About A Scar

A boy visits his grandfather and gets an unexpected gift. With this new ability, he finds himself in a dangerous situation. Will Dan be able to get back to his own time before dinner?

There is a scar on my right leg. Right in the middle of my calf. I remember the day I got it and god, it was awful. 

My name is Dan Ramos. I am 16 years old and I live in Ontario Canada, but I got this scar 2 summers ago when I was only 14 and visiting England to see my grandfather. My family went to see him every 2 years or so and so we are probably going to visit him again soon. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to forget what happened as of recent. Hopefully, this trip won't have me running for my life from crazy pioneers.

Ok, so here's what happened. We had just landed in Manchester and had been picked up by my Aunt Flo. Really, that's her name. Aunt Flo. Flo is my dad’s older sister by 4 years and nothing like what you picture when you hear someone say, Aunt Flo. She loves wearing bright colors that match whatever color she has dyed her shoulder-length hair. At the time it was bright green cut straight with bangs that almost covered her small brown eyes, but not quite. She was wearing a knee-length skirt and flat shoes the same shade of green, with a white blouse. She skillfully matched them with earrings and a neckless made of dazzling green emeralds.

My dad couldn’t have been more opposite. He was a scientist and dressed like one, wearing a navy blue button up shirt with crisp, clean and freshly ironed dark gray pants, and some practical dress shoes. He had the same small brown eyes as Flo, but he has short neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair and constantly had a stern look. The only thing that didn’t look quite professional of him was his beard, as he was always forgetting to shave. 

I was stuck in the back of Flo’s white Ford with my annoying little sister Jessica. She got her looks from my Dad. Meaning she had beautiful long brown hair and small brown eyes and was wearing a yellow and green sundress and small white sunglasses. I say she’s annoying because at the time she was complaining loudly that it was stupid of the people in England to drive on the wrong side of the road. Like she expected Dad to fix it for her. She had been spoiled her entire life and thinks she can get whatever she wants just by asking. And with our parents, it usually works. 

I was the eldest child, which meant I was supposed to be smart, and responsible and perfect. All I really wanted to do was stay out of trouble and listen to music. I hated going anywhere with my family, especially in England. I usually got strange looks everywhere we go. I take after my mother, meaning I look nothing like Dad, Jessica or Flo. I have short bright red hair and big green eyes. I have hundreds of freckles on my nose and cheeks and am usually pale as a ghost. Most people don’t think I am even a part of my own family, and for some reason, no one ever believes anything I say. I usually get blamed for anything that goes wrong, whether it’s at home or at school. This has turned me into a pretty grumpy person. I don’t mean too, but I always seem like I’m in a bad mood, even when I’m not. I don’t care anymore. I’m used to it. 

Anyway. We drove for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was probably only about 50 min. I will be honest, I don’t remember the name of the town my family lives in, but it was so small I doubt anyone has even heard of it. We pulled up to the care home that my grandfather lived in, called The Cherry Tree Home and Care Facility, and signed us all in at the front desk. Aunt Flo lead us through the peach colored halls, passed a few elderly who hobbled along, mumbling incoherently, until we got to Grandad's room. When we entered my grandfather was lying on his bed, watching a small TV that sat on a wooden table at the foot of the bed. A game show I had never heard of was playing and it didn’t really look like grandad was paying attention. We moved into the room and he finally took notice of us when Aunt Flo sat on the side of his bed and put her hand on his. 

My grandfather has dementia, so he is pretty much confused 24/7 and never understands what’s going on. But he loves company so Aunt Flo and my Nana make sure to visit him constantly. My grandad was only 77 at the time and my Dad always said I got my personality from him. Apparently, he always seemed mad about one thing or another, even when he insisted nothing was wrong. If I ever met him when he was like that I don’t remember. He has always been my crazy old grandfather to me. My grandad was in the army back in his youth. He had been stationed in Africa for years but never saw battle. When he came back, he talked about the culture and all the things he learned but started going crazy by the time he reached middle age. No one is sure why he snapped so young, but one day he disappeared for a week and came back talking crazy. He has been looked after ever since, either by my Nana, Aunt Flo and as of recent, the care home. He looked like my Dad more than Aunt Flo. Same square jaw, and small brown eyes. I knew from pictures that he uses to have the same hair, but now my Grandads hair was thin, short and pure white. 

He looked up from Aunt Flo to see us, and when he met my eyes his whole face lit up. I don’t know why but I’ve always been my grandad’s favorite. He uses to tell me, between random mumbling, that I would be very powerful. Not sure what he meant, but ever since he goes out of his way to pinch my cheek and mess up my hair. Maybe he just likes the color because it's so bright. Who knows.

