I leave notes at the end of all my books (except for Beautiful Minds, because the notes are at the end of each story). They are generalized notes about each story, just a little something for you, the readers, giving you some insights on them. I’ve been wanting to go more in depth on some of those stories for several years. This is the first of those deep dives, and it’s about a story that was written in one sitting and has recently been republished at the website Exquisite Death.

This deep dive is for the story, The Scarring. It first appeared in my collection, Voices, released by Stitched Smile Publications in 2018. It’s one of the darker pieces, and maybe one of the more violent pieces I have written. It’s also one of the more misunderstood pieces and that is probably my fault. I’ll explain, but you’re going to have to stick with me for a few minutes. 

This is the note for The Scarring I left at the end of Voices:

You met the main character of this story as Nothing, the guy with all the scars and pent up hate and anger. I knew him by a different name when I started writing this piece. But a funny thing happened as I wrote this story: the main character didn’t want to use the name I had given him. He kept whispering to me, ‘My name is Nothing.’ Of course, I didn’t listen to him. Then he decided to stop the car and tell me to get out, just get out if I’m not going to listen to him.  

I was stubborn, as I’m apt to be. Just ask my wife, or really anyone who knows me. I was determined to use the name I had given him. He was determined to not cooperate until I called him Nothing. In the end, I lost the battle of wills. Here’s the funny thing: for the life of me, I can’t remember the name I had originally picked out for him. The use of his name wasn’t meant to be–he was meant to be Nothing. And so, he is.

This is a decidedly different story, one that is more telling than anything else. At least until the end. It also came about because of a scar on the palm of my left hand, put there by a nail over twenty years ago. Nothing like a hammer, a nail, and a rotten piece of wood.  

Before you go any further, if you have not already done so, let me encourage you to read the story at the Exquisite Death website HERE. Don’t, worry, you can click on the link and it will open the page in another window. Also, The Scarring is short, so it won’t take that long to read. 

Okay, did you read it? I hope so. That will make the rest of this make sense.

Seeing how I only really mentioned the name of he main character in my notes, it’s easy to see how some would think this story is solely about revenge. However, it isn’t. This story is really more symbolism than revenge. It’s about how we let the traumas of our past dictate our lives. Those traumas are like scars left behind either physically, mentally, or emotionally. Or all three. We can do one of two things with these events, learn from them or dwell on them. If we learn from them, we can move beyond them. If we dwell on them, as Nothing does in the story, then there is no moving on, we can’t be better, so to speak. 

To further illustrate my point:

I’ve been cheated on twice, both before I got married. The first time, I actually caught my girlfriend in the act. I didn’t explode or get mad like I thought I might if that ever happened. I just said, “Oh, hey, wait. Don’t stop. Y’all keep doing what you’re doing. I know my way out.” Literally, that’s what I said. I got over it pretty quickly. I mean, if she didn’t want me, then I didn’t want her. This was a case of not letting the trauma control me or dictate my actions.

The second time was a little more difficult. My then girlfriend broke up with me in April of that year. She never told me why, just “It’s over.” I had the hardest time dealing with that. Give me something. Did I do something wrong? I wracked my brain for months trying to figure it out. 

Turns out, I was wrong. I did nothing wrong. I found out in July that she had been having an affair and had … wait for it … gotten pregnant. That one … that one made me angry. You see, not only was she cheating, her roommate knew about it and covered for her. At that point, I was like, “F—k it. I can’t trust women.” For about three years after that, I wouldn’t give women the time of day. For those three years, I let the two women who cheated on me and the one who hid the truth from me, dictate my actions. I dwelled on it. I let the scars left behind by those women determine what I did when it came to other women. That was the wrong way to handle it. I bottled it up, didn’t talk about it, and it absolutely ate me up. That is, until my wife became the stars in my eyes, mind, and heart. 

Let’s look at The Scarring, now, and yes there are spoilers here, so it’s your last chance to scroll up, hit that link and read the story before continuing on. 

Nothing is asked if he loves. No. He hates. He does so because of how he was raised, how he was hurt, how he was scarred. The circumstances of his childhood were horrific, and that’s putting it lightly. So, Nothing hates until Lena becomes the stars of his eyes, mind, and eventually, heart. Unfortunately, for Nothing to get beyond hate, he had to address the root of that hate, and that was his father. He does so violently and with Lena’s somewhat unwilling involvement. At the end he asked do you love one final time. He says Yes. Everything that had ever hurt him was no longer a part of his life and he no longer hid his scars. 

Before anyone yells at me saying I’m encouraging violence to solve problems. No. No, I’m not. Again, the story is very much symbolic of moving forward after trauma or letting trauma dictate what you do with your life. In Nothing’s case, the root of his trauma and his hate was his father and his scars—mental, physical, and emotional—had never been dealt with, which is why he was the way he was. It was never about revenge. It was always about letting go. The first instance of letting go is letting Lena see the scars. That was the beginning of dealing with it. Unfortunately, once he began Nothing could only let go in one way, a violent rage. The reason it ended the way it ended was Nothing suppressed every pain he ever had until he had to address it. By then, he saw only one way to do that. In reality, that was the wrong way. 

The moral of the story is simple: don’t let trauma in your life get to the point of where the only thing you can do about it is do something drastic, either to yourself or someone else. Address trauma head on. Seek help. See a therapist. But don’t suppress it to the point of boiling over and exploding. That never ends well.

Thank you for coming along for this deep dive. I hope you enjoyed it. If you don’t mind, please drop a like and leave a comment. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Until we meet again my friends, be kind to one another.

A.J.