I love to go boating. Its the gypsy in me. I feel like I'm running away to a strange new land every time I go boating. Even if its a lake that I'm on. Well, boating demands that the Captain, namely me, go topless. I admit I'm a shameless whore about showing my bewbies. One of the interesting side effects of being shirtless, is that people will always ask about the scar on my stomach.
Its a very pronounced scar. About 2 1/2 inchs in length and raised. Thin by its length it is clearly a wound made by a sharp object. It is in fact my favorite scar of them all. I could very easily go on to tell the tales of all my scars. Each one has a story to tell. Much like tatoo's do. Each as bizare as the next.
So, the eventual question is asked...."So, how did you get that scar?".
Now, I tell you the public story. The one that I enjoy telling. The one that stops anyone from asking any further questions about it. If only they would, they would get the truth.
"My brother stabbed me with a knife."
Now, the real story isn't that far from it. But, he didn't stab me with a knife. He did, however cause a knife to cut me deeply enough that I needed butterfly bandaids to hold it closed. Now I have to explain a little about me here. I have only had 2 stitches in my entire life. I don't "get stitches" just because I'm cut to the bone. My mother was raised on a farm. I'm a southern country boy. Stitches are for sewing body parts back on, from where they were no longer attached. Not cuts. So, when I say I needed butterfly bandaids, I meen that the wound was 2 inches deep on my belly where it would break open every time I sat down.
So, how did my brother cause a knife to wound me like that. Well, I was standing in his way, holding a razor knife with my back to him. So, he got me out of his way. By pushing me into the wall. Causing the knife to take the path of least resistance. My gut!
So here I am bleeding, pissed and in need of retribution. I clasp the wound with my left hand fingers and proceed to beat my brother with my right hand. Mother came and stopped me, saw the wound and made me leave him alone. It healed rather quick. Took roughly a week to seal up and stop itching.
Thats how you turn a long boring story into the coolest short story. Ok so yes, I did lie about how I got the scar. But no one has ever called me on it to find out the truth.
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