1. Lilly James Haro
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    Lilly James Haro The Grey Warden

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    Contest Winner! Flash Fiction Contest #18 - "Embossed" Well Done Lustrousonion!

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Flash Fiction Contest Archives' started by Lilly James Haro, Mar 1, 2015.

    Let’s all say congratulations to the newest winner of the Flash Fiction Contest, @lustrousonion who wrote the entry, Embossed. Well Done! Also congratulations to @Lancie who wrote the second place entry: Stitches.

    Thank you to all who entered and all who read the entries and voted, we wouldn’t be able to hold these contests without you guys.

    @Wreybies, if you could please present the medal :)
     
  2. Lilly James Haro
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    Lilly James Haro The Grey Warden

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    Here is the winning entry for any who would like to read it:

    “You sure about this?” the purple-haired boy asked, already wielding his weapon. His ears were punctured with rows of holes.

    She nodded, once and decisively. No room for doubt. “Absolutely.”

    The boy grinned.

    Her father had killed himself. That was no secret.

    People heard this fact and automatically thought they understood a lot about her. That must have been so hard on you, they would say. Because of this, she wasn't allowed a bad day like other people were. If she felt sad, or if she sometimes felt like giving up, others would connect the dots, always working backwards to #1. The dead father dot.

    The needle buzzed to life, touched her. She flinched only once.

    A gun? A rope? A bridge? People put a lot of emphasis on the how. What did that matter to her? She'd been five years old when it happened. No one was going to be unscathed; but she wasn't hurt. There were no scars or bruises. No outward manifestation of suffering.

    People liked scars. They liked them as much as they liked embossed wedding invitations. Beautiful, interesting, unique tendrils across an otherwise ordinary page. Without these markings, everyone would forget. She would be one more animal in the pack.

    But she was hurt, over and over again. He was gone; that absence was all that mattered. That was hurt enough.

    The buzzing clicked off. In a smooth motion, the boy swiveled his chair to the side and then back.

    “You'll have to keep it covered for a few days,” he said as he handed her the mirror.

    Three stylized letters traveled down her neck.

    “Looks good,” he commented. “You're a brave one.”

    She fingered the raised skin. It hurt like hell.

    There was no changing it, just as there was no getting over it. This would always be her lot in life, and it would never be fair. She'd learned that lesson a little earlier and more thoroughly than most. There would always be a hole inside her, but now she also had her scar.
     
  3. lustrousonion
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    lustrousonion Contributing Member

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    :oops:
     

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