“Sarah,” I called from the hospital room door.
She looked up at me. There was no happiness in her eyes. Her lips were pale, and her cuts & bruises were obscured by shadows cast by closed drapes.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“Sure,” she rested her head back.
As I got closer, the cuts upon her face became more visible; deep gashes from her left temple down her cheek – a crimson streak the led to the bottom of her chin.
I clenched my teeth and swallowed.
She said, “I’m not pretty anymore,” a tear streaked down her unmarked cheek. Her eyes were angry, now.
I said, “No you can’t talk like that. You’re still as beautiful now as you have ever been,”
“Do you see this!?” she shot turning her head to put the gash in full light, “I will have a scar for life. David has forever marked me,”
David: Once my best friend, before this.
“It’s the angel within your heart that I see. Do whatever you can to show people that you are not your skin!”
“I don’t know if I can, Chris” she cried
I took her hand, "I"m here, now."

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