Daily prompt: scars.
Lisa was the only girl in PE class that wore long sleeves. She was also the only girl in the summer to wear sweaters. And she was the only girl who wouldn’t change clothes with the other girls.
It caused rumors. ‘She’s a boy’, an older girl would say. She was a senior, and a bully too. Her friends laughed. ‘I heard she’s a hermaphrodite and she’ll change color when she’s exposed to too much sunlight’, I overheard some other boy say. Probably an ignorant freshman.
Lisa herself wouldn’t say anything at all. Her face always had a neutral expression and her chin was rested on her right hand about 85% of the time. She actually made all her homework and did good in all her classes, I noticed. And if you wanted to copy her work she would let you. I think that’s one of the reasons she was never really openly bullied. Not that she had friends either.
But high school ended and we graduated. Lisa didn’t show up. There was no picture of her in the yearbook, just her name. Like she didn’t have a face. I didn’t like that. Lisa was someone too.
Years later I saw her in a grocery store in a different city, four hours from where we grew up. In a tanktop and smile on her face. She didn’t see me. I didn’t say hi to her, we had never spoken more than ten words in all of high school so I don’t even think she remembered me. Her arms were covered in old scars, the ones that she never showed us in high school. But she didn’t care. Not anymore. And she looked more beautiful than ever.
Photo taken by Volkan Olmez (via Unsplash.com)