Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Kristin Hess
Washington, USA



It's not a fond memory of how I obtained this scar. It's not anything I am proud of, and usually when people ask how I got it, I lie. Since it happened it's shrunk in length by about an inch, in width and it's not as high off the back either. It was April of 1999 and I was 14 years old hanging out at one of my good friends' house with a group of close friends. My friend's older brother happened to be home as well with some of his friends, all of whom were upper classmen at our high school.
We weren't model teenagers, although we attended school, got the grades and everything (well at least I did) outside of school we drank, smoked and hung out with the older crowd. That's exactly what was happening the night I got this shameful mark. I don't remember the beginning, some of the middle, and most of the end.
We had been drinking vodka from the liquor cabinet in the garage, and after we had put it away I made my way out for more. My friend's brother was out there with his friends playing his instruments; drums, bass, piano, etc. I made my way over to the vodka and chugged as much as I could stand from the bottle. That's about where I forget everything.
Music was playing I think I took my sweatshirt off? Somewhere along these lines I fell, I was told into the drums, but I don't remember.
The next thing I remember is being thrown into a shower, being extremely cold, and waking up at a different friend's house. I had never been there before and I was beyond confused. Hearing the story of what happened and then seeing the cut down my back changed my attitude quite a bit about what I had been doing. The worst part was having to come up with a story to tell my mom 3 days later when we went to Hawaii and she saw it. I don't know if she believed me entirely, and I don't think it matters what I tell anyone. It's on my back for life; it's a constant reminder of my mistakes.