Scar

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is a personal fiction piece I wrote about my history. Me living there is real and the actions before the memory are too. The memory itself, however, is not real but based on other events and
feelings that led me to create such a "memory".


“Wow this is our place!” mom smiled big as she sat on the floor of an empty three bedroom house in front of the gas fireplace. “The house is kinda tilted you know.” I looked around disappointed as my mom sat next to me chopping into her royal burger. The house is on a busy street in a small town on the cost of Oregon. We ate our food with our five pets surrounding us, Jelly being my favorite. The Animals stared at us in our now light blue living room. It smells musty. It had five big windows letting lots of light through the shades. The streets bustled and continued through the day to the night. I stood and gave Jelly a pat on the head as I pulled one of the shades up and saw huge barge boats on the river below the streets. I could almost feel the air creep up her body like the day my dad came home many years ago. 
The peer full of Coast Guard wives and family’s chatting and waiting for the boat to get here. The air was cold and I remember the way my brother had picked me up over his shoulders so I could see more. There was something huge in the distance, covered in fog coming into the harbor. A boat. A big one. It was huge and full of men waving and running about. There he was atop a deck telling people to get ready for docking. Men scurried around doing their jobs so the men could go home to their family’s including him. The boat almost docked, ropes being pulled and hooked onto the dock. “Daddy!” I yelled squirming to get down and run to him. I ran to the ramp waving my arms in the air, my hair was wild in the wind. He turned around, his eyes softened after spotting me in the distance. The ramp ascended, I jumped on for dear life, tipping and landing on the ramp but stood and continued. I ran to him my arms out wide, I’m ready to jump. There he was waiting for me, smiling. He held me tightly in a bear hug, he looked down and saw a big gash in my leg that’s now a scar. I looked down and touched the scar on my thigh and looked out the window and shut the shade. I went back to my seat with my mom on the empty floor of a new but old town full of happy memories that have gone dark over time.


Submitted: July 19, 2018

© Copyright 2021 Zombies in Paris. All rights reserved.

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