Scara Rose, The Warrior

Chapter 72

Emma's pov

As soon as I see Scara's back, I clasp my hands over my mouth to silence my gasp as tears instantly flow from my eyes.

Peaking up from her spaghetti strap tank top are dark jagged scars. There are clusters of them. In some places, you can't tell how many there really are.

In some places, you can clearly see the puncture marks. Like the scar above her heart, they have a slight indention as well.

"I was hoping," Scara sobs, as she turns back around, "that when I came back from the Underworld that they would've disappeared. When I was on my way to Heaven, I could feel them fading, but when I came back they just reappeared."

I leap off the bench and wrap my little sister in the tightest, most comforting hug that I can. JJ comes up around the other side and does the same. I feel a few of Scara's tears hit my shirt, before she gently pulls away.

She gives us both a semi watery smile, and then she continues.

"Between those, the ones from when I died, and the ones from when I was a pirate, I just panicked when I saw the dresses. The scars have faded over the years, and they don't even really bother me as much. This is the first time in a long time that I've even felt the need to cry over them. I would probably be okay wearing a dress that showed some of them, but I just..."

"You don't want people to know," I finish.

"Not just people," Scara responds, looking me in the eyes.

When we see she is calmed down, JJ and I sit back down.

"Our family."

I should have known. I felt the same way. Our parents feel extremely guilty over what happened to us. They'll never admit it, but you can tell. Whenever our pasts are brought up, they're curious but also fearful. They blame themselves for the things that happened to us.

However, over the past six years, I've learned that sometimes it's best to share parts of the past that trouble you. You sit, cry it out with your family, and then move past it. If you don't it will either haunt you or it will be revealed eventually.

Given the record, it will come out at the worst possible time.

Now I haven't told my parents every time I was hurt or let down growing up, but they do know of the times that used to haunt me. Scara knows too, and I know pieces of her past.

I want to share this advice with Scara, but it's really something she needs to learn on her own. Before this, if someone had told me that sharing was the best option, I would have ran. I don't want Scara to do or feel the same.

However, we have the pressing issue of finding a wedding dress on our hands.

I pull myself out of my thoughts when I see something.

I see very faint thin lined scars that trail down Scara's arms and parts of her back. Because they're so faint, they must be very old.

"What are these?" I ask carefully, as I lightly draw my finger over the barely noticeable lines.

Scara looks at her shoulder to see what I'm talking about. She has so many scars that she has to actually look to see what I'm talking about.

"When I was a baby, I was cut up pretty bad. I was a newborn, when someone took a sharp edge to me. No one knows who did it, but they sliced me up, and threw me in the dumpster next to the orphan's home."

She doesn't even flinch as she tells us. She has either had to say this several times, or she's not that affected by it.

Knowing my sister, it just doesn't affect her.

This just troubles me more. No one should simply be 'okay' with this.

Scara give me a small, sad smile.

"Most orphans in Port Royal had it bad. Some actually had worse stories than me."

I swear it's like she can read my mind sometimes.

"I know this is not a great time, but we should really get you and Emma back to find your dresses," JJ says.

"I know, but what do I do?" Scara sighs, "I almost have to tell everyone about my scars. You both saw those dresses. They show at least the top of my back, and the scars nearly reach my neck."

Scara sighs again.

"You have to tell them," I say with a sympathetic smile.

"How?! How do I do that?! Do I just walk up and say, 'Hey Mom, ever wonder why my name is Scara?!'"

Scara's pov

As soon as the words left my mouth, I stop pacing and glance to the two women in shock.

I immediately regret my words.

Both JJ and Emma's eyes widen in horror and surprise.

I sigh in response, as I run a hand through my flowing hair. I hadn't intended on telling them this part, but now that it's out there I kind of have to.

"In Port Royal, if a child showed up without a name, it was the responsibility of the main caretaker to give the child a first name. The middle and last name would remain blank until the child was adopted. To say the caretaker didn't give a shit is an understatement. She literally did not care at all, and we all could tell.

When it came to names, she would just look at the kid and give them a name based on how they looked. Names could be changed when they were adopted, but there's something about your given name that just sticks with you.

According to some of the older kids in the orphanage, she looked at the cuts on my arms, legs, and back and saw that they were going to scar over when they healed. She just added an 'a' at the end and put it on my record."

Suddenly we hear footsteps off to the right of us. We all snap our heads to the sound to see the rest of the bridal shopping party standing with tears in their eyes.