Under Your Scars Trigger Warnings Novels & Stories

I caught a glimpse of another scar this one smaller, almost circular, just beneath her collarbone. It looked like a burn. “You hide them,” I said before I could stop myself. Her hands stilled on the buckle. “Do I?” “You wear layers. You never…” I trailed off, realizing I was overstepping. She finished fastening the vest. “Scars tell stories. Some are worth hiding.” --- I crossed my arms. “And some aren’t?” A faint smile ghosted across her lips. “Some are warnings.” The room felt heavier now, the air thick with things unsaid. I thought about the hair she’d left on my pillow. About how she kept me here, in her wing, where she could see me. Maybe I was one of those warnings just in reverse.

I might not ever recover what little confidence I had left. I escape out the back door just as Tara ends her jazz routine, too embarrassed to stick around, then make my way briskly back to the room to jump in the shower before Tara shows up and sees me crying. I stand under the hot water for what feels like ages, eyes closed, rinsing away the day. As I wash suds over my body, my fingers go automatically to the scars on the inside of my thighs. Red, jagged, once deep scars that had carried the burden of stress, anxiety, and self-hate for me. I haven’t cut in nearly a year, but when my self-doubt kicks in, sometimes my fingers itch to open those wounds.

“No.” “Don’t lie to me. The last time you held it like that, you collapsed.” “It doesn’t hurt, I swear.” “Then why are you holding it?” “It’s….It’s nothing.” I didn’t want to tell him that the scar was a reminder of how weak I was. It was going to be a permanent reminder of my weakness. Bruises fade, smaller wounds heal, but this would be there forever. A constant reminder that even though the blood tie was broken, I was still mated to Beta Kyle. Yet even when he dies, it will still be there. A reminder of the horrible life I had.

Lauren gazed into the mirror as she peeled off her clothes, not wanting to miss a single sight of it. The once white bandages that had been wrapped on her back now had a hue of red. She sighed and even when she knew it would earn her scolding from Malcolm, she slowly peeled the bandage off her back closing her eyes at the gory sight that greeted her. Her eyes teared. She didn’t believe it was this bad. And Bryan had seen it too? It made her sob more. She didn’t want him to end up having trauma because of her. She was used to it after all.

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 checked up on Grey, he was still sleeping soundly, and went back inside my room. I removed my clothes, looking at my scars, they’ve faded but they’re still there, never letting me forget. I smeared my finger on the scar below my belly button. [“You want to escape?”] a memory when I was trying to leave, the deepest one right above my kidney, [“She doesn’t bleed from her vagina, let’s make her bleed from somewhere else.”] I smirked rubbing soap on it thinking it’ll fade, they won’t, I know it, I’m just being delusional.

" 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.

~RAINBOW I remembered the way I burned as the fire licked at my skin. I could still hear the echoes of my screams. I was never supposed to be there that night. I could have waited for the fire brigade to come. But I had to save him. I could not let him die. My wolf had even tried warning me to stay away but I was too worried and stubborn to listen. I had been determined not to lose anyone else that night. Yet there were consequences for saving the one I loved. I was rewarded with scars. . .

Memories of me being sexual assaulted by Alpha Lucas flooded my mind. “Kieran?” Xander’s voice reached my ears. “Are you okay?” “Yes, yes.” I huffed almost out of breath. I felt the air around me dry up immediately and I wanted nothing more than to get out of here. “But don't touch me.” “What? I don't understand…” he started to say, confusion clear in his tone. “Don't touch me!” I yelled, causing him to jump back immediately. Using that as an opportunity to escape, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, away from Alpha Xander and farther away from the memories of Alpha Lucas that refused to let me be.

I flung it aside. Gasps exploded around the hall. Underneath, I wore black underwear. A simple top and briefs that left most of my skin bare. Pale flesh. Hard lines of muscle. And scars. So many scars. White lash marks carved down my back and thighs, some raised, some twisted, crisscrossing like a twisted landscape. “What in the—” “By the Moon…” “Who did that to her?”