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My scar.I look into the mirror every day with my good eye and see its red fat spongy disformity. It starts above my left eyebrow and goes diagonally down my left eye, down a bit on my nose, and diagonally down my lips.

People don't even notice my other eye. My green mysterious eye that my grandmother loved to look into.

"Serenity! We have to show you soon! I need you to take a shower!" The scientist said, otherwise known as my father. He is not my dad. My dad was caring and kind, at least I think he was. The scientist, my creator, told me that my dad helped design me. Small and fragile, like a girl should be.

I am not a girl. I have the parts of a girl, but I am made of many people. My arms are not my arms, my face is not my face, the only parts that are really me are my eye and heart.
My other eye was my dad's eye, that the scientist took out and keeps in a jar so my dad can watch over him.

I numbly pulled off my hospital gown and walked into the green water that was like hand sanitizer. It kills everything, except for me.

As I wash I touch my other scars. They are smaller, more like stitches. Full and dominant. The one on my neck, connecting my head to my body. The one on my arms, connecting them to my shoulders. The ones on my wrists, connecting my hands to my arms. And the ones at the base of all my fingers, connecting them to my hands. One across my belly, connecting my torso to my legs. The stitch on my right thigh, connecting my leg to my lower body. The ones around my ankles, connecting my feet to my legs.

I step out of the sanitizing water, and see a new hospital gown laying in my creator's hands. I gingerly took it and pulled it on, turning around so the creator can tie it. His nimble hands moved down my back, and grazed my butt. I took a deep breath and turned to face him. He was beaming.

We walked out of the bathroom and into the showing room. There was glass for people to look into. I was to sit on the chair and move as the creator said. I sat, my butt hitting the cold metal chair. I kept my gaze straight ahead as he pulled off the gown again and showed people my different colored skin, and my stitches.

"Good job Serenity," My creator said after the showing. He kissed my lips and used his tongue to trace my scar, "I love you."

"I love you too Dad." I said, kissing him back.

Serenity's Love | ✔️Where stories live. Discover now