My Scar

In a village not too far from here, there lived a little girl. She was a sweet girl, and a beautiful girl, but she was also a girl who carried many heavy burdens. Since the time she was very young, she had a large scar that ran across her face. It was an old scar with a very complex history, but in many ways it did not matter who or why she got it. The principle matter was that she had it, and that it ran right down the middle of her face.

As a child she did not mind. She was young an innocent. The opinions of others didn't cross her mind, and because of this she was able to dance through her beautiful childhood unburdened. She continued to grow and laugh through life until she reached the age where she sat between the brink of childhood and becoming a young woman.

It was during this threshold time in her life when she happened to walk by a mirror. Now, she had walked by many mirrors and seen her reflection many times throughout the years, but this time something struck her as different. For the first time, she noticed that scar. It wasn't much, but it twinged ever so slightly.

Fortunately, as mentioned before, she was a beautiful girl. She quickly turned away from the mirror and continued dancing. But as the days wore on and the spring gave way to summer, she found herself drawn to the mirror. She would linger longer and longer at its side, watching her reflection. As she did so, her beauty seemed to pale and fade as the scar grew from barely noticeable to reaching across her face. As it grew, the young woman seemed to shrink. Dancing and laughing died, only to be replaced with anger, shame and helplessness.

The young woman tried a variety or remedies. She covered and lathered, massaged and smeared, but no matter what she did, at the end of the day the scar would still be there. Looking back through the reflection looming across her face.

As fall changed to winter and the icicles hung low on the branches, the girl began to cover her face. As she covered her face against the cold, she realized how warm and comfortable it was to keep her face  inside, covered by the scarf. The winter wore on, and she continued to be haunted by the scar. However, each time she thought of it, she would only secure the scarf closer and closer to her face.

The cold weather gave way to warm, and the girl knew she had to give up her precious scarf. Instead, she kept a scrap of it and used it to create a mask. It was an ill-fitting mask; it pinched her face in some places and added extra weight in others, but it was a mask that would cover her face, and that is exactly what she wanted.