If you look closely at me, you'll notice the pimples that cover my face. The faded dark purple lines that, in the morning, are so dark they look like bruises. But if you take an even closer look you'll notice that I have scars. Faded etched scars that mean something different. Each gotten from a different time. The sad thing is I can remember them all.

Taking my hand, you'll notice just above the thumb a small scar. I got that one when I accidentally cut myself from cutting up a carrot. Another is on my heel. It's a burn mark from when my house caught on fire. I raced up the stairs, barefoot, trying to save my sister. My heel lightly caught on fire leaving behind it's deathly mark. It's not the pain that I mostly remember. It's the tears and memory that are hardest for me to deal with. Just above my eyebrow and stretching down to my lower cheek is the largest scar. I try my best to cover it but even with all the makeup it's still visible.

This scar is the one that will always haunt me. In my dreams, in my mind, everywhere. Even when I close my eyes I see him. My father clawing at my face. I tried to pry him off me but when I did it was too late. My face dripped of blood. My fathers hands covered in blood too. He leaned back against the wall. His breathing grew softer and softer becoming more forced until it was done and he was gone. Only then did I call them. And when they took me to the hospital, fixed me up and told them I was good as new, I could see the lie hidden beneath their eyes. When I went to school the next week everyone stopped to stare at my horribly non covered scar that traced half of my face. But it was Liam who told me I looked better with that scar. And it was Liam who made me feel better.

Lightly I pat at the scar. I wince when all the makeup comes off revealing the ugly red scar. I still don't know how Liam likes it. I still don't understand how even when I'm covered in scars he doesn't care. I step out of the bathroom to my room where Liam sits on the bed reading a book. When he looks up at me he smiles and pulls me to him. His lightly traces all my scars before kissing my lips. I don't understand much about Liam, except that he loves me and that I love him.

I hug him tighter while he brushes his lips against my forehead. He pulls me back so we each can clearly see each other. For a long moment we just stare with no words. We don't need to speak to understand each other. And then, he lifts his hand to my cheek and slowly leans in.

His lips just graze mine as he softly whispers, “Perfect.”