The Spirit 3 | Page 15

My Scars

by Elizabeth Kaspar

I have grown up in fear. Fear of my story. The story behind my scars. The scars that cover my body. The ones made by society. Some have healed, while others grown deeper. The fights, stereotypes, and the backlash for being yourself. I have been raised and expected to act, or look a certain way. To do things like this and not like that. That being different is not okay that . . . that. I cannot say, I am given no choice, and no words. I only have the ability to cause natural disasters to try and make humans work together, but it never works. I have said too much. My scars, I did not choose, nor did I want them, I have been given my scars to help, to help heal society and show them what their world truly looks like and what it could look like.

My scars show the corrupted, mistreated, and taken to heart stereotypes that are destroying their world right from beneath their feet and nothing is being done. Nothing is being done, because humans are to blinded by their self-centeredness, opinions towards other, what other think of them, and the feeling that they have to be right and do not do anything to change that. But by the time they are ready to change it is going to be to late, the world, the society will be to far gone, for humanity to fix what has been broken, forgotten and hidden for years. To fix this broken world, humans need to take these steps together, but to get all humans to do this, one brave person must start the chain reaction that could save me. The steps that need to be taken are, showing people the stereotypes, speak up against them, let the world know what happen when they are taken to far, be a living example and show people that they do not have to follow them. Do these things and my scars will heal.

Most of them at least.

The wounds will heal but the marks will always be there, in

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