Battle Scars!

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Probably fell or something. I don't remember.
 
Back when I was a wee little tomboy in seventh grade, I was playing two hand touchfootball with the boys on an asphalt parking lot. The dress code for my school had us wearing penny loafer and saddle shoes, the most slippery soled P.o.S shoes ever made. I had the ball, one of the guys went to touch me on the back and pushed a bit too hard. Needless to say I left a trial of blood from the parking lot to the nurse's office, and spent over an hour having the nurse pluck tiny pebbles out of my knee, but I can honestly say that is my only accidental battle scar. The others are from surgeries.
 
Apparently, when I was either two or three, I was said to have "Banged my head on a wall" repeatedly for some reason to the point that I required medical attention and left me with this scar on my forehead, which is total bullcrap. Yes, I have the Harry Potter scar on my forehead but it's complete nonsense I tell you!!! The only possible explanation is that I was some sort of super genius and my parents feared what I would become, so they picked me up banged my head against a wall until I could not remember. I mean like what other reason would a two year old baby "bang his head on a wall"? I've babysitted babies before and for the most part, they don't even seem to know what they're doing. You might not believe it but I'll prove it one day, so just you wait!!!!
 
I got mauled in the face by a dog when I was eight and have scars all over my face from it, two obvious ones on my lips, by my nose and on my eye.
*looks on in horror*

This is why I have a fear of dogs.
 
When I was 3, I was playing under my grandmother's piano when one of the legs decided to commit sudoku.

The piano fell over.

The piano fell over me.

Multiple fractures on my left arm. Was forced to undergo painful therapy where I would kick and bite anyone who went near me like a little demon child.
 
When I was 3, I was playing under my grandmother's piano when one of the legs decided to commit sudoku.

The piano fell over.

The piano fell over me.

Multiple fractures on my left arm. Was forced to undergo painful therapy where I would kick and bite anyone who went near me like a little demon child.
Oh my gosh! That's awful! It must have been so scary for you!
 
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I have a lot of scars.

5 small ones on my stomach from my stomach surgery, one right near the base of my neck and one on my right bicep- those are both from mole removals that could turn cancerous, I have a faint scar running from the corner of my nose to the corner of my lip- that's from my brother and I sliding on beanbag chairs and me hitting the corner of the wall, I have scars on my fingers from various burns here and there, I have scars from scratches from dogs and cats alike. I used to have really bad scars on the soles of my feet that eventually wore away- because I walked barefoot into a creek near my school, slipped on a rock and pretty much skewered my feet so bad on twigs and sharp rocks that my scream got the attention of my my shortest coach who carried me to the nurse while I bawled like a child, blood oozing from my feet- it was bad. Wore away scars on my palms from bad choices in friendship.

Somehow I DIDN'T get a scar from getting gouged in the forehead with a damned stiletto boot. Small miracles?
 
One of the stories isn't mine. When we were very young, like, two to three years old or something, my sister was on this rocking horse and fell off and split her mouth open. She still has a scar there from stitches, but it's not really that noticiable. I think my grandmother still had it until a few years ago.

When I was like, seven or eight, I was swimming in a pool and being the moron that I was, I was swimming above water with my eyes closed. I didn't really check to see how close I was to the edge but next thing I knew I smacked my face against the edge of the pool (it was pure concrete I believe) and chipped my tooth a little. I didn't really cry or anything, but it did hurt. My uncle and cousin never even noticed ;A;

I didn't scar from this, but when I was younger I was sitting in a room at my grandma's house that used to be a bedroom, and above the bed were these wooden shelves. I stood up forgetting that they were there, and got these long scratches from the sharp edge of the shelves. Later my sister did the exact same thing but got less pity than I did for some reason.

Around the third grade, I was running up and down my driveway on my scooter (The kind that is like a smaller skateboard, with a handle on the top) with my sisters, I decided that I wanted to be like the cool kids and turn my steering and front wheel really fast while going straight. Not only did it not work, but I feel right off the scooter. I learned not to do that again.

In first through third grade I had this habit of once I year, I would trip somewhere and scrape up both knees really badly. I remember hearing the bell to signal the end of recess and I ran with a bunch of friends in a race to get to line first. I tripped over a raised up crack, scraped off both knees, and a girl tripped over me and fell on me, rolling off. Oh it hurt so bad, and I was crying forever.

