Scarred Souls: the Scarred collection

Scarred

Can two scarred souls make each other whole? 

Damian

I’ve never given thoughts to any relationship with anyone. All I want is to start medical school and keep full focus on my education. At least, that’s what I used to want. Meeting Josh one rainy night changes everything.

Josh

All I’ve ever wanted is someone to love me for me; without caring about my past or my scars or my personality disorder. But since I’m scarred both inside and out, used and abused by the person who was supposed to protect me, who can ever look past my exterior to see what’s underneath?

Wounded

Life’s about to take one hell of a turn. 

My life’s been nothing but a struggle. The last three years, however, have been better. I’m in a committed relationship—like, hey, how did that happen? I’ve got several friends—good ones too! I’ve got my family—such as it is. Everything’s good, but it’s all shattered when my stepfather’s released from prison.

I know him better than anyone. I know he’s vindictive. I know he hates e for putting him in prison for years. And I know someone’s following me around, always out of sight. Everyone says I’m paranoid, and maybe I am, but what if he’s out there to get me?

These books contain depictions of self-harm and suicide attempts, flashbacks to abuse, and mentions of abuse and non-consensual sex.

February 24, 2017

Arctic Circle Press

113K

465 pages

Excerpt

Our meeting was, in hindsight, rather disturbing.

Rain poured down, and I had cut across Soho Square Garden to get home quicker when I saw him sitting on the grass. His knees were drawn up and his face was buried in the palm of his hands. He was soaked all the way through, and I could see, even from a distance, that he was trembling.

He sat under a tree, but it didn’t give him much shelter from the rain. The streetlight next to him flickered on and off, making the entire setting eerie. I glanced around, but I was the only person here besides him.
I reckoned that was to be expected when it was past eleven at night and the weather was shit.

Even in the middle of London.

I looked back at him.

I couldn’t leave him there.

Not when he was so distressed he was voluntarily sitting outside in the rain clad only in jeans and a thin, long-sleeved jumper.

I walked over, slow and hesitant. He didn’t move as I approached, even though he had to hear my squishy steps in the wet grass.

Only when I stopped at his side and held the umbrella out to cover him did he react.

He lifted his head and peered up at me. Blond hair, darkened by the rain, was plastered to his skin and his eyes, such a brilliant green they startled me, were red and swollen. I realised with a start that he’d been crying. Probably still was. I didn’t believe for a second that all the drops on his face were from the rain.

“If you stay like this you’ll get sick.” It wasn’t the best thing to say, for sure, but then I’d never been good when it came to other people.

He sniffled and ran a hand over his face. Not that it helped much, as his hand was just as wet as the rest of him. “I c-can’t go h-home.” His teeth chattered so badly I had a hard time understanding—but I caught what he’d said, and his words made me fidget uncomfortably.

I couldn’t leave him out there. He’d end up with pneumonia or do something to endanger himself. He seemed distraught enough to be capable of it. I couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away and leave him to his own fate.

“Why not?” I looked around again. There was still no one else around. “You should go home.”

He shook his head fiercely. “I can’t.”

I looked around for the third time, more anxious now. It was getting late, it was cold, and it didn’t look like the rain was about to ease up anytime soon. “Don’t you have any friends you can go to?”

“No.” His voice was only a murmur. “I don’t have any friends.”

I pursed my lips uncertainly. “You can’t stay out here. You’ll get pneumonia.” I’d had that once, and it had not been fun. “I guess you could—“ I cut myself off to swallow, hard. “You could come with me. I live right across the street.”

He looked up at me, a strange gleam in his eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” I wasn’t, not at all. But if I left him out here, and he had nowhere else to go… I couldn’t do that. I didn’t much like people, but I wasn’t heartless. “Yeah, come on.”

Other books in the series

Scarred-Generic

Book 1

Scarred-For-Life-Generic

Book 1.1

Wounded-Generic

Book 2

Scarred-In-Love-Generic

Book 2.1

The-Scarred-Ones-Generic

Book 2.2

Written-in-Scars-Generic

Short stories