Beneath the Scars (Writing Exercise)

• Posted by Okan-Zeeus August 20, 2015 - 1,066 views

  ~ READ THIS BEFORE BEGINNING ~

  This was a strange little experiment. Just something I whipped up while free writing. I was originally going to keep it to myself, but that seemed like such a waste...

  I thought it was good enough that I ought to share it.

  First, I want you to read this as you see it. Don’t highlight anything. Once you’ve read it through, go back and highlight the whole text with your cursor.

  You will see there are hidden lines.

  Read the piece again and see how it changes.

  The writing's still a little rough. I could probably edit it more, but I think it works in its current state. I hope you find it interesting.

   

  ~ Writing Begins ~

  There is a story behind every scar. Some scars are tales of triumph. Others are tales of defeat. More still are tales of survival. I will tell the story behind these scars on my face.

  Yes… tell it. Tell your story. The story you will never live down.

  It happened a long time ago in the province of Black Marsh.

  In your first hours after escaping execution.

  There were people pursuing me, trying to kill me.

  The An-Xileel. The ones you thought you had been fighting for.

  I was scantily dressed... unarmed… and in need of a weapon.

  The last fight had nearly killed you.

  My mental state was poor...

  You were mourning and in shock.

  It was a moment of great stress.

  You were desperate.

  I sought the aid of an old friend of mine, a weapon smith. His dwelling was nearby.

  Bunach. His blades shed more blood in your hands than any other.

  But I was unsure if he would willingly help me.

  You were a traitor to Black Marsh. Officially. Everyone knew your name.

  I could not risk confronting him face to face.

  You doubted him.

  It was the dead of night… so I snuck into his home, to reach his armory.

  He showed it to you many times. You always enjoyed seeing the pride he took in his work.

  I was confident I could steal a weapon without causing a scene.

  Your nerves made you sloppy.

  I would take the dullest blade, the one that was worth the least. I never meant any harm.

  What did you think would happen?

  Thieving was a low for me, but my thoughts were consumed with survival.

  You thought only about yourself.

  I reached the armory. It was dark.

  Pitch black. But you knew where to look.

  I found a sword I could use and was about to take it.

  You wound up leaving it in the end. You did not even get what you came for.

  But my friend had heard my footsteps. He attacked. He did not know it was me.

  He never did lend mercy to thieves.

  He was armed.

  …

  I defended myself.

  …

  We fought in the darkness…

  …You knew.

  He wounded me… left these claw marks on my face…

  You knew he never stood a chance!

  …and I wounded him. Badly.

  You left him blind! Face torn, blood seeping from his eyes! You blinded your own friend!!

  Only then did I realize the mistake I had made.

  How could you!?

  I was a fool.

  You monster!!!

  Do you remember his silence!? How he spoke nothing to you after he discovered who you were!? He was speechless! He never thought you would do such a thing! He TRUSTED you! And you betrayed that trust! He was a friend you did not have to lose. You should not have lost him! But you had already lost everything, hadn’t you? Your name was tarnished. Your family was dead. You knew you were going to spend the rest of your life running. What was one more loss? What was one more betrayal?

  In the end, I could have healed my scars. But I chose to leave them on my face. They remind me every day of the lessons I learned that night.

  I swore from then on that I would never steal again.

  Never… again…

  RANDOM IMAGE TIME