short stories

Scars

Prompt: emotional hurt now leaves physical scars.

A young girl sits in the corner of a room, hugging her knees to her chest. Fright shakes her body, trembling it from head to toe. Even her teeth chatter together loudly.

I check her report one last time; six years old, both parents dead. Such a sad case. I'm glad I'm here for her. A small scar forms on my stomach from empathy and I draw a sharp breath in.

"Hi sweetheart." I approach her slowly, trying to soothe her with a slow and melancholy voice.

She pulls her knees closer to her chest and hunches in fright.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I'm here to help."

She shakes her head violently and whimpers, "no. No. Go away. I want my mama."

"I know you do sweetheart." Another pang of guilt hits me and as I feel another scar form on my chest. I try not to scare her by keeping as quite as I can about the pain.

I sit next to her, but not too close, "You're name is Vanessa, right?" I smile sadly at her.

She nodded, "how did you know?"

"I've been assigned to find you a forever family. I'm Catie. It's nice to meet you."

"A forever family? But I have a family. Where's my mama and papa?" She raised her voice defensively, though we both knew the cold reality of the situation.

"They're not here anymore. But another family will love you just as much if you let them."

"But I don't want another family? I want my family!" She balled her fists up and rage filled tears leaked into her eyes.

"I know this is hard for you, " I reached out and put my hand over her scarred one, "but you have to trust me. I know what it's like to lose your parents. It's really scary. But you'll find a family that will love and care for you just as much. I lost my parents when I was young too. That's why I'm here. I want to help other people who went through the same thing. I'm scarred, just like you. I know what it's like to hurt."

She nodded, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you lost your parents too."

"It's alright. See?" I rolled up my sleeves to reveal arms covered in welts and scratches and bruises; scars of all sorts, "we're all scarred."

"Your face." She said, moving from her cowered position on to her knees and placing a tiny hand on my cheek, "you have a lot of scars. More than any I've seen."

"I've been through a lot. I'm much older than you, nearly twenty-nine now. I've suffered many broken bones and damage to my organs as well. This is just what you can see now."

"Do they ever heal?"

"Some do. Mine don't, they never have."

"Will mine?"

"If you want them to and you let them. I don't mind mine, they just remind me of everything I've been through. No matter what, even if your scars do go away, they'll always be a part of you."

She traced her small, chubby fingers over each of the scars that adorned my face. Cheekbone; breakup. Cheek; cases of other children like her, chin; my best friend cutting me out of her life. At least the worst ones weren't on my face; they hurt the most to the touch.

"Will you tell me what they all mean?"

"We'd be here for quite some time."

"I have time." She said.