Scared Vs Scarred Novels & Stories

It was old, but the pain it must have caused was evident. "It must have hurt," I murmured, my fingers tracing the raised edges of the scar. His body tensed, a flicker of fear in his eyes. I just felt like I could connect with him so much after seeing this. His scar was physical, but my own scars, though invisible, ran just as deep. I bent my head, pressing a soft kiss against the scarred flesh, a silent apology for the pain he had endured.

She still remember all I said. “ No, Scarlet. Those were not actually the reason, I said that to hurt you so you would forget about me being your mate.” I explain, she stare at me in a awful way, as though she is getting hurt as she recall my words to her. “ I’m scared of words. They could shatter the entire world of a person.” she is right, words can be beautiful and yet so dangerous. “ Did they hurt you?” I ask her carefully, ashamed of myself as I gape at her pale face.

I SURVIVED Don't ever be ashamed of the scars life has left you with. A scars mean a hurt is over and the wound is close. It means you conquered the pain , learned a lesson, grew stronger and move forward. A scar is a tattoo of triumph to be proud of . Don't allow your scars to hold you hostage. Don't allow them to make you live your life in fear. You can't make scars in your life disappear , but you can change the way you see them. You can start seeing your scars as a. Sign of strength and not of pain. ---

Spotless and simply perfect. Envy invariably brewed within me at the thought of how the rest of her body would be just as perfect, in contrast to mine, filled with scars. "Why are you such a scaredy cat?" Scarlett asked, slight frustration vivid in her voice. "It makes people want to bully you more," She added, and I gulped down the saliva, gathering in my mouth, having no response. "Do not tell me she is blaming you?" Moon, my wolf queried, as it awoke. I ignored her and kept my lips sealed.

I couldn't even see a soul around and the rain was continuously pouring down. "The Scars are on the haunt." She said and I sighed. "So, what's new about it? I don't understand why people are so scared of them. They never really harmed anyone." I said and she let out a frustrated sigh. "They are behind someone." She said,

Only the ring of hammer on steel. Her claws ached beneath her skin, begging to break through. Later, as the sun tipped toward noon, Sabrina followed Raven to the far side of camp and her blond pigtails bounced with her steps, but her expression was pinched with worry. “They’re just… scared,” Sabrina said, biting her lip. “That’s all this is, as fear makes people stupid.” Raven dropped her weight heavily onto a stone slab, arms crossed. “Scared people don’t whisper like that, scared people don’t stop looking you in the eye and also scared people don't grab their knives when you pass.”

she reveals. "I know, and it's okay. It's okay to be scared because fear keeps us alive. It's our only intelligent emotion," I murmur, shifting my body, so I sit beside her against the cold concrete wall. "I sometimes wonder why we need to have scars to see differently-… why can't we just learn, without feeling broken? You see, those scars are battle wounds. It means we go out and learn new things. It's impossible to learn without failing, but you grow stronger in exchange. Mentally and physically. You're going to fight every day, with yourself, creatures, the Gods. You're going to kill Father with your own hands and meet our Wolf-father. He's going to look deep into your eyes – that you sha

Her hand slid up to his jaw, thumb brushing the faint scar near his cheek. “Does it still hurt?” she asked softly. “Only when I remember why I got it.” “And why did you?” He hesitated a second. “Because I thought pain made me stronger.” She leaned closer, kissing the scar gently. “You were wrong.” His arm tightened slightly around her. “I know.” A comfortable silence settled again. Then she whispered, “I’m scared sometimes.” His eyes sharpened immediately. “Of what?” “Not of Selene. Not of the business.” She exhaled softly. “Of losing this.”

I say quietly, “do you feel afraid?” She considers the question carefully. Then shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I feel… wary. But not scared.” That matters. Fear would mean threat. Wary means awareness. “Good,” I say. She looks up at me, brows knitting. “Good?” “Yes.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Because fear would mean something is wrong. This doesn’t feel wrong.” Her breath stutters slightly. “That scares me more,” she admits. I nod. “It should. New things always do.”

"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."