\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1361610-Once-upon-a-scar
Item Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1361610
A small story about a little girl. Watching six years of her life, suddely it all changes.
Once upon a scar, a short story created by Stephanie

Once upon, a nightmare, inside an old, cracked cemetery, there lays a small frail girl. Looking at six miserable years in her past, she solemnly sighs, “no one wants me, why am I here? I’ve been abused to a point where I can’t hide my scars anymore…” she looked at the haunted moon with distressed dull green eyes and watched the misty clouds roll over head, covering her only light source, “I want to leave this world, I want to leave it now…but I know there is someone, someone for me, to take me away from this dreadful place…”

The next night, a storm cloud arouses from sleep and thunders it’s way into her dreams. Cracking her eyes to see the pouring rain, she crawls out from under a tilted headstone, “will someone take me home? I promise I’ll be good, I promise to do as I say, I promise to  make sure the house is clean  before you wake up…” saying this all in a small prayer, the silently let the cold air drift it away from her. Crawling back and bringing her knees to her chest, she silently cried the rest of the night, slowly falling back to sleep with the rain moister bringing her pain in her scars.

As the sun rises up, her scars slowly began to appear. Wearing nothing but a rag down gown and no shoes even, she had no choice but for them to show. Watching the front gate for the cemetery guards, she crawled out of her stay place from a little hole in the fence; only being concealed by some bushes. On the outside, a market not to far brought different smells of food. Clenching her stomach with pain and hunger, she made her way down. Walking past the hoards of people, she say their healthy bodies and bright eyes, looking back at her she only had dusty dirty clothes and dull eyes that brought fright in other children’s eyes. Sitting her self down under a tree, a couple police guards walked up, “excuse me miss, but it is a violation for people of your status to sit in public areas such a this, you could spread an unwanted disease” he raised an eye as she painfully got up. Not wanting to wait any longer, he pulled her up by her wrist, covering up a couple scars coursing pain through her arm. Letting out a gasp of unruly pain she pulled back out of his grasp and rubbed her sore wrist. Watching her react back he couldn’t withstand the fact that someone refused to complete his direct orders, extending his arm and picking her up by the arm again and then he threw out on the dirt. Landing on  numerous bruises, she could feel people staring and she could heard a few scoffing and some rich children giggling. Feeling embarrassed and too number with pain, she got back up with a small amount of balance. Watching people around her exchanging words with their friends or lovers, she didn’t notice some boys picking up rocks. As soon as their ammo was ready, they fired the stones and hit her scars as many times as possible. Not being able to take such harassment any more, she pushed out of the crowd and ran to the nearest and darkest alley.

While running through the city, she bumped into something; disappointed that she couldn’t make it to an alley to escape from the world, she slowly looked up. She was a beautiful woman with golden locks and starry blue eyes, she wore a rich soft yellow rich dress with little pink ribbons laced on the bottom. The lady examined her features then looked at her eyes, “and who might you be?” giving off a soft tone to relaxation and comfort, then little girl stepped closer, “k-kala”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl…where is your mother or father?”
“My momma was killed, and my papa is…dead” knowing that she really just ran away, and her father is still alive in the city next to this one. “That’s terrible…you shouldn’t be running around an getting hurt” looking at her scars, she slowly then met her eyes. “I don’t want to go to the orphanage…”
“Then don’t…” kneeling down to meet her eye level, she whispered, “would you like to live with me in London?” only trying to save her from misery, she gently offered. Thinking about the offer, and looking on how wealthy she was dressed, she slowly nodded. Thankful that she would be free of her misery and heart broken pain, she wrapped her arms around her neck.

Once upon a dream, a little girl at the age of six. She sits in a carriage and watched the people in the town go by. Thankful that someone found her a home. Sitting in a small carriage, she waited for it to get loaded before they left, “thank you, I promise to make her happy, and I promise to do as much as I can to stay” with that being said, a light gentle breeze took her thanks away for others to hear. Stepping inside the carriage, the woman looked at her, “what is it dear?” then she slowly put her hand on top of the little girls head. “N-nothing, what do I call you now?”
“Well my name is Marissia Rosietta, but what do you want to call me?”
“since you saved my life…and I don’t have to bear the cold of my scars, can I call you momma?” the sweetest way her voice was let out, almost made marissia shed a tear, “yes you may…” bringing her in close to a tight hug, knowing that she couldn’t throw her out on the streets again…
© Copyright 2007 stephie (drkfire_16 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1361610-Once-upon-a-scar