Scars

 Scars 

Everyone has them, but hardly anyone notices them. They tell stories about us; how we’ve become who we are, whether we changed on purpose or not. They carry stories of what happened, like memories, but physical ones. 

    My story, or physical memory, brings me back to when I was younger, I was in elementary school 3rd or 4hth grade I can’t remember anymore, I was playing football with my friends at recess,  it was winter and the ground was a little slippery but and there wasn't much snow, we always went rougher in the winter, it's like we thought our snow gear was pads of some sort. Anyways, I was running to catch the ball. I was a little behind so I dove and managed to grab the ball right before my elbow landed right on a manhole cover. I remember it hurt, a lot but I didn’t cry at all. I thought I composed myself well. After I got up I removed myself from the game and went to sit on a snowbank. I peeled off my jacket to access the damage and saw that I was bleeding. Never losing my calm I took some snow and placed it on my elbow, not letting anyone take me to the nurses office.

I don't think about this day much, which probably has to do with me not seeing the scar very often, but when I do it reminds me to keep my calm in unpredicted situations and to always try to stay in control of myself.    
 

MCorti06

VT

18 years old

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