Warning: Sexual Content, Mature Themes
This is a scene that may contain content which may make the viewer uncomfortable but I write in memory of a beloved friend.
Often in writing, we write to create a new reality, an illusion so we may help ourselves and the reader escape. With this, I hope to break that illusion to shed light on what some people must face on a daily basis...
...and what people are unable to see... or choose, pretend, to stop in favor of their view of reality.
This was written in response to a prompt with the genre of Tragedy.
The story follows two high school students, two long lost childhood friends. After ten years of separation, high school draw the two together. Yet. Mark carries the loss of his twin sister, her shadow hanging over him; she had died in a car accident. Sana had lost her parents from the same car accident. Both orphaned, though Sana was soon adopted by a teacher at the high school they both attend.
Sana is pressing in her attempts to rekindle her friendship with Mark, whom she refers to as her 'older brother', nickname she had given to him while at the orphanage. But as he was then, he remains indifferent.
Until...
Rumors are widespread. All high school students have them. Mark even has his own. Yet the the ones surrounding Sana are far more darker. When Mark witnesses her being bullied, he steps up--while doing so he glimpses scars on Sana's neck, ones that couldn't have been from bullying.
This act of kindness Sana uses to continue offering her hand of friendship and love while keeping her aura of mystery until Mark's barriers give way and he takes Sana's hand. Marks feelings blossom into something more; Sana remains skeptical, remembering how he was ten years ago and the brief months of high school; then Mark kisses her.
The mask she had thought Mark was wearing fades and her heart begins to beat again. But it slows as the plan she had laid comes to life. She takes Mark to a park at night, the moon is full; its light bright as day. Coming to a glade away from any public eye, she removes her clothes.
Mark's eyes widen, not at her nakedness. No...what was hidden from the unseen eye.
White scars, blue bruises, raw burns, cut, bite, teeth marks, brands, scrapes, puncture wounds...some were undecipherable, others covered by new scars and injuries.
“But you can let go of the past, for all scars heal in time. Do not let them decide your fate!” exclaimed Mark.
Sana ‘s eyes flashed, her body trembled as she unleashed her what had been locked up for so long.
“You are truly ignorant.” Sana snarled. “You have not seen or experienced what I have in the last ten years!”
She took her left hand, her pale skin scarred and touched a circular scar on her breast. “This scar was from when you went to the shopping; leaving me at the high school.”
She ran her other hand to a red cut on her left arm’s elbow.
“This was from the day before, I had come home late my brother took offense to that.”
She touched her foreleg.
“This was for when my brother realized I wasn’t his real sister, but a fake replacement.”
She turned and ran her hand on a knife shaped brand running from shoulder to shoulder.
“This was when the food was served too cold.”
Her hand ran to her neck, where Mark could see a fresh bruise.
“This was from yesterday, my brother saw me with you.”
Her hands continued downward, Mark could see the countless scars upon scars, wounds upon wounds—some still fresh. Her hands touched her hips.
“This was from this morning, I was late to school. Brother was so angry. So he threw his art supplies at me. Brushes, knives, canvases, pencils, paint cans, tables…
I wanted to die, I wanted to cry, I wanted scream, I wanted to yell, I wanted to breath, I wanted to throw up, I wanted…”
She paused, her eyes slowly meeting Mark’s, her eyes replaying all those days and nights of those ten years of anguish and tears…till it came to a stop.
“Then one Christmas, I had worn a skirt for the occasion. Wasn’t I thoughtful? I thought I looked cute. But my brother only hit me harder until I fell and my skirt flew up.
Before I knew it…”
She let her hands fall, rays of moonlight falling upon her nakedness; scars, bruises, cuts--light and dark, blue and red, lighting her up like shattered stained glass.
“I always wanted give myself to someone in marriage, body and soul…”
Then did Mark see tears begin to all … anger …hatred …fear …relief …sadness …loss…envy…he did not know.
