Scars

So I was sitting in English class today when the subject of scars came up. The first thing that comes to mind at the word scars is my friend Hannah. I know you guys are probably sick of hearing this, but there is always one event in your life that changes who you are, and you can’t help talking about it, and Hannah is mine. I suddenly remembered something she had told me. We had just finished PE for the day, it was cold and we had just finished swimming, so we were lying on the warm concrete along the outside of the pool. Then too the topic of scars came up, and I said something along the lines of “I wish acne scars would turn into freckles, because then they would blend into my freckles.” And this I remember distinctly. Hannah turned over, looked me straight in the eye and said “if scars were freckles, I would have a bunch of freckles that spell out the word ‘lies'”. I had seen these scars when they were new, they were on her wrist. Cut into it with a kitchen knife. She seemed to regret these scars at the time. Before she died, she told us what each of her scars were from and why they still hurt. Most of them were just shadows on the outside of her body that showed what was on the inside. And now, whenever I hear the word “scar” I think of Hannah, and her freckles.