This is the revised version by my teacher 8D
The Scar That Never Leaves
I was very different back then, not all quiet yet talkative like I am now. I use to be a troublemaker; well that is what other parents called me anyway. I was born and lived in Saigon, Vietnam for six years where that “certain” accident happened. Many awful things began to happen to me. Though it was just an accident, I can say it was a bad, yet good memory that I will always keep.
When I was five, I graduated from preschool to the first grade and there I thought it was going to get a little bit better. I was wrong, it was worse. Back then, the teachers did not have rules to keep them from hurting students so I would always end up going home with bruises. If I did not get bruises from the teachers, then I would get it from fights during lunch or break time. “Schools never ends without an injury!” my uncle would always say that to me. At the time and for as long as I can remember, I was a quiet and aggressive little girl. I got angry easily and willingly would start a fight with anyone. I always come home with at least one injury. It is a common thing for kids to be coming home from school. When I got home, I saw my brother waiting for me at the front door. He parked the bike next to the wall and waved at me, I walked over to him and said, “Hm?” Not much of a word, but that was how I talked back then. “Hey Thao, get on the bike, we are going to dì Loan’s house today.” I looked at him and asked, “Why?” he sighed and replied, “Because dad says so.” I just shrugged and got on the backseat of the bike. During our ride over there, I was being careless, as I usually was. I was sitting and I started swinging my legs back and forth. When we were almost there, I could see her waiting for us. Before my brother hit the brakes, I was still swinging my legs. Unfortunately, my left foot went right through the bike wheel and as the metal slammed my ankle, I screamed. When I screamed, my brother was startled and tried to regain balance by building up more speed only to tumble over. As the bike fell and as I fell down, the wheel hit the cement taking my foot along with it, I could feel my ankle twisting. There I laid in my own blood, screaming and crying as my aunt rushed to my side, pick me up, and quickly brought me to the nearest hospital. I stopped crying as soon as I got to the hospital. The doctor examined my leg and said, “Your daughter’s foot has been twisted to the left a little. There will be scars that’s going to stay there for the rest of her life.” The doctor then bandaged my foot and wrapped it around and put a cast on my leg. I walked home with my family using the crutch that the doctor gave me.
The next day was not so bad or what I thought it would be. I left my crutches at home so I had to limp to school. All the kids were surprised to see me in a state like this. The boys were very polite to me today; I guess it’s probably because they still have respect and pride. The teachers however, were very different, they do not have a single drop of pride at all. They are always the one who gives an injured person the most pain. I could not fight back either, it is against school rule and even if it was not a school rule, I still could not hit them since I was injured. I only got a black eye that day so it was not that bad. When I got home, I noticed that my sister was acting very weird. She would always glare at me and try to push me in any way she can. So now, not only did I get hit at school, I now got hit at home. I do have to admit—I was scared for the first time. Being attacked and unable to fight back, it made me feel so defenseless. When the doctor called to say that I was able to take off my cast I was so excited to take it off since it was getting on my nerves a lot. I took off the cast and bandages; I saw how much ugly my leg had gotten. There were scars that spread up to half of my knee and to my small toe. Even though the doctor warned me not to peel them off and leave it like that, my bad habit could not keep me back. I ended up peeling all of the scabs until I got to the middle. As I was taking one small little piece off, it felt like I was being stabbed by thousands of needles. The pain stung so much that I thought to myself, “You know what? I’m going to do it later.” And later, I did try again. The stinging pain was still there but it was not that bad as before. I finally peeled the entire scab off, leaving a red bleeding oval-like mark. I stood up and found myself some large bandages and wrapped my ankle with it.
It had been a week and I could not stand being near my sister anymore, she had been a little bit too much to handle, so I decided to go visit my uncle’s house. When I got there, my uncle stood there waiting for me, “Hey Thao, you haven’t visit me in a while, how are you?” I groaned and answered, “Not so good,” I pointed down at my bandaged leg. He gazed at it and said, “What kind of incident have you been in? Broke your leg or something?” I nodded and told him what happened. He said, “Ah, now explain to me why you decided to peel it off even though the doctor says not to and why did you come to visit me.” I told him, “I couldn’t stand my sister anymore and it was a habit, it looks so ugly I couldn’t stop.” My uncle was the only person I actually talk to, he was more of a brother than an uncle to me. “Say Thao, do you want to know the secret to not have the teacher hit you and somewhat make your life better?” he questioned me all of the sudden. I scoffed at him, “Why would I need that? As long as one person forgets their homework, everybody gets hit.” He chuckled a little and replied, “Well that is unavoidable but you can avoid getting hit daily by your teacher AND your sister.” The time he said sister, he already caught my attention. “You must not fight again, ever.” He said and look at me, seeing if I was still listening, “Try to be friendly and at least talk to people, or else they’ll just think you’re weird. For your sister, just keep quiet and do what she says. Older sisters do like to order the younger siblings around.” I thought about it for a second and looked at him, making a very bad smile. It was the first time I ever smiled at someone, it was very hard. He just laughed at me and handed me some coffee. I followed his advice and somehow it worked, it made my day a whole lot better. This was also the time where he introduced me to the world of the Internet. It seemed like my uncle always knows how to make things better.
After that, I finally stopped fighting, learned how to control my anger and became a better person, well kind of. During those times, I developed a fear of my sister, making it hard to interact with her in anyway. She had been mean and reticent to me ever since my accident and been mean ever since. Even though I try my best to talk to others, I never really had a chance to talk to strangers by myself. I become very shy when I am alone. However, when I look at this in the present time, I can only laugh at this like it is only just a joke and that the past is the past, but this memory is the only one I can actually remember in full detail. Even if I laugh now, back then I was crying. This is something that changed me a lot from who I am now and who I am back then.
good job!
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