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Forgetting Scars
Sitting. Silently. Quietly. The occasional crack of a branch rings throughout the densely packed wooded area, though she keeps sitting, waiting for an end. An end to the chastisement, the adolescent segregation, the constant beating from society, that’s all she wants. But she knows it won’t.
As the night slowly wears on, she continues to sit in the same location, trying to ignore the frigid temperatures that have no intentions of rising. Watching her own fingers as their coloring begins to ebb, she silently mouths through her cracked lips, “Just close your eyes the sun is going down.. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.. Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.” Reassuringly rocking back and forth.
She starts to recollect on her unwanted years in the school system from when she could barely read and write, till now, the beginnings of high school. Looking aimlessly at her slashed wrists brings her back to the traumatizing days of junior high. The exclusion, harassment and the hours upon hours spent alone hiding from the world. Nothing within herself can ever allow her to forget the wincing memories, even when all seems as if nothing was wrong.
Sealing her eyes shut, the lost hours of sleep start to seep into her system, her body telling her to rest and retreat home. But she remains sitting; eyes wide open, hoping to stay there until the bitter end. She hears a faint rustling of leaves and a distant cry. At first, she perceives the noises as another pattern of wind and animal echoes, but then as the cries and the faltering leaves grow louder she realizes the sounds are coming from somebody. The only somebody whom she trusts and loves.
“Keeg, KEEGAN! Are you here?! Babe come out please!” the voice repeatedly pleaded out into the murky sky and rickety oaks.
She slightly starts to panic, for she doesn't want to be seen by anybody, anymore, not even him. Frustration runs through her mind, 'Stop Fletcher, please.' She internally begs, 'Why are you doing this? You don’t deserve me, just leave me be.'
Beginning to worry, she uses all the leftover strength in her withered lower limbs to carefully move her positioning to where she knows nobody would find her until dawn, just the time she needs. Every step sends shocks through her stiffened structure, not allowing her to travel any faster. When she reaches her destination, around 45 yards down the way, she cracks. She can’t take it any longer.
Reaching for the broken tree limb, she grasps it in her discolored fingertips and raises the spear inches above her head. She keeps hacking at her slaughtered wrists and weakening legs until the temperatures begin to set into the wounds. Moving her hands one last time to wipe her final lonely teardrops.
The next morning, when he comes upon the body, covered in blood, he reads the note left on her chest -If I disappeared, would anybody notice?-
Kneeling down, he wraps the corpse in his arms and whispers, “I will.”
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