Title page: Scar.png
Analysis:Scar Analysis
Snowball (Rough Draft)- Snowball.docx
Snowball Map: With the hard copy (File got erased)


It all began on a snowy day on a crowded playground. As always, the playground was scattered with laughing children. Within the crowd, there was a little boy and a little girl who were chasing after one another. As the little boy ran away from the girl, he noticed that she was taking a scoop of snow from the ground. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, but it was not fast enough for the girl’s excellent marksmanship. Pow! The ball of snow hit the side of the boy’s head causing him to lose his balance. He fell down on a particularly rocky part of the field. Dazed, he tried to pull himself up but found that he couldn’t. He was too dizzy. When he heard the gasps from the crowd, he knew something was wrong and reached up to find blood on his face. It was cold and sticky from the dust and snow that dripped down with the crimson fluid. By then, all the kids had gathered around him. But instead of helping him up, they were pointing their fingers and laughing once they realized that the injury was not fatal. They laughed on and on. The chaotic atmosphere, the pain, the coldness, and the blood were too much for the boy. He tried to swallow his tears but they just continued to pour down his bloodied cheek.
The little girl approached him and tried to help him up. The boy turned his flushed face towards this girl, the one responsible, and gave her a murderous gaze. He hit her hand away and ran from the playground, tears burning the gash on his cheek as the laughter of the children became distant with each painful stride.

  • * *
The scar was throbbing again.
Leyth, a tall, slender, and a bit mature looking student, waited patiently for the English teacher to start the class as his scratched his scar out of habit. As usual, the seats around him were empty.
Class started as the teacher called attendance, “Jake”
“Leyth,” the teacher continued
“Here,” Leyth called out reluctantly.
Rose quietly raised her hand.
“Here,” Greg called out clearly.

As Leyth was walking to his locker to get his geometry textbook, he crashed into Rose. Her textbooks dropped noisily to the ground.
“Oh… sorry,” said Rose after a brief silence as she bent down to get her textbook. Rose was an attractive girl, but she despondent.
Leyth started to bend down to help her when his scar started to sting. He straightened up hastily and walked to his locker forcing himself not to look back.
Rose came up to him after picking up the scattered textbooks, “Do you want to eat lunch with us today?”
Leyth gave her a look, that stare that he always gives, shook his head, and went about his way.
Rose sighed and muttered under her breath, “How much longer?”
Leyth pretended not to hear but he did. He had an excellent hearing probably because he found talking a useless endeavor and always kept to himself. He found that he could avoid pain if he just listened. Not that there was anything of interest to hear. Society made him sick. Behind the smiles and friendly gestures of people lies the truth behind humanity, that each of us is far too selfish to share the happiness of others, and far too tainted not to relish in other people’s suffering. Leyth had found this out far too early the hard way, but it had also allowed him to prevent the recurrence of such pain. He lived in isolation and he was perfectly fine with that.
A few weeks later, Leyth heard a conversation taking place next to him. “I am so going to kill Rose. Well, she thinks she is so much better than me; so better that she won’t even let me visit her house.”
Leyth happened to know the reason to Rose’s refusal. She was adopted and her foster parents were drunks living on unemployment checks. Rose had worked herself into this uptown high school and no one but Leyth knew that Rose took an hour and half bus ride every morning to get to school. Just the thought of immature princesses like Sunny getting wind of this story was a train-wreck waiting to happen. Rose’s shameful background will spread like wild fire (with a good amount of embellishment no doubt) effectively ending her social life at school.
Leyth scar stung.
Without thinking, he blurted out, “It’s because she’s adopted. Her parents aren’t that nice.”
Sunny’s face brightened as if she had won the lottery, “Oh! Interesting...”
Leyth regretted the moment the words slipped out. He didn’t know what possessed him to blurt that out. He shrugged as if it was no big deal and left. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he thought to himself. On the way home, for the first time, the scar on his cheek did not burn the way it always does.

The next day, the whole school knew that Rose was adopted. ‘Hey did you hear that Rose was adopted?’ ‘Hey, I heard she was molested by her foster father.’ ‘You know what I heard? I heard she had an abortion when she was fourteen.” Within a month, all sorts of wild tales were about her were concocted and told and retold. Even the parents got a wind of it and some of the more eager ones complained about “school morale and spiritual health of our youth.” The teachers did nothing to rectify it, content with letting the “fire” burn itself out.
Of course, it never does.
Rose tried to put up a good face about it, but found herself all alone. Kids no longer point and laugh out loud when they’re in high school. Instead whispers and furtive glances did most of the damage. She began to lose weight (though not her smile) and continued valiantly to face each day.
Leyth didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he felt guilty or if he felt good. The scar no longer hurt but he found that something else did when he saw Rose, emaciated and pale. He couldn’t shake the throbbing heaviness in his heart as he continued to avoid her.
Before long the school year ended and summer came. As he made his way out of his last class, he saw Rose walking out the hallway, her silhouette forlorn and weak. She turned and looked at no one in particular before she stepped out muttering something Leyth couldn’t hear. He could’ve sworn she said “How much longer?”

The very next day, the school gathered again at the auditorium in memory of Rose.
Leyth laughed on and on. His tears did not stop falling either. His scar throbbed harder than ever.