We spent a few hours in my Grandad’s room, my sister taking over the TV, while my Dad and Aunt Flo caught up with each other and I was trapped by my Grandads grip while he mumbled on about random things (like time, animals, food and other stuff that I couldn’t make out) and pretending like I was very interested.

We decided to head to Aunt Flo’s house when my sister decided she was bored and wanted to eat. They all said their goodbyes to Grandad and as I leaned in to give him a small kiss on his old head (uncomfortably but I would get s**t if I didn't), when he grabbed the back of my head with the hand that wasn’t still gripping my wrist way too tight and pulled me in so close to his face that we were merely inches apart and eye to eye. For a terrifying moment I thought my first kiss was going to be stolen by my Grandfather (yes I haven’t kissed anyone before. I blame my red hair. Shut up). I could smell his old man breath as he stared intensely into my eyes. 

“Be better.” He said to me. His hand let go of my wrist and moved to the drawer of the bedside table to his left. He grabbed at the handle but was too weak to get a grip. Slowly, my Dad moved over and opened the drawer, picking up something wrapped in a white cloth. My Grandad made a grab for it, so my Dad handed it over. Grandad quickly thrust it into my hands and let go of my head, letting me get as far away from him as I could without looking like a jerk. “Be better, be better…” He muttered as we left. 

After signing out of the home's register in the lobby, we piled back into Aunt Flo’s car, all without saying a word. There was an uncomfortable and confused silence in the air as we pulled out of the parking lot. As we drove my Dad turned back to us and looked at the lump of cloth I still held in my hand.

“What did he give you?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. I opened the cloth carefully like whatever was inside might spill out. When I saw what was inside I was a bit disappointed. It was just an old golden pocket watch. I was hoping for something really cool, though I didn’t know what I really expected. The watch didn’t even look like it would be worth a lot of money. The front had a plain engraving of 4 circles within each other, each one smaller than the last, and in the smallest circle was a simple hourglass simple. It didn’t even have a proper chain, just a long piece of old brown string. I clicked the button on the top to look inside but it wouldn’t open. “It's just a broken pocket watch,” I said. Apparently, it came off very grumpy because Aunt Flo scoffed at me. 

“He hasn’t given anyone anything in a long time Dan. You might want to be a bit more grateful. The man doesn’t own a lot these days.” She said, glancing back to see the watch. “Though I have no idea where he got that. Remind me to ask at the home tomorrow. We should make sure he didn’t steal it from another patient.”

“Why didn’t Grandad give me a present!” My sister complained. “Daddy! I want a present too! Make Dan give me his!”

“No way!” I replied totally politely.

“Dan, if you don’t want it just give it to your sister so there’s no fuss.” My Dad said, not even looking back or thinking twice. Typical.

“No! Grandad gave it to me, and even if it is stupid there’s no way I’m giving Jessica something that’s mine just because she’s being a brat.” I said. This, of course, made everything worse. Jessica and I bickered back and forth until we reached Aunt Flos. 

She lived in a simple bungalow with 2 bedrooms, a living room, bathroom, kitchen and office area in the back, leading out to her vegetable garden. I was being forced to share a bed in the smaller second bedroom with Jessica, but I had made a mental note to sleep on the floor. My Dad took the couch in the office while obviously, my Aunt would sleep in her bed. After putting our luggage away we sat together in watching reality T.V. in the living room. My Dad and sister decided to take a nap, still feeling tired from the plane ride. Aunt Flo and I were both pretending to watch the T.V, but I was distracted and she seemed lost in thought. 

“Dan, may I see that watch a bit closer?” She asked.

I took the watch from my pocket and tossed it to her across the room. She pressed the button, and when it didn’t open she tried to pry it open with her fingers.

“It won’t work,” I said. “I’ve already tried.”

She looked over at me, a bit annoyed with my tone. I, of course, didn’t mean anything by it. It just came off that way. “Well excuse me for trying, Mr. Smarty pants.” She said. I didn’t even try to explain myself. She wouldn’t listen. She held the watch closer to her ear. “It doesn’t sound like its working. Looking at it closer, I think he might have brought this back from Africa. When he got back he uses to always wear a pocket watch, but I never saw him use it. He must really like you to give this to you like he did. Or he didn’t know what he was doing. Either way, you better take care of it.” She told me. I nodded. “We could get it some new batteries for you. And a chain.”

She stood up from her spot on the couch and handed me back my watch. I got up as well and followed her to the kitchen.

“I’m going to go and get some dinner before your father and sister wake up. Want to come?” She said kindly. As fun as that sounded, I really didn’t want to ruin the trip for her. 

“No thanks,” I said. “I think I’m going to go for a walk if that’s alright with you.” God, what is wrong with me. Of course, that came out sounding cold. Aunt Flo looked a bit hurt. 

