A woman left for dead after being raped at nine years old, recently underwent surgery to remove scars the monster left on her forearm. He’d cut her in hopes she’d bleed to death.
The event so tormented her that she became a teenage addict who ended up in prison. In her late twenties she found treatment.
Then she fought to rebuild. Years of hard work took her from a GED to a PhD.
Yet the scars were there, a silent reminder of horror. Seeing them sometimes sent her into a tailspin of depression. So she saved money to remove them – maybe erase the memory
Then the bandages were off, and to her dismay, a red pattern remained – one that might never fade.
Now she’s wondering if more surgery will help. Or if she should simply accept what remains as a reminder that one can survive the most terrifying trauma and build a worthwhile existence.
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