her hands, folding them with his, whispering, “If you keep being sweet, I’ll never let you go. Ever.” She hugged him tighter. “I didn’t mean to, but I saw your back. Those scars, it must have hurt so much.” Isis chuckled coldly. “Ugly, isn’t it?” “No…” she shook her head. “You don’t mind?” “I don’t.” She wanted to erase the pain from his voice, so she shared a hidden truth. “I have scars too. They’re not ugly. To me, they’re bravery. We’re both brave to survive being scarred.”