A Case of the Writer's Block

What Scars Are For

I have no idea what this would be. But I had this title and summary stuck in my head so I figured I should try to write something down. Very little plot so far. I don't know if it's supposed to be a Narnia story or not, but it kind of sounds like it was going in that direction. But no one is named at this point in time because of this.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

Summary: They say time heals all wounds. But no one ever talks about the scars they leave behind. While the memories they carry can be painful, scars can be used for good.

𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍

"I'm too broken," she cried and the room fell silent at her broken admission. Everyone looked with pity at the small figure curled up on the cot. Pity she did not want and it only made her angry to see it. "Leave me alone!" she screamed.
"We only want to help," one tried to soothe, stepping forward. But the figure only shrunk away, causing them to halt their movements.
"You can't help me," she bitterly stated, but there was a sadness to it as well. "Please just go."

After one more regretful look, everyone left the room. As soon as the door was closed and everyone was out of sight, the figure broke down. She tried her best to hold back the sob, not wanting anyone to check on her. But everything was just too much. She was broken, bruised and even when those injuries healed, the scars would remain. A silent reminder of how she had suffered and that she was too damaged for anyone to fix. No one could ever love her.

𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍

"She's hurting," a voice whispered. "And I don't know how to help her."
"She has been through a lot," another comforted. "She needs to realize she's safe before anyone will be able to help her."
"But she doesn't think anyone can!" the first voice answered.
"It will take some time, but we'll show her that she can be saved."

They sighed and tried to hold the tears back. They had found her in the hands of vicious beasts, not worthy of being called men. Given her state they were able to conclude she had been with them for several months, if not years. But she wouldn't speak to them and tell them what happened. In fact, her sad admission were the first words she had uttered since they found her.

She had so many wounds and she was lucky to be alive. The physical wounds would heal, leaving scars but the mental... That would be much harder. Even then, she would carry the scars from the incident for the rest of her life. No one knew how long it would take for those injuries to heal, but they were determined to show her she was not alone.

𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍

Several days had passed and she was still refusing to see anyone. Even the physician had been turned away. Everyone knew that without medical intervention that she would not survive her injuries. She had to know it too. It was probably why she refused treatment—she had given up on living.

"We have to do something," a small voice said. "We can't just let her wither away!"
"I cannot treat her if she doesn't let me," the physician told them. "She's aware enough that she won't let me anywhere near her. And she's not eating either. I'm afraid she has just given up."
"There has to be something we can do!" they protested.
"I'm sorry," the physician said. "I don't know what else to do."

Silence stretched between the figures. It was broken a few moments later by the one leaning against the wall. Thus far, they hadn't said anything but their arms remained crossed as they listened to the other two talk. But after a moment, they seemed to come up with a solution.

"There may not be anything we can do," they said and all eyes turned to them.
"But—" the first began, only to be cut off.
"But there may be something I can do."
"What do you mean?"
"I know how she feels better than most... I may be able to talk with her."
Their face softened. "Are you sure? I know you don't like talking about it."
The figure nodded. "I don't... But in this case I think it might help."
"If you're sure..." they affirmed.

They merely nodded in response and pushed themselves off the wall. They looked a little solemn and hesitant as they headed for the door. The other two could only watch in silence. They knew the conversation that was about to occur would be hard. But none of them knew the details of what would be discussed.

𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍

They knocked on the door but received no response.