Scar Story
It was five years ago, I was 10 years old and had just started my second month of third grade. Back then, my grandpa picked me up every Wednesday on his motorcycle. After a short ride we stopped at a small convenience store to pick up an after-school treat when my grandpa dropped his wallet. To be nice and spare my grandpa bending over to pick it up I reached down to grab it for him. I remember leaning over the motorcycle’s smooth seat to pick up the soft warm leather and pulling my arm back up. That was when the skin just before my elbow on my fore-arm touched one of the pipes on the engine, an engine when running for a long time gets very hot, so when my arm touched the near 200 degree metal it made a small sizzling sound, and PAIN shot through my entire body. I fell off the bike and rolled on the rough asphalt writhing in pure agony, the scent of my burnt skin mixing with the thick scent of exhaust from the motorcycle. My arm felt as if it were literally on fire. It hurt so bad I didn't want to look at the wound, but I forced myself to look down as my grandpa rushed to my side yelling to see if i was alright, unfortunately I was not. The skin where the pipe had touched was mottled, bright red, chalky brown, almost like the top of an overcooked biscuit. This of course sent me into a fit of panic. “My arm will have to be amputated for sure” I thought as salty warm tears rolled down my face and into my mouth. The skin screamed at me as I moved my arm to get up, causing me to once-again fall to the ground. My grandpa picked me up and poured cool water over the wound, only temporarily sending a wave of relief over my burn. I tried to touch it to see if it was ok, hesitantly moving my finger forward, already feeling the heat coming from the skin below it. As soon as the tip of my finger brushed the surface, pure agony enveloped my entire being, almost making me pass-out and fall once again to the ground. Two painful and worrisome hours later, the burn began to form a large bubble over the red skin, filling with pus and only making me, and the burn feel worse. I cut some aloe-vera from our garden and rubbed it on the burn. The slimy, sticky, cool plant seemed to relieve all the pain. It felt as if the heat was oozing from the burn, but as I removed the plant the burn flared up back to its original state of annoyance. I quickly put the miracle cure right back on the burn subsiding it once again. For the next two to three weeks I dealt with the burn, never ceasing to feel better than when it was first inflicted. Every time the sun looked upon my wound it hissed and screamed along with myself. It turns out I suffered a second-degree burn, on the verge of a third-degree burn. Even after the bubble went away and the burned skin healed, it left an oval shaped scar roughly three inches long and one inch wide where the pipe had touched my skin. Ever since I never touch something before I know if it is hot, and I never play with fire because of that one day, the day I got burned.