Scars By I Am They Novels & Stories

She walked a little further, accompanied as usual by the ever fresh breeze, endless scattered leaves, and the tiny pebbles begging to be kicked around. She found herself in a nearby park. The screams and squeals of happy people messing with her headphones. She and June had been there once. They both got their faces painted over and over again and ended up looking like a character from the walking dead. Elena smiled at the memory as it quickly vanished as she almost jumped. She pulled off my headphones turning to see who tapped her. She turned to see Daniel looking as handsome as ever. "Oh Daniel," she panted. "You scared me."

Today is going- not so great. I went about my day as usual- or rather as I remember. I pampered myself in the warm shower and stayed in there till the water lost its warmth. Standing in front of my full length mirror, I looked at my reflection I still couldn’t believe my eyes. I was simply shaken to the core as I stood in front of the mirror staring at my body. My hand flew to my mouth to prevent myself from crying out loud. I didn’t want to alarm my family. I was very disappointed in myself for not taking the time to notice the dark marks smearing parts of my body-the scars. There was a huge one on my back. It looked like my back was terribly burnt, maybe roasted over fire. It looked very

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.

, I came out of my car and I wasn’t surprised when Scarlett came out wearing a long face. “You bitch!” She said as she walked towards me. “Can we do this later, I got work. Thank you” I said dryly and made to enter my car but she was fast to touch me by my hand. I quickly removed her hand from my body like it was a plague and looked at her angrily. “Never in your life, I repeat, never touch me with that hand you uses to give my dad a hand job” Scarlett looked pretty embarrassed as I said that but she was quick to cover it up with a scoff.

I might have nothing but I will still stand like a pillar. I still don't understand one thing. Why couldn't he kill me that day? He said something is holding him back. Is that even possible? A tattoo on the leader's chest. I don't have tattoos. I have scars. Tears blurred my eyes as I put my hand on my chest. My scars define how strong I am. They might not allure anyone. I might be ugly in the world's eye but I know how these scars have made me strong. If they are powerful so do I am.

“Not just good – amazing.” “One hundred percent amazing,” Jo said solemnly. “Thought so.” Scars held out a huge hand and she took it, felt the raised skin there. Without even looking, Jo knew that he had more scars on his hands and briefly wondered what he must look like under his jeans and blue t-shirt and cut: she’d heard from Jinx that the fire had burned Scars so badly, he’d needed reconstructive skin grafting on his back and legs. “It’s a pleasure, Jo.”

I said. Avim was a man who hid behind a mask of anger, just like Artemy. But deep inside, they all cared. I brought my hand up and placed it on his cheek, right over the scar. He flinched but didn’t move away. “You hide behind your scars. You use them as a barrier, thinking that they would keep people away. It worked, didn’t it?” “Rebecca,” he said, his voice filled with pain. “You think they’re ugly. You think they represent a weakness. But they don’t. Your scars represent your strength,” I said, Lynda’s words rolled off my tongue. I hoped that they would have the same effect on Avim as they had on me.

Her gasp echoed through the silence of the room as she beheld the gruesome scars etched across her chest, disappearing beneath the shadows of her nightgown. Amani's trembling hands moved instinctively, hastily discarding the nightgown to reveal her scar-ridden body in all its disfigured glory. She stood there, vulnerable and exposed, as she stared at her own reflection in horror. Her chest and torso bore a multitude of intersecting scars, a painful reminder of the brutal attack she had endured.

I was caught in a strange kind of madness, unable to escape. “Your scar is a sign of your past, just like mine,” he whispered. “But it's not a sign of weakness. It's a reminder of what you've been through, and how you've come out stronger on the other side. Never be ashamed of your scars - they make you who you are.” Finally, he brought his face to mine and I could see the dark, intense passion that flickered across them as he stared at me.

“Relax. She’s not worth the energy. I’m just happy you’re back, Mira.” Mira blinked, her expression softening for the first time. “You missed me?” “Like hell I did,” Scarlet said sarcastically, but her tone cracked. “The room was too damn quiet without you.” Mira chuckled ... that wicked, carefree sound Scarlet had missed so much. But then something strange happened. The bruises that painted Mira’s skin ... the ones that looked deep, fresh, painful ... began to fade. One by one, the angry welts melted away, leaving her skin smooth and flawless.