Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Melody Claussen
Sacramento, California USA
Email Melody



On my left foot, there is a faint scar shaped like an elongated heart. It is fading with the years, but I'll never forget how I got it.
I was five and a daredevil. A tomboy. I asked my brother why I couldn't be a tomgirl, because it made more sense, but he told me that it was just tomboy, I didn't have a choice. When you're five and all of your siblings are older than you, you want to hang out with the older kids in your neighborhood and in order to do that, you have to play like the older kids. When I was five, Shawn Wrangle let me ride his ten-speed.
The bus let out the high school kids at 3:35pm everyday, and everyday the young ones would ride down to the bus stop to meet them so we could hear them cuss, watch them make out and be around in case a fight broke out. There was always something to see. For some reason, on this day in early June, my bike was out of commission and I was moping on the sidewalk, hoping someone would give me a pump. Shawn Wrangle saw me and told me to get on. For some reason, I was sitting sidesaddle, and my left foot dangled down on the right side of the chain. Shawn went around a corner fast and the skin on my foot got wedged in between the chain and the sprocket, ripping it off and stopping the bike.
Even tomboys cry when part of their foot gets ripped off and all they see is blood. I screamed loud enough to alarm the neighborhood. Everyone crowded around me to see the mess, but the part I remember most was when Mrs. Easa from across the street gave me an Otter Pop. Sir Isaac Lime.