Phantom Scars

A real life story.

Phantom Scar’s

Blood. Everyday sitting on my bed, staring into nothing, breaking free in intervals to notice my surroundings. Looking at my katana, or my short sword, even my pocket knife, I see the red sticky liquid dripping off of it. “I want to tell you something,” the blood wasn’t just any blood I was seeing, “but not right now.” It was my own. Their was no cuts on my body, no broken or cleaved flesh, what I saw wasn’t really their. That’s not to say however, that I had no scars.

“I care about you Steven, you shouldn’t have to feel this way.” That was my friend consoling me. Mentally, I was doing horrible, with no one to talk to, no one to count on, even psychologist’s would break down. “You have to forget about what happened, and move on.” That’s true, but forgetting pain isn’t the only way to go, just the easier way out. Talking to my friend, clutching my “scar”, all I could think about were those last few days.

“Why would you use our time together, which we have very little of anymore, for a test?!”, that’s me slightly screaming at my girlfriend after leaving the theatre for The Grudge 2. Perfection was us in everyway, no fights, complete understanding, but with time cut short, problems are only so far away. She would go on to say “I just wanted to know.” That’s borderline schizophrenia at work for you. Only a week later, we saw The Nightmare Before Christmas in Disney Digital 3D, a nice surprise since she never saw that movie. The night was like any other, spectacular, but it was only the calm before the storm.

I stare at a half empty bottle of some form of alcohol, rather buzzed, the blood is gone. For a month now, the blood I spotted on my weapons have disappeared. Clutching my “scar” still, I realize im slightly better, but still nowhere near my best. “I feel it would be for the best, you have nothing to worry about.” That phantom voice still haunts me however. Still clutching my “scar”, I started to wonder why I still wear it.

“Why do you always wear that one necklace? I never see it off of you”, my friend asked me. “Its my “scar”, her favorite necklace that she gave to me.” No one ever understands why I would still wear something of hers, even more so after three months. The reason isn’t personal, but everyone still raises an eyebrow when I tell them. “My “scar”, it’s a reminder, to never give all of yourself to someone, or the pain will become your life.”

Its been five months since the worst thing to occur in my life thus far has happened, and im finally over it. Finding new friends, finally having fun after five months of excruciating pain, its as if I’ve been reborn. New interests in women, new school plans, people to talk to and help, I was living again. I no longer wear my “scar”, but I can never lose the one on my heart, the one in my eyes. Looking out the window of my friend’s car, the only thing on my mind now is what im going to buy, not worrying about the blood, or the phantom voice, ever again.

October 28th, talking to my girlfriend on the phone, it’s a rather normal conversation. “Jeeze, I still can’t believe in only a few days, we’d be going out for eleven months!” I was ecstatic saying that. “Yeah,” I could tell something was on her mind. “I want to tell you something, but not right now.” That surprised me, “You know you can tell me anything, were all about honesty right?” Only a few moments later, “I want to go on a break,” I paused for a while, not knowing what we said next would throw me into major depression for over five months. “I feel it would be for the best, you have nothing to worry about”, I could hear it was a lie, “Who is he?”