The crown of life

Chapter Two: Marked Forever

Seeing her awakened those dormant memories from my past, memories I wished would stay asleep because they were too painful. But they stirred awake, reminding me of my dreadful childhood and the scar that screamed with pain just as it did on the day I first woke up with it on my face.

I started crying in front of the patient and her brother, and images began to flash before my good eye:

As a four-month-old baby, I had no scar. At that time, the house echoed with happiness and joy because of my arrival into the world at least, that's how I remember the little house I called my birth home.

I slept in my colorful crib without a care in the world, but that fateful evening, my mother had a fight with my father and left me with him. He was supposed to go out for dinner with friends to watch American football.

After my mother slammed the door with a suitcase in hand, not even saying goodbye, he tried to light the gas to warm my bottle because I was screaming from hunger. But he didn't know how to do it. Since I was next to him we lived in a small house with one room that we called our home.

"I'll be back in a moment, my dear." he said gently, stroking my tummy.

After he left through the door, the gas bottle he lit, unbeknownst to him, suddenly exploded, causing a terrible fire in the house.

I closed my eyes because my face hurt terribly, but my father didn't come back for me. He disappeared that night, just like my mother. They left me alone to burn in the house because no one cared about me.

I woke up eight months later in a hospital, surrounded by unknown machines connected to and around me. I couldn't move because of them, but there was excruciating pain on my face, which was bandaged, and I had lost my eye. I remembered what had happened and started crying, wondering how I ended up here.

I hadn't spoken yet, so I could only watch and listen to the infernal machines buzzing beside me.

A nurse soon arrived and gently stroked me, surprised to see me awake.

She immediately called the doctors, who spoke quietly, but I didn't understand anything. Soon, a young lady from the orphanage arrived. She approached and stroked my hand.

"Stephanie, you'll be alright in a few weeks. I'll come for you, and we'll go to a place where you'll be happy and can play with other children your age." she said, smiling, revealing her sharp, large teeth.

Worst of all, I believed her that it would be nice at that place. I barely smiled back, and she left to talk to the doctors, who now spoke clearly.

"Mrs. Harrison, the girl miraculously woke up from the coma she fell into due to inhaling a large amount of smoke and gas into her weak lungs. We performed facial reconstruction due to the burns she suffered in the fire on the right side of her face, but the woman who carried her out of the fire accidentally dropped her onto knives scattered on the floor. Besides the burns, she also sustained a deep cut we couldn't repair, so she'll have a scar, and she lost her right eye." the doctors informed the orphanage social worker.

I didn't understand anything then, but now I understand everything as a doctor, and I remember the sad look Mrs. Harrison gave me as she turned to say goodbye.

"Stephanie, I'll come for you as soon as you're discharged from the hospital. Until then, be well." she said sadly and gently, leaving with the doctors.

I could only stand there and look at her with the burn on her face, and I noticed a cross-shaped cut, but I couldn't utter a word because looking into her brother's eyes, I saw the trouble called cruel words that I still experience in my everyday life.

My scar still screamed in pain as if touched by a scalpel, though it hadn't been touched for years because I had placed so much hope in countless surgeries.

But each time they removed the bandage in the hospital, I faced a new disappointment, hoping that another surgery would make the scar disappear, but it never did. It was there, and it never let the surgeons remove it.

The hardest part was giving up and saying "no" when called names daily. But once I said "no" it marked the end of my life, my hope of meeting someone because no one loved monsters, and my wishes for a normal life.

Since then, I've lived only for one thing: my patients, from whom I skillfully hide the scar on my face. I became the best pediatrician, giving a chance to those like me because I couldn't fight for myself.

"Doctor, are you alright?" her brother repeated.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back." I replied quickly and rushed out of the room.