Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Long Beach, California USA



I got this scar on the back of my hand as a result of an 'accident' when I was 7. I was playing with a girl called Joanne Shingleton on the next street down from mine. It was a Cul De Sac and at the end of the street, there was this massive rain puddle. We found a couple of big bricks each and began making enormous splashes in the puddle. After a couple of throws, it was her turn, but my brick was still in the puddle. I told Joanne Shingleton not to throw her brick until I had picked up mine, but she lifted up her arms with the brick above her head threw it any way. It smashed on to my hand, breaking it and made a hole on top. I was screaming my head off and was running home, and she was chasing after me. She wanted to look at it, and ran in front and yelled 'oh my God, look it's all bubbling up!" she ran home after that I guess because I didn't see her again. When I got home, my family came running to the door, and my Grandma saw me first, and I fainted. When I came round, I was in the living room, waiting for my uncle, because he was the only one who had a car to take me to the hospital. I told my mum who I had been playing with, I was scared to tell because she had told me never to play with her. Her family had a bad reputation, and she was a naughty girl at school. I told my mum that I thought she had done the brick to me on purpose, and I still do, I went to the hospital lots of times, because when the cast was removed, I had to have bandages on my hand because the hole wouldn't heal, every time they took the bandage off, it opened the scab. The scar resembles a burn, and I have spent my life telling people who ask, that it isn't one.