Novel & Cerita Scars

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.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

Michele's voice pulled me back to reality. "If she hadn't left all those years ago, the woman at my side would be a gambler. How could it be an angel like you? Tomorrow is our 99th day together, and I'm putting the most profitable strip club in Vallasia under your name." Michele looked at Barbara with complete indulgence and pinched her cheek playfully. Barbara laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him. A sudden, stabbing pain tore through my side, forcing a sharp gasp from me. It was the scar I had carried for five years, left behind when I sold a kidney just to stay alive after I failed to repay my loan.

Layla scrambled back in terror, but it was too late. My claws ripped her dress, revealing the pale skin of her back. It was smooth. Flawless. There was no scar. And Myrna... Myrna had a hideous scar running from her left shoulder to her right hip. The scar I had touched a thousand times, but never once asked where it came from. "Moon Goddess," I collapsed. "What have I done?" "You regret it now?" Layla sat on the floor, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "It's too late, Clark. It's far too late."

But it’s enough. I reach out to grab a spool of black thread, my eyes falling on the exposed skin beneath the tape. My hand stops dead in mid-air. It’s a scar. But it isn't an injury from the pool, and it isn't a surgical mark. It is a brand. The scarred, raised flesh is shaped into a perfectly distinct, moon shaped crestent with three jagged, interlocking peaks that look like a mountain range, surrounded by a thick, circular border. It looks like it was burned into her skin with hot iron.

It was very fun. Entering my tent, I sat on the folding bed, grabbing the ointment that Nora uses for my wounds. They are almost healed, and some are already beginning to turn into scars. Scarring is feared by many women in our world. They believe that a beautiful woman must have flawless skin and a small face. I only qualify at the latter. I don't even know if that's a good thing because I honestly think it only makes me look like a skull head. I unlaced the bathrobe that I was wearing to reveal the huge scar on my stomach. I gently put the ointment on important parts, making sure that I don't leave anything behind.

I watched, my eyes narrowing, as he held his arms out toward me. My breath hitched. His skin was ruined. From his wrists all the way up to his forearms, his flesh was covered in a frightening web of scars. There were deep, jagged lines, discolored patches, and dozens of circular puncture marks. They were injection scars, overlapping one another, telling a story of years of brutal, desperate experimentation.

Huh? She was officially confused. Dr. Kara made sense. She knew this, but she also knew that such coincidences could not possibly exist. It was already too coincidental that they shared a name. She knew that she didn't need to look up Livian Dumont. The search results would only make her feel worse. Instead, she sucked in a breath and looked at the middle-aged woman who was watching her words sink in. "How long does it take for a scar to completely heal?" Dr. Kara didn't look surprised. "The deepest scars don't usually heal completely. The skin on them might remain lighter in comparison to the surrounding skin even after decades. But then again, it depends on

She slowly and gently removes the bandages. Sadness makes its way to me when I see my legs. There are ugly and scary scars covering my legs. I shouldn’t have broken the mirror. I regret doing something so ridiculous. Now these scars will be with me forever. “Don’t be sad. They will fade in one or a half week if you apply this cream on them.” Bianca says noticing my sadness and giving me the ointment. I give her a smile. “Now lay down and raise your shirt up.” She speaks. I hesitantly start pulling the shirt up because Luciano is sitting beside me.

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.