The Scar
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror at school and counted the seconds before I looked away. That's how long it took for the part of me that hated what I saw to win. Eight seconds. I timed it because timing things was one of the few things I was good at. Not the face part—I was not good at the face part. My birthmark covered the left side of my jaw, a patch of dark skin the color of strong...
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