Some people say that everyone has something unique, like a story to tell, or something physical, that they can hold… but, I have something different, I have a scar. My scar is not like any small scar, my scar, is humongous, and stretches right across my inner arm.   Many of my friends tell me not to be ashamed of it, but I am. I can’t help it! Every time, I look in the mirror, or every time I write something on just a piece of paper… I have to face the ugly scar. I know, that even though I wish, or hope that it will just disappear, it never does or will!

Now, let’s start at the beginning, you are probably wondering, how did I get the scar? It is quite an interesting story.

One day, I was walking home from school, we live in the outskirts of a small town, so the walk home usually takes about 20 minutes, since I have to walk through a forest. I was walking through the forest, casually kicking sticks off the footpath, when I heard a strange scraping sound! The strange unfamiliar sound was coming from the other end of the forest! I looked around, one part of me wanted to be sensible and stay on the path, but the dangerous part of me wanted to go and explore deeper on the forest, unfortunately, the dangerous part of me took over. Oh how I wish I never went to explore!

I looked around, to see if anyone was there, and frowned. Nobody was around. I swallowed, and walked off the footpath, to the scraping sound. The leaves crunched underneath my shoes, as I walked deeper inside the bush. Even though it was a warm day, I shivered and tried to hide my goosebumps. The scraping sound soon began to get louder and louder, and soon I appeared in the clearing, where I saw the most unexpected sight! My jaw dropped, and I stared at the monster.

No, it was not exactly a monster that was making the scraping sounds, it was a horrible, poor, old man, scraping a knife in his hands! I tried to scream, and run away, but there was a lump in my throat, and for some reason, I could not move my legs! I stood there, breathing in, and out, staring at the old man. “Hellooooo,” he said, giving me an evil grin, sending shivers down my spine. “You can come closer, if you want… maybe we can become friends?” He asked. I gulped, and finally managed to squeak, “Umm… uh, I uh didn’t uh come here uh I think I made a mistake!” and tried to run away, but the old man grasped my hand, and pulled me back!
“A mistake, huh? I don’t think you made a mistake from coming here.” He said, in a scary voice. Tears started pouring down my face, This is going to be the end of my life! This old man is going to kill me! His probably a serial killer! I thought, struggling to get his dirty hand of my arm.

My life flashed through my head, my family, my friends, my pets! No! I thought, this can’t be the end of my life! There must be some miracle! Someone must come and save me! I thought. Finally, I managed to gather up my courage, and with all of the air in my lungs, I screamed, “HELP! SOMEONE COME!!!!!” And then, I blacked out.

I woke up, with a horrible, bright light shining in my eyes. I sat up, blinking and stretching, I was absolutely confused, and I didn’t understand where I was. Finally, my eyes adjusted to the light, and I realised that I was in a hospital in a nearby town. I recognised this place, because I came here when I broke my arm! My parents and Amelia (my sister) were next to me, crying and telling me that they were so grateful that I was alive! I frowned and asked them what happened, and what they told me, shocked me SO much!

Apparently, a man called Mr. Jones heard my scream, and came to my rescue! He found me with the strange poor man,that turned out to be a REALLY BIG WANTED SERIAL KILLER! And all of the police in Australia are looking for him! Mr. Jones found him with a knife, cutting a symbol or something in to my poor arm! He quickly fought the serial killer, thank god he’s a fit and strong man, and called the ambulance and police to quickly rescue me. I was taken to the hospital, in case of too much blood loss.

Now, I am fine, but I have definitely learnt not to let curiosity take over me! I thanked Mr. Jones SO much, and gave him a box of home-made cookies that I made, to show him how much I owe him. I am definitely grateful that I am still alive! The wanted serial killer is now safely in jail, in a big city, where he cannot escape from, and I am with my family safe and sound, in our cosy house! Phew! I hope that I definitely do NOT have this horrible experience again, and that the rest of my life will be peaceful!

So now you know how I got this unpleasant scar, and please tell me whether I should be proud, or ashamed of it, because I am stuck with this question for the rest of my life!