Vanished Scars || G.D.

Chapter 1

Two types of scars.

Scars you can see. The ones where blood is coming out of your skin because you cut yourself somwhere or hurt yourself in a particular way.

If necessary you can put a band-aid on it and they'll heel and within time they fade away.

And then there's the second type of scars. The scars you can't see but hurt the most.

You didn't hurt yourself. Someone hurt you. Really bad.

He left these scars on me. And it feels like no band-aid can heel the scars he left.

No. I'm not talking about a boy like every other 18 year old girl woud.

I mean I actually am talking about a boy. But not in this way. I'm talking about my dad. Or how I like to call him ‚Jeff Clark'.

I've not once called him my dad since he left me. Me and my family.

It was the 6th of april.

It was the day when I heared my parents fight. Louder than they usually would. I secretly listend from the staircase.

„I can't belive you've done this to me, Jeff" my mom yelled. „Not only to me. To our kids. To YOUR own family" she added.

„Alice please. Let me expl-" Jeff, my dad, was cut off by my mother.

„No Jeff. I won't let you explain. It's enough. I can't take it. I don't want to see you ever again. I'll send you the divorce papers." I could hear her voice crack at the last sentence.

They continued fighting but Jack, my big brother, pulled me away in his room.

Considering that I was only 9 years old when all of this happened, my brother did a pretty good job on protecting me.

But I already new what was going to happen. I was clever enough to know I wouldn't see my father in a very long time.

It broke my heart into little peaces. It broke me. I lost the person i loved the most with only 9 years of living.

I went trough hell since this day. And I couldn't escape it. I feel like I'm still in hell.

My little brother Noah was 5 at the time but thank god he was at football practice. If he would've heard my parents fighting he would be the same mess as I am now.

We were a very strong family. But out of all of us I was the closest to my dad. I mean Jeff.

He taught me everything. He taught me how to play the piano. He taught me how to sing and many other things.

Ugh how I loved to play the piano. It carried me in another world. It made me relieve stress.

Jeff would sit beside me and listen.

He listened like there was not a single thing in the world he would rather do. He loved it.

He loved hearing me sing as well. He always told me I sound like an angel.

That's why he always called me angel.

That was his nickname for me.

He was my hero with an invisible cape. I wanted to be like him.

Since he left I haven't touched the piano. I tried to play it in the past but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It hurt too bad.