The bruises marked her skin like unnamed countries on a lost map. They stretched on her knees, went right through her bones ; she imagined that’s how she must have been looking on the inside as well. Not open wounds, tearing her apart, but crushed limbs, slowly and painfully healing, old scars that lasted there as a reminder. You are on your own now. Never forget who you are, for the world will surely not.
In the dim light, the bruises already began to fade, so it was easy for her to hide them under her knee socks. Too bad she couldn’t tell the same thing about the bruises that stained her inside. At least, she came to learn how to hide those better.
But she never learned how to stop herself from crumbling.