Freshman year of highschool I learned the hard way to put sunscreen even in places I didn't think I'd need it. We went to the beach in California for a band trip, and I was wearing flip-flops. I didn't think I'd need to put sunscreen on the tops of my feet, but when we went to perform later that day I noticed that the tops of my feet were really warm. Like, radiating heat. I also got dehydrated and had to get water from the Starbucks in the hotel we were staying at. Later I learned that the tops of my feet were super sunburned, and it was utter hell when I had to shower. I like hot showers, and even warm water was agony. I couldn't walk right after and had to be helped to my bed. It was awful. Always put sunscreen on your feet.

Also, somewhere around preschool and kindergarten, I had these little angel dolls. I adored one because it was so pretty and small (eventually my mother sold it and I was so unhappy. I still am.) but the other was deformed. For some reason it had both arms on one side. For some stranger reason it still had the needle in it. Probably unfinished and my mother probably had plans to fix it. Well, I was walking into my room with my parents and sisters (this was back when I still shared my room) and next thing I know I step right onto the needle. It hurt so bad and I was so pleased when my parents threw that doll away.
 
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One of the stories isn't mine. When we were very young, like, two to three years old or something, my sister was on this rocking horse and fell off and split her mouth open. She still has a scar there from stitches, but it's not really that noticiable. I think my grandmother still had it until a few years ago.

When I was like, seven or eight, I was swimming in a pool and being the moron that I was, I was swimming above water with my eyes closed. I didn't really check to see how close I was to the edge but next thing I knew I smacked my face against the edge of the pool (it was pure concrete I believe) and chipped my tooth a little. I didn't really cry or anything, but it did hurt. My uncle and cousin never even noticed ;A;

I didn't scar from this, but when I was younger I was sitting in a room at my grandma's house that used to be a bedroom, and above the bed were these wooden shelves. I stood up forgetting that they were there, and got these long scratches from the sharp edge of the shelves. Later my sister did the exact same thing but got less pity than I did for some reason.

Around the third grade, I was running up and down my driveway on my scooter (The kind that is like a smaller skateboard, with a handle on the top) with my sisters, I decided that I wanted to be like the cool kids and turn my steering and front wheel really fast while going straight. Not only did it not work, but I feel right off the scooter. I learned not to do that again.

In first through third grade I had this habit of once I year, I would trip somewhere and scrape up both knees really badly. I remember hearing the bell to signal the end of recess and I ran with a bunch of friends in a race to get to line first. I tripped over a raised up crack, scraped off both knees, and a girl tripped over me and fell on me, rolling off. Oh it hurt so bad, and I was crying forever.

Freshman year of highschool I learned the hard way to put sunscreen even in places I didn't think I'd need it. We went to the beach in California for a band trip, and I was wearing flip-flops. I didn't think I'd need to put sunscreen on the tops of my feet, but when we went to perform later that day I noticed that the tops of my feet were really warm. Like, radiating heat. I also got dehydrated and had to get water from the Starbucks in the hotel we were staying at. Later I learned that the tops of my feet were super sunburned, and it was utter hell when I had to shower. I like hot showers, and even warm water was agony. I couldn't walk right after and had to be helped to my bed. It was awful. Always put sunscreen on your feet.

Also, somewhere around preschool and kindergarten, I had these little angel dolls. I adored one because it was so pretty and small (eventually my mother sold it and I was so unhappy. I still am.) but the other was deformed. For some reason it had both arms on one side. For some stranger reason it still had the needle in it. Probably unfinished and my mother probably had plans to fix it. Well, I was walking into my room with my parents and sisters (this was back when I still shared my room) and next thing I know I step right onto the needle. It hurt so bad and I was so pleased when my parents threw that doll away.
Those sunburns are no joke! It reminds me of another injury I forgot about. Not quite a sunburn but I was riding a mechanical bull on 4th of July. I was doing pretty well and stayed on for quite a while. It wasn't until I got off and started walking around that my foot really started hurting. Weeelll they had the bull in the sun, I was wearing flip flops.. yeah. I didn't realize it was burning my foot till I got off. It was blistered for days! Ugh
 
When I was a kid, I apparently was futzing around on a concrete bench and slipped and cut my bottom lip open on the inside.

I also dropped a chair on my foot while cleaning my living room.

Also I've got this huge hole in my head from that one time I realized I was being stupid with the Reapers and Shepard convinced me to kill myself, but we don't talk about that.
 
I have three major ones.
Chick pox scar right in between my eyes on the bridge of my nose.
A small scar on the left underside of my chin from where I fell 6 feet onto a shovel as a kid.
A jagged scar on the left side of my right index finger near my knuckle where I cut it with a cheese knife when moving out of my ex girlfriend's house.
 
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