“…on that one night, on Christmas, my body became no longer fit for marriage…”
This is a scene that may contain content which may make the viewer uncomfortable but I write in memory of a beloved friend.
Often in writing, we write to create a new reality, an illusion so we may help ourselves and the reader escape. With this, I hope to break that illusion to shed light on what some people must face on a daily basis...
...and what people are unable to see... or choose, pretend, to stop in favor of their view of reality.
This was written in response to a prompt with the genre of Tragedy.
The story follows two high school students, two long lost childhood friends. After ten years of separation, high school draw the two together. Yet. Mark carries the loss of his twin sister, her shadow hanging over him; she had died in a car accident. Sana had lost her parents from the same car accident. Both orphaned, though Sana was soon adopted by a teacher at the high school they both attend.
Sana is pressing in her attempts to rekindle her friendship with Mark, whom she refers to as her 'older brother', nickname she had given to him while at the orphanage. But as he was then, he remains indifferent.
Until...
Rumors are widespread. All high school students have them. Mark even has his own. Yet the the ones surrounding Sana are far more darker. When Mark witnesses her being bullied, he steps up--while doing so he glimpses scars on Sana's neck, ones that couldn't have been from bullying.
This act of kindness Sana uses to continue offering her hand of friendship and love while keeping her aura of mystery until Mark's barriers give way and he takes Sana's hand. Marks feelings blossom into something more; Sana remains skeptical, remembering how he was ten years ago and the brief months of high school; then Mark kisses her.
The mask she had thought Mark was wearing fades and her heart begins to beat again. But it slows as the plan she had laid comes to life. She takes Mark to a park at night, the moon is full; its light bright as day. Coming to a glade away from any public eye, she removes her clothes.
Mark's eyes widen, not at her nakedness. No...what was hidden from the unseen eye.
White scars, blue bruises, raw burns, cut, bite, teeth marks, brands, scrapes, puncture wounds...some were undecipherable, others covered by new scars and injuries.
“But you can let go of the past, for all scars heal in time. Do not let them decide your fate!” exclaimed Mark.
Sana ‘s eyes flashed, her body trembled as she unleashed her what had been locked up for so long.
“You are truly ignorant.” Sana snarled. “You have not seen or experienced what I have in the last ten years!”
She took her left hand, her pale skin scarred and touched a circular scar on her breast. “This scar was from when you went to the shopping; leaving me at the high school.”
She ran her other hand to a red cut on her left arm’s elbow.
“This was from the day before, I had come home late my brother took offense to that.”
She touched her foreleg.
“This was for when my brother realized I wasn’t his real sister, but a fake replacement.”
She turned and ran her hand on a knife shaped brand running from shoulder to shoulder.
“This was when the food was served too cold.”
Her hand ran to her neck, where Mark could see a fresh bruise.
“This was from yesterday, my brother saw me with you.”
Her hands continued downward, Mark could see the countless scars upon scars, wounds upon wounds—some still fresh. Her hands touched her hips.
“This was from this morning, I was late to school. Brother was so angry. So he threw his art supplies at me. Brushes, knives, canvases, pencils, paint cans, tables…
I wanted to die, I wanted to cry, I wanted scream, I wanted to yell, I wanted to breath, I wanted to throw up, I wanted…”
She paused, her eyes slowly meeting Mark’s, her eyes replaying all those days and nights of those ten years of anguish and tears…till it came to a stop.
“Then one Christmas, I had worn a skirt for the occasion. Wasn’t I thoughtful? I thought I looked cute. But my brother only hit me harder until I fell and my skirt flew up.
Before I knew it…”
She let her hands fall, rays of moonlight falling upon her nakedness; scars, bruises, cuts--light and dark, blue and red, lighting her up like shattered stained glass.
“I always wanted give myself to someone in marriage, body and soul…”
Then did Mark see tears begin to all … anger …hatred …fear …relief …sadness …loss…envy…he did not know.
“…on that one night, on Christmas, my body became no longer fit for marriage…”
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