Scar

• Irene Santillan, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2021

Her nimble fingers glide over the rough, bumpy skin of her scalp, as she used a woollen beanie to hide her only insecurity. She has had this scar ever since she was a child and she had no idea how she got it. Her dad told her that she just fell from a tree, but the scar was way too deep to have just been from a fall from a tree. Lydia had vague memories of falling from a tall oak tree, but there was a boy with her. Not her brother, and not her cousin. But she had no idea who he was, or where he came from.
“Stop! I’m going to fall!” Her soft chubby cheeks blushed red in the snow cold winter as he slightly nudged her, just to scare her a little. Their bottoms chilly, from sitting on the wet, dirty snow on the branch of this tall tree. They had climbed up the tree using a rickety old ladder that her dad had in the garage. And she was with this boy. They smiled at each other, and it soon washed away, knowing they wouldn’t be together anymore. Her chubby little fingers held his hand, in fear.
“Why can’t you just stay? I have no other friends.” She sniffled and used the sleeve of her oversized jacket to wipe her snot and tears that were oozing out of her face. He stared at her and thought of the memories they had spent together. He remembers the time that she had made warm gooey cookies for him during the harsh time blizzard, or the hours they had spent trying to find her lost mitten in the snow and dirt. His eyes glistened as he looked away, after staring at her for too long.
“I’ll miss you. Lydia.” He held her tight, and reluctantly sucking the memory from her conscious, erasing all reminiscence of him, while cherishing her warm touch. He soon disappeared into thin air, and without his embrace to protect her, she was caught up in her thoughts, and a strong gust of wind tipped the scale. She fell and saw a small yellow glow to the wind that had pushed her over. Before she had fallen to the ground, she closed her eyes in sorrow, as she felt nothing but emptiness and void. As if, a piece of her had been taken away from her.
Crash. Landing headfirst onto the shovel that her father used to clear the driveway when she wanted to draw on the pavement with chalk. The shovel that she had been using to get some money, for doing her chores. The shovel that gave her a concussion. The shovel that made her lose all her memories, and that was diagnosed by the doctors. The shovel that made her lose all recollections of her best friend.
She had lost him. Forever.