Scars

I watched as she scanned her legs with hunched brows, seeming to study every inch and pore, caressing one and then the other, ignoring me and the ocean before us.

“Are you looking for something there?” I stopped mid-chuckle when she met my eyes and I saw the seriousness in hers.

“I had stripes, diagonal lines, about a dozen of them, right…here, I think?” and with her left forefinger she drew on her right shin. “I can’t believe I’ve lost them. I’m not even a hundred percent sure now that it was on this leg.”

She continued to tell me how she got those now-begone scars: She was eight, she tripped while running and her shin rammed against the pavement, scraping the skin in such as manner that she ended up with a dozen stripes.

“The worst part was when I got home. Did I mention I was playing with my childhood crush? Oh my goodness. I was with this boy, this neighbor that I really liked, and he accompanied me home after that mishap. And, good heavens, he had to watch as my mom, who had no mercy on me, treated my leg with alcohol, and I bawled like a cow being electrocuted!”

“Oh, poor thing!” I exclaimed, though we were both laughing then. I was trying to form a picture of the weeping eight-year-old version of her in my head.

“I liked those scars, you know?” she said. “Looking at them always reminded me of that story, brought me back to happy days. I mean, that moment was actually terrible, but those days, that summer, I remember quite well how I was just…happy. I mean, to be a child, you know what I mean, right? Wouldn’t you give anything to go back in time?”

“Nah, I didn’t have you back then.”

“Aww.” She rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound, and I knew that was as far as I could go. That is, until the next opportunity comes.

 


A possible snippet for my WIP 🙂

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