The Scar

‘The trickles of water fell at a rapid pace, as it broke the peacefulness of the crystal teal basin. This basin sat hidden behind the thickness of mossy Amazonian trees in the compact dense forest of South America. It’s home to the multitude of diverse beasts and creatures that live there. This basin sat hidden until a girl exploring this forest stumbled upon it exhausted from a long day of hiking.

“I’m exhausted,” she said.“And sore. Great Natalie.”

She exhaled a breath, as her own feet unwillingly dragged her to the edge of this hidden crystal teal basin, she stumbled upon. Bending down to ground level her hand touched the ever so porcelain-like body of the basin. Once her hand touched the basin, an earthquake belched from the bottom of it. With a yelp, she knew she disrupted the flow of something. Looking at her surroundings, she saw the small meticulous petals of Egyptian mystic hibiscus and an abundant thicket of neomarica walking iris that sat on the right side of the waterfall. While on the left tightly compacted leaflets of rouge beacon roses grew in its bush. What sat in the middle of these beautiful things was a crystal-clear teal lagoon that sat peacefully while the occasional downpour of water broke it.

She takes another deep breath.

“Okay, Natalie you can do this,” she told herself.

Ever so slowly she stripped herself of her clothes and began proceeding to enter the water.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered.

With that said, she submerged herself into the water and became one with it. Swimming around she felt a sense of warmth within her and the water. Then suddenly everything happened within the blink of an eye. She felt herself being pulled underwater, and as she tried her best to fight what was pulling her. She had no strength to fight it.

Then she felt something or someone cut her left leg. With a howl in pain, she started rapidly kicking her feet to getaway. Then with a final kick to whatever it was, she hurriedly swam out of the pool and hoisted herself onto an impenetrable soil filled with dirt and bugs. She crawled to her bag as dirt, rocks, and jagged edges of sticks stuck to her wet body. Finally reaching the cobblestone her bag was on, she pulled herself up. Now sitting on the rock she looked at the cut she had on her left leg.

“Great, great, great, Natalie,” she exclaimed. “ Just great!”

Looking into her bag she found her first aid kit.

First, she cleaned the fresh-cut with disinfecting wipes, then she applied some rubbing alcohol on the cut. As the alcohol seeped through her skin, her leg felt the sting of it, she hissed as a result of the newly found pain. Next, she got a bandage and wrapped it around the cut on her left leg. Lastly, she dried herself off best as she could, then she got dressed and put back on her shirt and shorts. Getting up from the cobblestone she limped away from the once hidden crystal teal basin. She once hoped this basin would help her relax after a long exhausting day of hiking but she was wrong. It ended up giving her a scar that would forever lay on her left leg.’

A trickle of sweat dripped from her forehead as Natalie thrust herself upward from her bed. Fear covered her like a blanket, as she blinked rapidly. Looking around her room, she saw the hacked blush paint that lay upon each of the four walls of her bedroom. As well as the torn tape of a Selena poster that was barely hanging. The chiseled ebony shelves hung on each wall, holding faded trophies from elementary school. Or they were holding books only she had read in middle school like “Diary of Wimpy Kid,” by Jeff Kinney. She looked down at the floor to see clothes flung across the floor like mini models of the Appalachian mountains.

After looking around her bedroom she laid back down. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled to regain control of her breathing.

“It’s okay, Natalie,” she said to herself. “Breathe, it's just that recurring dream.”

Opening her eyes, she looked to the ceiling, hoping for some escape from the nightmare. A slight breeze flew through her window as her perspiration and desperation sunk into the coolness of her silk magenta sheets, that she laid on this night. The beam of moonlight lit her magenta silk sheets.

She ran her left hand through the thickness of her curly caramel and tawny hair. Lifting her head ever so slowly she looked down at her legs covered by fear, angst, and magenta sheets. With one swift motion, she lifted the sheets to see that her left leg had a rouge pink pale lining of the cut she had imagined in her dream. Yet as she looked at her left leg, the moonlight beamed on it to show the scar that matched the winding wound she’d imagined in her dream.