Scar 

Story-telling Contest winner, AnnaGrace Alexander 

I grimace as I look in the mirror. Looking at my reflection is starting to get harder every day. I look at my legs, then my arms, then my face, and then my body. I’ve started telling myself good affirmations every so often. My mother suggested I do it every morning. But if I’m being honest, I’d much rather drown in sleep than get up and talk to myself in a mirror. It feels weird telling myself how good I look, and how pretty I am. Especially when I don’t feel it. I try to tell myself it’s alright if I’m not perfect. No one is. But there’s this type of pressure that I feel. It’s like a weight on my shoulders. I moved away from the mirror and looked at my arms. I ran a finger up and down my arm.

Stopping when I feel it. I go back to the mirror and look at my arm. I look at the smooth porcelain skin. Then I look at it. The bittersweetness of pain ruminated on my arm. Sometimes it’s hard to look at it. Other times it’s incredibly easy. I suppose it depends on how I feel. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still remember the day I got it. I can picture it. The glass. My tears. Everything. I remember taking a shower after, and not knowing what to feel. It wasn’t the first time I had done it. And it wouldn’t be the last.



I stepped into my closet and looked at my clothes. The ones I was wearing and the ones hanging. As I left my closet, I had a thought. A what if. What if I went? What if I just left and left my problems behind? Although I doubted it would work. My mother always told me that “Your problems are your own, they follow you everywhere.” I thought about that for a minute and then walked out of my room. I made sure to walk quietly, careful not to wake my mother. Not because she would be mad if I woke her up. But because I enjoy letting her sleep. She gets to rest and I get alone time. Beautiful alone time. I walked out of the house and into my front yard. And as I did, I saw a dog. The dog was lying down not doing anything special. But it was special to me. I imagined what it would be like. To be that dog. Happy and free from worries.



Soon the sunlight faded, and the moon was brought up to glory. The stars came out and the lights in houses went off. I lay down, my mind full of wonder and my head full of thought. I studied the ceiling just thinking to myself. That lasted for about a half-hour. I tried to sleep but nothing would work. I even tried counting sheep and singing to myself. Usually, singing helps, but not tonight. I opened my window and laid back down. I raised my arm and ran a finger up and down it once again, feeling it. I knew I could never forget it, let alone get rid of it, but it was nice to pretend it wasn’t there sometimes. I know it doesn’t matter. It's not something I can control anymore. Sometimes you have to let something exist to be okay with it. I sat up and looked out the window. I could tell this night was going to be a long one.