This was derived from a writing exercise that we had to describe as much as possible in 5 minutes. I plan to finish this someday.
Jacob was afraid. He was afraid to come out in the daylight and let people see it. This was his one private thing...his secret. Jacob had a scar. It wasn't a physical scar, but it was so emotionally deep that it seemed physical to Jacob.
He first started drawing his scar when he was ten years old. The drawing started because some shrink his mom was boinking said it may help get over his shyness. Boy, that shrink was wrong.
The drawings started out like a chicken pox scar; small, round, and barely visible. As he became older, the care began to look like something on Frankenstein. A tiny strip of skin with a row of tiny stitches. Year year, this scar became more and more grotesque, and Jacob became more self-conscience about it. Almost as if the scar had become a physical manifestation on his body instead of something folded up and in his back pocket. Even though the scar was a figment of his imagination, Jacob began to sequester himself in his own home more and more. Afraid...afraid to show himself to the world.