Scars

### November Jensen

Every scar has a story to tell. The patchwork of scars that cover just about every inch of November Jensen’s body tell enough stories to fill a novel.

The long curved scar above his right eye, one of his first, he claims, is from when his father threw a beer bottle at his mother, and a piece of the shattering glass flew at his face. He was five at the time.

The zigzag line on the left side of his abdomen is from his first week on the street. A lesson about bravery to the 8 year old runaway.

The four dots on his thumb are from a fight with a rat over a moldy cheese sandwich.

The three jagged lines across his right shoulder are a consequence of trying to leave his new home. It had seemed like a dream come true. Papa, as his new guardian prefered to be called, provided decent food and a warm bed, and to seal the deal, offered a chance at revenge for what his father had done to his mother. November learned that paradise is too good to be true, and the jagged lines accompanied by bruises and broken bones, evidence of which has now faded, serve as a vicious reminder.

The small indent on the bridge of his nose comes from the first time he met the love of his life. Yet, at the age of 10, there was not a single soul in the world they hated more than each other. He called her a foul name and she, in turn, broke his nose.

The sandpaper-like skin covering his shins is from one of November’s first solo missions, A combination of over eagerness and the threat of consequences if he was to fail resulted in an unintended fire blocking his only exit.

The spider web on his right hand is a result of Papa believing that November was not skilled enough at fighting with his non-dominant hand - and practice was the best way to learn.

The crisscross burns and cuts along his chest are from a three day interrogation, in which not only did he not reveal anything, but also managed to kill his captors using the chair in which he was bound.

The crooked nose - an obvious indication of being punched in the face, slammed into walls, and beaten to a pulp more times than November cared to count.

The scars from his days working for the Assassin’s Den are few in comparison to the ones he received that one night everything changed - the night he tried to leave.

Jealousy is a powerful motivator, clearly portrayed in the injuries still visible from that night so long ago.

November and Echo, his girlfriend and partner-in-crime, decided it was time to get out of the life neither of them had chosen. Much to their surprise, there was no resistance from Alpha, the new leader after Papa was deemed unfit to lead.

It was by the second broken rib, November says, he realized it all had been a trap. He should have known better than to think there would be no consequences. He had been raised to endure torture, and lasted almost 2 hours before passing out from the pain and blood lose.

When November woke up 7 months later, his body was covered in so many new scars, that unblemished skin barely existed. Looking at the new scars, he could tell exactly what had happened to his body after blacking out, and it wasn’t pretty.

The shredded skin along his knuckles are from punching the stone wall of his dungeon repeatedly after learning that while he lay unconsciously in his own blood and filth, Echo was being murdered. He wasn’t given and didn’t ask for details - but if it was anything at all similar to what he experienced, he didn’t have to imagine - and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

November wasn’t supposed to survive, and given the injuries he had endured, he probably shouldn’t have. But since he did, Alpha decided to take advantage of it. As soon as November had regained enough strength, he was sent back in the field. But this time with a new and improved plan of escape.

Revenge would have been good fuel to keep going, but that was impossible. Despite knowing Alpha’s role in Echo’s death, an attack on the Den or its leader was as good as signing a death sentence, and this time he wouldn’t survive.

The tiny ‘v’ on his palm, barely visible amongst all his other scars, is from the scalpel slipping while dissecting a corpse in med class. Becoming a surgeon was a way to pay back for all the harm he had done in his life, he figured. Over the next couple years, November paid off his monetary debt to Alpha, along with a sizable leaving fee, and left town with a mutual agreement to pretend the other no longer existed. He was finally free, at least for the time being, but utterly alone.

780 people he had to save. This is how many November figures he had hurt or killed over the course of the previous 10 years.

Then he could kill himself.

His blood debt would be paid, and to continue living was only a risk to those around him if Alpha ever changed his mind. His scars and his story could take their secrets to the grave for all he cared.

The scattering of dots and lines on his right foot are from dropping a wine glass in shock. Echo stood in his doorway, alive and as gorgeous as ever, after 5 long years. The new scars that covered her body told their own story of betrayal and survival. The gashes along her back and the rings around her wrists seemed.

The slash across November’s left palm is from promising Echo he’ll stand beside her for the rest of their lives - whatever it takes. A blood promise, never to be broken.

A second slash, parallel to the first, is the promise he made to their baby girl. Isa, his little demon, smart and strong and resilient just like her parents, would never have to experience any of this. Her scars would get to tell a different story.