Carved in Scars

by Elle Mitchell

“You look like a porcelain doll,” Trevor says, sitting down next to me, flanked by Luke and Justin. “Well, I’m no doll,” I reply, my tone overtly harsh. I’m not a toy—certainly not his—and I would have broken a long time ago if I were fragile.

We all come into the world as blank canvases. And we leave it carved in scars—some we show the world and others that remain invisible unless someone knows exactly where to look—but they make us who we are, whether we want them to or not.

We come into the world as blank canvases—all of us. Innocent, eager for love. Then the world gets ahold of us and leaves us with scars we don’t deserve, that we never asked for. But like I said before,