“Alright, but don’t wander too far. I won’t be long.” She grabbed her keys and left. After she pulled out of the driveway I left the house and began wandering around the small town. 

I lost track of how many fish and chip places I saw, weird looks that I got, and the time as I walked but eventually I found myself at a large duck pond at the edge of town. There were a few kids running after some frightened ducks who were just trying to eat the breadcrumbs left by 2 old ladies on a bench beside the water. I walked to the bench furthest away from people and took out the watch again.

I had never seen my Grandad act the way he did when he gave me this. Once again I pushed the button down to try and open it. As I held the button down I dug my fingernail under the cover of the watch and pried at it again. This time, to my surprise, the watch popped open. I looked at the inside of the watch and saw that my Aunt was right. The hand of the watch was not moving. On the back of the clock face were two dials for the date. Even the date was wrong, but instead of the day of the week and day, it had the month and day. I figured that even if it doesn’t work I should at least fix the date. It was set about 2 months ahead so I pulled out the dial on the top and turned it back but noticed that the clock hands moved instead of the date. So I pulled the dial out one step further and began turning it backward again. Once the date was set I pushed the dial all the way back down. 

Imminent regret. It felt like the world just spun a million times. I fell off the bench and clutched my stomach, which was threatening to empty itself. As my mind stopped spinning, I regained my composure and stood up slowly. Suddenly the streets were empty. The kids and the old ladies were gods as well. What’s weirder was that I could see the sun rising. Confused, I pulled out my phone. 5:45 PM. There was no way the sun was just rising. 

Then I looked down at the pocket watch in my other hand. It was set to the right date but the time read 4:52 AM. That was about the time the sunrise would happen in England. I remember them telling us on the plane that the sun rose around 5 am here. 

This was stupid… Did I honestly believe I traveled almost 12 hours back in time!? 

Yes. Yes, I did. 

I was in shock and was completely amazed! Best gift from a crazy old man ever! I began examining the watch closer, trying to see if I could figure out how it worked. That’s when I saw it. Along the side of the watch was a small 4 digit turn dial with 2014 punched in. I could change the year too! I thought to myself, go big or go home. I turned the dial to 1614, to see what would happen. Then I set the date and time to something random in the summer around noon. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I pushed the dial back down. 

This time, I really did vomit. After I finished emptying my guts onto the grass, I curled up into a ball and clutched at my head. I don’t think humans were ever supposed to be that dizzy. 

After I calmed down, I pulled myself to my feet and took in my surroundings. The pond was still behind me but much smaller, and instead of being between farming fields and a busy town, it was in a wooded area. I walked around the pond, absolutely livid that I was pretty sure I had traveled back to 1614. I looked at the top of the trees and noticed smoke coming from a direction off to my left. Thinking there was still some sort of village there I decided to head towards it. 

After a while of just wandering, I made it into an opening at the side of a very small and old village. Or at least old to me. In 1614 this was probably a fairly young town. I wandered down a few roads, clutching my nose. It smelt like s**t. I noticed I was getting a lot more strange looks than usual. It was too late when I realized that it might not be just because of my hair.

A large gloved hand grabbed my shoulder and threw me around so that I was facing him. In front of me stood a large man in a simple steel chest plate and helmet, with long pants, big boots and a sword hanging from his leather belt. He looked like a brute and smelled even worse. His black hair could just be seen poking out of his helmet. Despite all this, he looked pretty young. in his early 30s, I would guess. 

“What do you think you are doing boy?” He asked me with a very offended and angry tone.

“Huh?” I cleverly replied. This was not the right answer. Not even 10 seconds later I was on the ground clutching the side of my face. He had given me a hard backhand slap in the face. After getting over my initial shock I looked at him, hoping my rage was coming through past the pain.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” I shouted. There were gasps from the small audience that had gathered on the street to see the strange kid take on the guard. 

“You will not take that tone with your elder’s boy!” He shouted with rage. He looked up and down at me and what I was wearing. I suppose it would have looked strange, a simple pair of jean shorts, white running shoes, and a Green Day t-shirt. Then he looked at my red hair and scowled. “Where did you find those strange clothing. Well, answer me!” He said giving me no time to answer. So I quickly shouted, “I made them!” 

I didn’t know what else to say, but apparently, anything other than that would have been better. The guard turned to the audience, which had gotten quite bigger. Then he bent down and grabbed my ankle. He began marching off towards the center of town, dragging me across the stone street, scraping my back the whole way. We stopped at a wooden stage and he grabbed my arm and pushed me up the two steps and then to center stage. The crown from the street had gathered around, bringing, even more, people. Soon the entire town was out to see what was going on. 

My back was on fire and I was freaking out. I had no idea what England was like in 1614, but apparently, they didn’t like creative red-headed boys. 

