Beautiful Scars [1] ✔

Chapter One

The funeral was held in the garden that was behind Castine Church, both the bodies buried in caskets side by side.

The attire was black, all black, to be exact. I was the only person who decided to dress a little differently, with my long red hair cascading down my back and over my shoulders, my long black pants, my dressy, long shirt with my black boots, and my big, black hat to cover my face. No one had seen my face, and I certainly wasn't going to show it. I was ugly, hideous, and embarrassed. This was my face now. It wasn't a mask, nor was it makeup. This was actual flesh on my face. It wasn't like I could just take it off because I couldn't. This was permanent, unbreakable.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began, disturbing me out of my misery. I faced forward, attentive to the last speech that would be made of my parents.

"We are gathered here today to witness the burial of both Megan and Christian Wordon, as we grieve in their time of need."

When he said that, I started sniffling, and my breathing became faster.

"Both Megan and Christian Wordon were good people. People that will be remembered for a long time for their good deeds. Both Megan and Christian attended church regularly, and helped out with the community. Megan was a teacher at the daycare and Christian was one of our famous, well known lawyers. They both will be deeply missed. Whoever did this, I swear to you, they will be deeply punished. But let's not relive the memory of their death, but instead the memory of their triumphant lives."

Eight of my dad's co- lawyer's helped lift the caskets into the ground and a single tear rolled down my hideous face.

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I stayed by the caskets now buried into the ground until I couldn't take it anymore.

I stood up and turned, feeling a hand on my shoulder. In that moment, I knew it was time. I was going to my new home.

I followed the woman to her car, just as the first signs of rain started to appear.

We drove for miles at a time, occasionally stopping for gas when needed. I was silent the whole ride, as was she. I kept on staring out the window, bored and depressed out of my mind, when a sign caught my eye. I stared at it in confusion. Mississippi. We were in Mississippi. We kept on driving and I turned that thought over and over in my mind.

Finally, she pulled over at a quaint house that I was unfamiliar with. The house was about the size of a small cottage, the design obviously brick, and the roof was a triangular shape and started just above the top window. So it was a two story house, unlike home. The windows were a pale white, and flowers guarded the sides of the entrance to the house. I walked up the stairs, finally reaching the front door and the caseworker rang the doorbell a few times. Finally, the door opened, revealing a short, plump woman with a smile covering half of her face.

She moved out of the way quietly, and I followed silent behind the caseworker.

I sat down on the couch and the caseworker sat down a few spots next to me, looking bored.

"Mrs. Tilly, this is Sophia Wordon."

The woman could barely contain her excitement. "Hi, Sophie, welcome to our home! I hope you're enjoying it here in Mississippi."

Yes. I am. I totally enjoy being shipped off to a different state. One where my parents aren't buried. So I can't see them. I am completely joyful!

"Hi," I mumbled, pulling my hair to cover my face.

The room was silent and you could hear a pen drop.

"Well," the caseworker began, "I'll be going. I'll check up on you weekly, Sophia. If you need anything give me a call."

I nodded slightly, then looked at the floor, biting my fingernail nervously.

She handed Mrs. Tilly a card, then left as swiftly as she'd come.

Mrs. Tilly smiled at me warmly and I felt anger rise up in me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Mrs. Tilly." She replied.

Ugh. "No, I mean, who are you? Why am I here? They didn't exactly give me your record. You could be a criminal for all I know." I snapped.

Instead of taking it the way I'd intended, she found the situation rather funny.

When it wasn't at all.

"Oh, dear! I'm not a criminal," she said, laughing. "I work at a daycare."

Just like Mom.

She took a once over at me and smiled again.

"My, my. You sure look like Megan with that red Ariel colored hair and those baby blue eyes."

"You knew my mother?" I was surprised. Mom never mentioned anyone named Tilly before.

"Of course!! We went to college together. We were best friends. When she wrote her will, she stated that if anything happened to her and your dad, you'd live with me if you were underage, since you have no more grandparents or aunts or uncles. So here you are."

She walked closer to me and I swallowed, uncomfortable.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

"There's something I need to show you." I said, standing up.

I took off my hat, my boots, and my pants and looked at her as she reveled in my ugliness.

"Oh my.." She said, tears forming in her eyes. She pulled me to her and hugged me tightly, sobbing silently. "I'm so sorry."

That night, after dinner, I laid in the bed in the spare room, staring silently as the memory started to unfold again.

I didn't understand why this happened. My family was good people and they were all I had. Now I had nothing at all. I didn't realize that I was sobbing. I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. I turned on my side and went into the fetal position, crying for my family that would never come back. And as I cried myself to sleep, I realized the scars on my own skin were a punishment, a way to remind me of the own pain I'd caused. A daily reminder that this was all my fault, and there was no way I could ever change what happened.

Authors note:

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