[theatrical_muse] Tell the story of one of your past scars.
Tell the story of one of your past scars.
Are we talking about literal scars that discolour pieces of your skin like marks to remind you of times long since past? Or figurative scars that are on your very fucking soul and will never heal and never really fade because they are so deep engrained in who you are or who you’ve become that without them there is no you anyway?
See I used to be the quiet sarcastic girl who just hoped and prayed that daddy would wake up one day and realize he loved her. I had some issues with my mom, don’t get me wrong she was amazing, IS amazing but issues. With my dad I guess the hope that he would change held me into the false sense of complacency. I have all kinds of little scars from dancing, I’ve busted bones, split open my lip a few times that you can see if you look close enough. I even got dropped at a ballet recital when I was 12 and busted my head open and there’s a scar on my scalp. Last year was not the first time my head was shaved, albeit when I was 12 it was partial and my friends thought it was kinda cool.
So let’s go with the duality of my most recent figurative and literal scar. Let’s jump back into my psychosis and fucking rip me back open again? How about not. How about I keep my sanity by not telling you about the most traumatic experiences of my life. Cause see, I fucking remember. I don’t know if the dose of GHB in my drink just wasn’t quite strong enough to totally knock me out but I was half conscious when someone snuck into my room in the middle of the night and raped me. I even attempted to fight back as much as I possible could under those dazed fucking circumstances. I remember what it felt like and I even have this tiny little scar on my wrist from where his nail drew blood. But it was too dark and I was drugged and I never got a good look at him. And look at that I talked about it anyway, my lack of therapist would be proud.
So don’t fucking ask me about my scars. Don’t think you’re going to learn anything about me because of the horrible experiences of my life. Just … seriously, deal with your own trauma and stay the fuck out of mine.
Muse: Samantha Landry
Fandom: Original Character - Veronica Mars
Word Count: 412
Are we talking about literal scars that discolour pieces of your skin like marks to remind you of times long since past? Or figurative scars that are on your very fucking soul and will never heal and never really fade because they are so deep engrained in who you are or who you’ve become that without them there is no you anyway?
See I used to be the quiet sarcastic girl who just hoped and prayed that daddy would wake up one day and realize he loved her. I had some issues with my mom, don’t get me wrong she was amazing, IS amazing but issues. With my dad I guess the hope that he would change held me into the false sense of complacency. I have all kinds of little scars from dancing, I’ve busted bones, split open my lip a few times that you can see if you look close enough. I even got dropped at a ballet recital when I was 12 and busted my head open and there’s a scar on my scalp. Last year was not the first time my head was shaved, albeit when I was 12 it was partial and my friends thought it was kinda cool.
So let’s go with the duality of my most recent figurative and literal scar. Let’s jump back into my psychosis and fucking rip me back open again? How about not. How about I keep my sanity by not telling you about the most traumatic experiences of my life. Cause see, I fucking remember. I don’t know if the dose of GHB in my drink just wasn’t quite strong enough to totally knock me out but I was half conscious when someone snuck into my room in the middle of the night and raped me. I even attempted to fight back as much as I possible could under those dazed fucking circumstances. I remember what it felt like and I even have this tiny little scar on my wrist from where his nail drew blood. But it was too dark and I was drugged and I never got a good look at him. And look at that I talked about it anyway, my lack of therapist would be proud.
So don’t fucking ask me about my scars. Don’t think you’re going to learn anything about me because of the horrible experiences of my life. Just … seriously, deal with your own trauma and stay the fuck out of mine.
Muse: Samantha Landry
Fandom: Original Character - Veronica Mars
Word Count: 412