Raised By Scar (18+)

The body remembers things the mind tries to forget, but sometimes, it's the mind that starts dragging the body back. One minute you think you're fine, and the next, a single sound, a touch, a word starts to peel back the layers you've tried so hard to bury.

It started with a laugh. Loud, careless, from the back of the classroom. I flinched. My pen slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, telling myself it was nothing, just a sound. But my fingers shook, and I knew it wasn't just the sound. It was what it reminded me of.

Later that day, Anna hugged me from behind. It was supposed to be a warm gesture, a happy one. But my body reacted like it had been shocked. I froze. She pulled back, staring at me like she didn't understand what just happened.

Are you okay?

Yeah… just cold, I replied too fast.

She didn't say anything else. She gave me space, but the silence between us held more weight than usual. She could feel something was wrong.

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even know how to start. How do I tell her that Josh touched me in a way I don't know how to explain? That I felt pain and something else? Something I still can't name?

But Anna sat beside me quietly and said, "Purity, can you tell me what happened? I'm here for you. I'm not going to judge you or blame you."

Her words hit me hard. No one had ever said that to me before — not at home, not in school. I grew up in a place where silence was how we handled everything, where pain was carried quietly, and talking about it was seen as weakness or disrespect. But here she was, offering me space and understanding.

So I told her.

I told her how Josh started getting close, how I thought we were beginning to bond, how his jokes became bolder. I told her about the strange questions he asked about my body, my age, whether I wore underwear, if my breasts were real. I didn't know how to react at first. Anna had told me to be comfortable around him. She said maybe he was just trying to connect.

Then I told her what he did.

I told her about the night he grabbed me. About how rough he was, how he squeezed and touched and didn't stop even when I begged. How he laughed afterward and called it "smooches." I told her about the confusion I felt —the pain, the shame, the part of me that froze and didn't know whether to scream or disappear.

Anna listened. She didn't interrupt. She didn't look at me like I was dirty or stupid. She just held my hand and said, Purity, you are stronger than I imagined. You inspire me. You're not spoiled. You're not damaged. Your body reacted because it was touched in a way it didn't understand. That's not your fault.

Her words gave me the strength I didn't know I still had. I hugged her. She felt like safety the kind I never got from home. She suggested I speak to Uncle Benny. She believed he would help if I opened up. I said I'd think about it, and I meant it.

After that day, I began to move differently. I wasn't healed, but I wasn't drowning either. I tried to return to the things I enjoyed. I paid attention in class. I stopped avoiding Anna's hugs. Uncle Benny noticed.

At dinner, he looked at me and said, "Purity, I see something has changed in you. You didn't want to talk before, but I'm glad you're finding your balance. This is your home now. I and Josh are here for you.

Josh looked up at me from his seat. His face was calm, pretending like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't crossed a line that left a scar I couldn't even name properly. He even smiled like he had no memory of the night. Like I imagined it.

I nodded. Not because I believed everything was fine, but because I had to keep moving.

Anna cheered me on at every small win, and I clung to that. Josh never brought it up. He behaved normally. No comments, no stares. Just quiet. Maybe he forgot. Or maybe he knew I wouldn't speak.

But in my heart, I knew this silence wasn't peace. It was just a pause before something else.

POV: Who would have thought that this calm was not the end of what happened… but the beginning of something worse?

The following week felt like I was learning how to walk again quietly, slowly, unsure if the ground beneath me would hold.

Every little thing became a test.

The way I sat in class. The way I laughed at a joke. The way I dressed.

Was I too open? Too quiet? Too soft? Too loud?

I started questioning myself more than I already did, overthinking every detail of who I was becoming.

Sometimes, I stared at my reflection longer than necessary, trying to find what changed.

Other times, I looked away, afraid that if I stared too hard, I'd see something I couldn't unsee.

Anna stayed close. She didn't hover, but she was there.

Some afternoons, we would walk without talking, just being.

She never tried to fix me. That was the part I loved most about her.

She didn't act like I was broken.

Uncle Benny kept trying to reach me too in his own way.

He'd knock gently on my door some nights and say things like,

Just checking in. Let me know if you need anything.

And I would say thank you, even if I didn't mean it at the time.

But Josh...

He acted like it never happened.

He talked to me the way he always did before that night.

He asked about school, helped with dishes, passed the remote when I wanted to watch something.

He smiled, laughed lived.

And that made it worse.

Because every time he acted normal, I wondered if I was the one who was wrong.

Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe I imagined how rough his hands were.

Maybe I made it all up to feel something.

But no matter how many times I tried to convince myself, I couldn't lie to my body.

It still flinched. It still tightened when he walked into a room.

It still remembered.

I didn't tell Uncle Benny. Not yet.

But I knew I would. Someday when the time is right.

When I stop carrying his silence like it belongs to me.

For now, I breathe, I live, and I wait

POV: Healing isn't loud. Sometimes, it's just waking up and choosing not to disappear.