I like to take long showers. Under the falling water, the mud that covers my body constantly disappears. They know that, so they don’t allow me to take long showers.
I like to make myself scars. I obviously don’t like the pain that it implies to make them, but I like to have them. The bigger the better. No, not in the wrists, that’s disgusting. On my chest, on my stomach.
Why? Because I like to see a physical proof that I’m fighting, that this horrible war isn’t just inside my head.
I like to see myself in the mirror to watch my scars. They comfort me, they tell me I’m still alive and fighting, that I’ve won some battles here and there.
My parents don’t mind them, but they forbid me to do them on my face. I tried to do it in my face once, to show the world that I’m fighting. They broke my arm, and threatened me. But I really want one on the face.
“All I’ve got left are my precious scars”