Scars By I Am They Novels & Stories

i replied [Scars to your beautiful- Alessia cara] She just wants to be, beautiful She goes, unnoticed she knows, no limits She craves, attention she praises, an image She prays to be, sculpted by the sculptor Oh, she don't see, the light that's shining Deeper than the eyes can find it Maybe we have made her blind So she tries to cover up her pain And cut her woes away 'Cause covergirls don't cry After their face is made But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful We're stars and we're beautiful

Scars stared at the pillow in front of him. “Are you in pain?” she said. “Do you need something? Should I get a doctor?” “No, baby,” he said, and suddenly, it was Scars again, and she almost sagged in relief. “I’m not in pain.” “OK so…” She stroked his face. “You OK? All things considered?” “Well. I mean, I’m obviously devastated about the fresh scars ending my promising modelling career,” Scars said. “But I’ll get past it. Somehow.”

before the door opened and boy I am not expecting what I witnessed Scar is a girl with pixie cut black hair with brown eyes. She has a nose ring and she have tatoos all over her right arm. I know staring is rude but I can not help it. I did not expect that she will look like this. I smiled so wide I am sure she can see my wisdom tooth and shouted at the same time hug her. *weird side activated* "You are so awesome! Are you Scar? Oh my gosh! Does it hurt when you were inked? Can I have one too?!"

"Oh no I am hideous, all the scars I have, such a terrible sight." "Your scars are beautiful." "Even the one across my face?" Prince Mangus asked. "Especially the one across your face." They smiled faintly to each other. "Scars are reminders of not what you have been through but you have overcome so you are just a wonder of a sight." "Wow, you are so nice, I guess it really was just me bringing out the hostility in you," he said and they chuckled. "I did say that," she said and they chuckled on.

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

“Oh my god your covered in scars” “Yeah” I mumbled while looking at my feet “You poor thing, no wonder none of the guys are trying to get with you. Your damaged goods, I thought my boobs looked bad with the scars after my surgery, but you are covered in scars, and you don’t even have large boobs to make up for it”.

_Amelie’s POV_ I couldn’t look away. Even though I wanted to. Everyone thought my every being begged for me to peel my eyes away from his body and look elsewhere. My eyes were fixed on his body. The scars were horrific. They twisted across Matteo’s body, ugly, raw, permanent. Nothing was going to fix scars that looked like these. I wouldn't even wish this kind of thing on my worst enemy. And I knew exactly how they got there. I had caused them.

“I’m interested in your face... and everything below it.” She stiffened. “I gave you a choice. You made yours.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I couldn’t mask the tension in my voice. She didn’t respond, just stared at me with something unreadable in her expression. “She’s not like the others,” Blaze whispered in my mind. “Her energy... it’s wild, unbroken. Her scent is like nothing we’ve smelled before. Don’t treat her like the others. Don’t ruin this.” I clenched my jaw, struggling to rein myself in.

"Sorry, did I scare you? I promise, you'll never see scum like that around here again." To thank him, I accepted his invitation to an art exhibition at his private estate that weekend. On Saturday night, Dorian had a gift box delivered. Inside was a deep purple velvet gown. It was exquisitely tailored, with a high neck and long sleeves that perfectly concealed the old, fading scars on my body, while still accentuating my waist. I stroked the soft fabric, my eyes welling up. Gavin had traced my scars with sadness, but he was never this thoughtful. I never dared tell him how much they bothered me. It was a weakness the Godfather’s wife wasn't allowed to have.

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?"