Scarred

Halle’s POV

I struggled to hold onto reality as Jessie guided me back to the hospital room where I'd been admitted. The nurses arrived to check on me, their faces etched with concern. Three months of coma had been a terrifying ordeal, and Jessie had found me lifeless in my room before rushing me here.

"Why did you hurt yourself, Halle? Because of a guy?" Jessie's voice quivered with worry as she questioned me.

The nurses urged me to open my eyes and mouth wider, for their usual checkup.

"It's not just any guy, Jessie. It's Dylan, the guy who promised to protect me—the first guy I truly loved since high school," I confided. "Only for him to confess he loved me out of pity."

Jessie's face softened with sadness as she listened. "Are you friends with me out of pity too?" I asked her.

"No, Halle. I'm friends with you because I choose to be. You're amazing, and I can't imagine losing you," Jessie reassured me,"Please, Halle, don't try to hurt yourself again. I beg of you."

Dylan's cruel words echoed in my mind. "He called me disgusting, an ugly duckling. What did I ever do to this world? I feel like everyone hates me," I confessed to Jessie, tears welling up streaming down my cheeks.

"He should have told me instead of cheating and embarrassing me. I saw him at the cafe with her. He pretended not to know me, called me filth, and left. I lost my job because of him," I lamented.

As I spoke, a machine beside me began beeping urgently. The nurses rushed in and out, Jessie staring at me, trembling. An injection sent me back into sleep, the chaos fading as darkness enveloped me once more.

Waking up to a throbbing headache, I discovered Jessie sleeping uncomfortably beside me. Jessie, my steadfast best friend of over 10 years, had been my unwavering support since our first meeting.

My childhood remains a haunting memory, the loss of my parents casting a shadow, and a massive scar now etched on half of my face.

Then there was Jessie,who I met in an orphanage home and has been a constant in my life. Struggling to rise from the bed, I headed to the restroom with a drip stand in tow. Trying not to disturb Jessie, I lifted it gently. She lay there, asleep, her hands wrapped around her head resting on the side of the bed,her chestnut hair obscuring her face. I tenderly tucked her hair behind her ears, aiming for her comfort.

Grabbing the TV remote, I changed channels until a disturbing news segment caught my attention. It was him—the man responsible for my pain, the one who molded me into this version. He was being interviewed and promoted at a conference. Dread and suspense gripped me as I watched, the echoes of his malevolence haunting me even from afar.

I started recalling his mocking smile from the night of the incident. That sinister grin, as I watched from upstairs, witnessed him mercilessly hitting my dad. The vivid memories of my mom's screams and the strikes he landed on her face haunted me. The same wicked smile adorned his face when journalists questioned him, and he waved casually.

How could someone be so cruel, yet people failed to notice? They all believed he was a good person. I increased the volume as he spoke, "The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate,and make a difference ,that you have lived and lived well." The crowd applauded him, showering praise. "Thank you, Mr. Izan. It's my pleasure to have such an amazing man like you. Estrella is very proud of you," someone expressed, and he stood up, acknowledging the admiration.

Boiling with anger, I couldn't contain myself. I angrily threw the remote to the floor, memories of the accident flooding back. Someone grabbed my hands, pulling me into a tight hug. The pain was unbearable, and I began to cry in her arms. The sound of the remote hitting the floor woke her up.

"It's calm, Halle. He really doesn't deserve that status," she reassured, turning off the TV. "You just need to stop obsessing over everything and move on with your life," she advised while hugging me and stroking my back.

"Stop obsessing?" I scoffed, breaking free from the hug. "This man is a murderer, Jes. He snuffed out my parents' lives. He's the reason I wear this pain like a second skin, and you think I'm just 'obsessing' over him?" I spat out, my words heavy with frustration and the ache of loss.

"That's not what I meant, Halle. I just want you to find happiness without the constant shadow of Izan or his accomplice Benjamin looming over you. Izan is merely vying for city manager; the position isn't guaranteed," she reasoned.

"He doesn't deserve to climb the political ladder, and Benjamin has no business being part of Estrella's corrupt council. They should be where my parents are—paying for the roles they played in their deaths," I asserted.

"Halle!" she exclaimed. "I know he's a murderer, but he doesn't deserve death. Nobody does. I get the pain you're carrying, but you have to find a way to break free and move forward with your life."

“I've applied for a transfer to Gleewood Arts. You won’t have to endure Estrella's college anymore, surrounded by all those bullies. Besides, Halle, you have a dream to pursue. With your beautiful voice, you can make a real change. So snap out of it, Halle."

"You applied to Gleewood Arts for me?" I asked, taken aback by the news. "OMG, but it's so expensive. How did you afford it, and what about the hospital bills?"

"Actually, when Dad planned to pay, we found out it was covered by someone else. I don't even know who he is; I never saw him. The nurses just told me someone covered the bills. So, I used our savings to apply for the transfer since it's your dream to be an amazing singer and perform on the biggest stage in the world."

"Jessie!" I exclaimed, tears rolling down my face. "But you've been saving for almost two years to travel to Paris."

"Look at the brighter side. What if attending Gleewood Arts has a purpose – to make you happy, useful, and make some difference that you have lived and lived well?" she suggested.

"Okay, fine. I'm still shocked from the news," I said. "But you need to stop quoting Izan's lines," I scoffed. "I'm going to Gleewood Arts!" I screamed. "But what if I don't pass my audition?" I panicked. "And I'll need some disguise to cover this huge scar on my face, so I can start a new life."

"Leave that to me," she assured. "Just promise me you'll try to be happy and leave everything for the universe to teach them a lesson," she pleaded.

"I promise," I said to Jessie, a soft smile planting on my face.