30 Day Writing Prompts

10

10. Tell the story of a scar. Physical or emotional.

It was strange to be naked in front of someone. It had been years since I had even taken my shirt off in front of another person, never mind taken all of all of y clothes off. It's so normal to be naked in this society. We changed the older, stricter ways of the human body from what they thought was dirty and immoral, to self-love and embracing your own body. Nudity is so normal for us. But I had rarely been naked. Those ugly scars crossing my chest and stomach still haunted me, they're still here, even today. Fading slowly as I get older and bigger. One day, I hope they simply disappear. The scars made me feel awkward in front of people. They made me feel like a freak. Everyone wanted to see them. Why? Why is it that humans are so fascinated by the suffering of others? It's terrifying, really. I never understood why everyone was so eager to see something so ugly. Something that made me wretch every time I looked at myself in the mirror without a shirt on. Self-pity makes a person weak and vulnerable. Self-pity is sad, and rather embarrassing. I couldn't help it when it came to the topic of my scars, though. I was so broken by what happened that the reminder of it being those scars caused me to have breakdowns on the daily.

I had so much trust in her though. Head over heels in love, I let her see what no one else was allowed to. She never failed to amaze me. All her tiny little quirks that made her the most beautiful person to grace this earth. Every day when I woke up to her texts it stunned me. How could I manage to be with someone like her? I like to think of it as good karma. I dealt with that abuse for years until I was able to get out, and when I did, God graced me with an angel.

She was so irresistible, standing before me in nothing but her underwear. I loved her and she loved me. We still love each other now. An infinite love is all I ever wanted and I really have it. She kissed my lips softly, lingering for a moment before looking down at my chest and trailing her finger along one of the longer, wider scars. It made me shudder and cringe slightly, but she mumbled a soft 'it's okay,' before crouching slightly and kissing the scar. In that moment, I almost forgot the events in which I gained that scar. They had fell out of my memory, tumbling onto the floor where my clothes and her clothes were. I brushed her blonde hair at of her face, running my hands through the silky locks. So gorgeous.

Trading all of the scars with her fingers, I felt dizzy. Love made me so light-headed, how ridiculous is that? As she touched the scars and kissed them I began to forget. I forgot the beatings the girl before would give me. I forgot the knife as it slid across my skin, blood beginning to spot above the fresh-cut wounds. That was all kinds of pain, physically, emotionally, and mentally. It was the worst kind of pain because it was every kind of pain all at once. The hitting, kicking and punching. The knives slicing into my skin.. it was all mixed around with the humiliation and degradation, as well as isolation to top it all off. Life just didn't feel worth living until I got out. I ran, and ran, and ran. As fast as my legs could carry me. It was so weird to run, I hadn't ran when I was with the girl before because she wouldn't let me run. She barely even let me leave the apartment. Though, when I was free, it felt almost heavenly. I made the sprint to safety, my legs burning as my feet hit the hard ground. It was the worst thing I had ever experienced. Those months of being completely alone with no one I felt that I could go to for help. No one really believes you when you say your girlfriend of two years had started hitting you, started threatening suicide if you left, started degrading you constantly. No one believes that kind of thing when a man is the victim because people are so used to women constantly being the victims. It's not all black and white, though.

I met her soon after. I think I fell in love straight away. And somehow I knew. Somehow I knew that she would be the one to make me forget the stories of those scars.

An angel. That's what she was, and still is. My guardian angel.