Posted by Mrs. Emery
Prompt: Tell the story of a scar, whether a physical scar or emotional one.
Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments!
Posted on September 22, 2016, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.
THIS IS FANFICTION, I DON’T OWN THE CHARACTERS (sorry just had to put that) yay prompts!
Jane Shepard never was one for reflection but today it seemed necessary, so much had happened since she had been brought back to life. She had gained so many scars over the years, some were worse than others. Some even kept her awake at night, like having to choose between Kaidan and Ashley on Virmire, they had tried to tell her that it was alright, that it was the right thing to do but that didn’t make it any better. In the end she had left Kaidan behind, she still got pitying glances from her crew, though they hadn’t seen it happen, even though they hadn’t been there. Tali, Joker, Liara, they all felt bad for her. But she didn’t want that. She was pulled from her thoughts by EDI’s voice playing over the intercom.
“Shepard, Garrus is at your door, should I allow him to enter?”
“ Go ahead EDI”, In truth she was glad for the interruption, Garrus was the only person on her ship that didn’t pity her. He was one of the few that been with her when she had made the call. He knew the toll it had taken on her and he knew it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.
She smiled when she saw him enter. He looked awful; he was still recovering from a close call on the field. Thankfully his mask had taken most of the blow but he had still taken heavy damage.
“You look terrible”, His usually sarcastic demeanor had been replaced with a look of concern.
She smirked, “Not any worse than you do.”
He chuckled, and then winced in pain,” Don’t make me laugh Shepard, my face is barely holding together as it is but hey, some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you most of those women are Krogan.”
She couldn’t contain her laugh, only Garrus could make the best of his situation…
Eventually they both fell asleep on the couch, after hours of swapping stories, trying to keep the others scars at bay, laughter drowning out all of their sorrows and fears .
Woohoo for prompts again! Good to be back!
Things hurt; that is forever a given. That seems to be the piece of knowledge no one can escape.
Scars act as a reminder of those givens; a piece, of a fragment, of a morsel of the pain. There was a instance in his life, where no scars were bare on him. He was blank as a white piece of paper; no rough edges, no lines scribbled. Yet a day approached him in his adolescence where he suffered the worst scar he’ll ever come to experience. He was on the phone with her, listening to her silence, hoping what was playing in his head wouldn’t sing out of her mouth; he guessed wrong. The words didn’t hit him like bricks or knives; rather they were an earthquake that shattered a crevice into his being. He hit the red button, ending not only a conversation but a time in his life. And the only reminder he will have is the divide, caused by an earthquake, manipulated by a woman.
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