Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Genevieve Sage
Seattle, Washington USA



I don't remember how old I was, but I'd say I was about 8 or 9 years old. My sister, Lee, who is 2 years younger, and I had to share a room in our new house. It was a pretty small room and she slept on a pop-up trundle bed that could collapse down and fit under my bed. I was a big Crystal Gayle fan. Huge. I would listen to her ballads in my earphones at night and dream it was me singing in an impromptu concert for my 3rd grade class. I loved "Talking in Your Sleep," "Don't it Make Your Brown Eyes Blue" and others. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. On one particular rainy day, my sister and I were holed up in our room and I was listening to the sweetest love song of Crystal Gayle's, "If You Ever Change Your Mind," on my Fisher Price tape recorder and Lee started clapping, loudly and obnoxiously. I'm sure I told her to stop, but no, she delighted with glee at noisily RUINING my romantic moment. So, I jumped on her. From my bed, I leapt forward, lunging at her with full force. But the dodgy girl swiftly moved out of the way and behind her, where I landed, was an orange desk with brass corners. Sharp corners. My head hit into one corner, cutting my eyebrow and gushed blood. But I didn't cry (yet). I ran to my Dad and he took me to the bathroom to clean up the wound, which was really just a small cut, but when my Dad turned me to face the mirror, I saw blood covering my whole face, save for the eye-sockets and dripping at my chin. It looked like something out of Tales From the Crypt. I lost it. I started bawling and whaling like a banshee. But my Dad still didn't think I needed to go to the hospital. As a result I got my scar, which ended up taking the shape of an upside down "Y" in my eyebrow.