The guard grabbed my wrist tightly and held it in the air like he was holding me up as his freshly hunted prey. 

“I am accusing this strange boy of witchcraft!” He shouted.

“Whoa! what?” I shouted back, but my voice was lost in the crowd of people shouting and booing or just straight up screaming.

“He admits to the creation of the satanic clothing he wears and has the devils red hair! There is no doubt in my mind that the child is some sort of warlock!” The guard continued. “Is there any who wish to testify to the boy's innocence?” He asked. The audience suddenly got very quiet. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face and I swallowed nervously. I was trying to think of some way out of this crowd. If I could get away from everyone then I could use the watch to get home. 

My mind was racing at a thousand miles per minute. I figure it would be safest to do it back at the pond because I know where I will end up in the future. If I tried it now I might end up in a kitchen of a fish and chip shop or something. Suddenly a loud statement broke my concentration. 

“The penalty facing the warlock will be death by stoning!” The guard shouted. He let go of my wrist and jumped off stage and the crowd began to circle around. I was frozen to the spot. They weren’t really going to pelt me with stones until I died right. I got my answer when a rock got hurled towards my head. I ducked and heard it land in the crowd behind me. Soon rocks big and small were being hurled at me from every angle. Most missed but I got hit a lot too. Once in the back of the leg, which made me fall to my knees and another to the side of my head, making it hard to hear out of that ear. 

Suddenly I got an idea. I knelt down into a ball to try to become less of a target and took out my phone. I turned on the loudest song I had and played it full blast and turned the flashlight on. This was going to drain my battery but of course, I didn’t care at the time. People screamed and ran from the strange device I held in my hand. 

In the confusion, I jumped off the stage and began running towards the woods. After the initial shock of what I had done passed, the guard began pushing his way through the crowd to try and catch me. 

“After him! Don’t let the warlock escape!” He shouted. A few people heard him and began to follow me, but most were running around in a panic. By the time they figured out which way I went, I was already turning a corner. I was thankful that the town was so small, so I could easily see the woods I had arrived in. 

As I approached the last corner I quickly looked back, and I could see the crowd chasing me had grown but were still quite far away. A few were waving pitchforks and shovels in the air, and the guard himself had drawn his sword. 

As I was distracted I turned the corner and ran my leg into something leaning against the building. An Ax. Really?! It went right into my leg. A pain shot right up my spine and at the time I would have sworn that it hit bone, but in reality, it just left a nice hole in the middle of my calf. The fear of getting killed by the crowd behind me kept me running past what I realize now was a blacksmith shop full of all sorts of fun objects that could be used to kill me if I slowed down. I made it back into the woods and somehow found my way to the pond fairly easily. I yanked the pocket watch out of my back pocket and checked my phone for the right time and date. Once they were set, I turned the watch to its side and adjusted the year back to 2014. I then pushed the dials back down. 

I had completely forgotten how horrible the whole traveling part is.

I collapsed as soon as the world stopped moving beneath me and frightened a group of ducks who were walking by the pond to get some food from the old ladies still on the bench, now that the kids were leaving with their parents. 

If there was any food left in my stomach I probably would have thrown up again. I rolled onto my back as my head cleared. I was breathing heavily and soaked in sweat. I looked at the watch in my hand. It was set to 7:18 PM. I checked my phone (which was dying now that I turned the music and lights off) and saw that this was the right time. I had been gone for over an hour. Aunt Flo wound has been back with food, my Dad, and my sister probably already ate and they were most likely wondering where I was. How was I going to explain myself? No one would believe what I had to say. 

I could go back an hour and not be late. Or I could tell them the truth and I could just show them with the watch, I thought. Nah… I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want anyone else to use it either. You could cause some serious problems with a thing like this. Besides. My grandfather trusted it with me. 

“Be better.” He told me. Maybe he meant to use it better than he did. Maybe this watch was why he went crazy.

I tried to stand up and winced in pain. There was still a large hole in my leg and now my socks and shoes were covered in blood. I grabbed the wound, trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. As I thought about getting home and watched the blood drip down my leg, one thought was louder than the others in my head.

This was going to leave a scar.

Author's Note

Please give me your feedback! I am looking to improve my writing so any advice will be appreciated!

Reviews

[A.E]

Wow this is really good! I saw a few spelling errors but I didn't know if you cared about them at the moment. Also, the introduction is really good, but it might sound a little better if you didn't flat out say his name and age and where he's from. Maybe if you could sort of incorporate it into the story? Like have someone call out his name or something?

[Patrick Roach]

This is perhaps one of the best pieces of writing I've seen lately on this site

[Patrick Roach]

very nice writing and well written. I can see you going on to do greta things

[Patrick Roach]

very good writing nicely done