Hello Everyone!
This is my first time posting my story and would love some feedback!
This is a very short story, just letting you guys know!
Thank-You Guys!
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She traced her finger round her left hand, once bloody and red, now pale and scarred. The cuts that had once soothed her, where now only the fossil remains of painful memories. It was small things that inspired her art. Her artwork was displayed across her own gallery; it had stirred tension between artists. Nobody understood her pain; or saw the look in her eye that was calling help that nobody saw. She stared misery in the eye, knowing she’d never defeat it; it had already won.
Her house wasn’t her home; her mother’s hands laid on her every day .The marks were hidden but the hurt showed through her smile. Her wall of protection was broken down by others; all that remains is rubble. Her hands taught her the wrong in life, the knife showed her the good; while the blood slowly drained from her arms .Her knife was her paintbrush, her body the canvas.
There she was, once laying on her bed. She had bottled up her thoughts and put them on the shelf; she had saved the best for last. Her paintbrush in one hand, a single drop of blood, a splash of colour decided her faith. Her body once beautiful with clear, silky skin now ruined by the thoughts of others.
YOU ARE READING
Beneath The Scars
Teen FictionThe pain that was only shown through her body this is the story "Beneath The Scars". "Her knife was her paintbrush, her body the canvas."
