Memoir of the SCARS

Where it all started

*A memory

Until now, I still remember my long thick hair as dark as the alluring skies of midnight as it was twisted, tucked and parted into sections to make two little pigtail braids clasped together by pink strawberry detailed elastic hair bands which were whipping around me as I ran up the stairs as fast as I could towards the fourth floor of our mini department store with my short legs. The stiff skirt from my denim jumper mildly restricting my legs from lifting to its comfortable extent to the steps of the stairs to increase my speed.

I know, I shouldn't be running up the stairs because one mistake from my cerebellum or the small caress from the fondness of my acquaintance whom is bad luck, I could just slip and fall to my doom.

Try telling that to my stubborn five year old self.

I'll only listen to you if; you bribe me with food, you buy me a toy, or you make me the queen of a big pink castle with rainbows in the background, purple and blue Pegasus-unicorn hybrid prancing around everywhere with kingdom grounds consisted of assorted edible sweets, a yellow and orange striped moose, everything fancier than Polly Pocket's and Barbie's glittering nonesense combined, and a pretty crown. Yep.

I could still recall those heart aching moments where I would sometimes over hear complains that I was like the spawn of Satan, or that I was a kid that was too much to handle, that I was just a disgrace, they pity my father for the headache that I was putting him through and that they can already conclude that I won't be successful when I grow up because it's just too impossible. Hearing those words, I felt it go straight through my heart and into my soul stabbing its sharp knives mercilessly as it traveled, and slashed me open unforgivably everywhere and left me to feel the black, dark pain of worthlessness and disgust for myself for even breathing. And the sensation of my cold, saline tears dripping from the sides of my agony-filled eyes leaving wet trails down my warm, flushed cheeks. It almost felt as if every tear is every broken piece of my small shattered heart. The pang of misery too much for my young, oblivious self to handle that it left me desperately gasping for air. Hoping each time that I breathe, a piece of my wrecked heart would mend. But judging from the sharp twinge of my little frail heart from the constant ringing of those horrible words inside my head, its no avail. What do they expect in a five year old? To act like a thirty year old woman? Its not my fault that I want to enjoy my childhood. Which was taken harshly and abruptly from me before in the future. On other occasions I would just brush it off and leave it be. But I was still a kid who can hear comments about her being compared to a devil. Or that they don't like me. And as much as I would try to act okay and continue playing with my dolls, it would always hurt. Anyways their comments in which under such circumstances may be deemed to be true, but other than that, if you don't have anything to propose in return of my obedience..

Expect that your words of caution will be heard as another small 'Whoosh' of air created by the crisp summer breeze. Come into one ear, exit on the other. Ha.

"Whoa, ma'am Nymphra, slow down!"

One exclaimed as I hastily zoomed past. Sparing a glance of milliseconds towards the owner of the voice, I saw it was one of our employees who's identity I have seem to forget. But then again, I don't really pay much attention to my surroundings unless it's of importance.

Anyways, like the any other five year old with the attention span of an over fed goldfish,

I paid the person no mind. Like, 'you no candy, I no mindy'.

Yeah, that's the best and only rhyming quote my five year old hard headed self can think of. Hey, at least appreciate the effort! Not.

Oh! Where are my manners? I almost forgot to tell you my name! Cue dramatic face palm. See? I told you so. Sometimes I would wonder if some goldfish died before I was born, magically and impossibly the soul went to me inside of my mother's womb, reincarnated and then, poof! Here I am. But the question is,