This prompt has been floating around on the internet for a while, so I'm going to abscond with it (as all good writers do).
"Every scar is a lie, marked on your skin forever. Some are small. Some are deep. And that stranger has the biggest lie scar you've ever seen."
And because I'm in a mood, I'm going to smash this together with a second prompt I ran across last week:
"Every person is born with a Soul Mark. Most people go their whole lives without finding their Match, the soulmate who shares their Mark. But you just saw your Soul Mark on your worst enemy. What do you do now?"
Marks and scars. What could POSSIBLY go wrong, right?
Rumor had it that the board was making another push to change the rules about locker rooms. For as long as anyone could remember, the rule had been that every student had to undress in the lockers before phys ed. There were no exceptions, unless someone had a note from a doctor that said they couldn't - and what kind of doctor was going to write a note like that?
In her time at school, Vix had seen a lot of different kinds of people. The honest ones, the popular ones, dark ones, light ones, people with Soul Marks that covered their whole arm, others that just had little ones on their foot or back. Everyone had a different theory about what it meant when a Soul Mark was a different size or color or location than their own, and for some reason everyone seemed to think that their Soul Mark was "normal." But no one disagreed on what the scars meant.
Everyone had them. Big scars, little scars, deep scars, shallow scars, white scars, pink scars. They all meant the same thing. Lies. They left their mark, and they always hurt. Most students learned when they were small that lying hurt - it wasn't worth the trouble unless it was worth the pain, and most things weren't. The majority of folk had five or six of them, usually around the shoulders or arms. Hard to hide. Others showed up on the chest, legs, or hands. Almost never on the face or back, though no one was exactly sure why.
Parents weren't always happy with things like lie scars and Soul Marks being on display, especially in a "toxic environment" like high school, but Vix didn't see how it was any different from the rest of the world, and there were plenty of people who simply didn't have the option of hiding their Mark or scars. Her Mark was on her wrist, and unless she wore sweat bands or really long sleeves, there was no covering it up. But she also didn't care who saw it or the thin white scars all over her arms and shoulders that showed she'd been a liar and a thief before she'd been caught and put in foster.
But as she stepped out of the steamy, stuffy locker on the girl's side and moved toward the field where they were supposed to run laps today, Vix almost tripped over her own feet. Usually the boys were required to keep their shirts on during class, but they had a sub today and apparently some of the guys had convinced him that they were allowed to do that. A bunch of them were sitting on the grass beside the track with their backs to the school, stretching and chatting. And the guy second from the right in the back row had a hug, gnarled pink scar that stretched from hip to shoulder in a crooked, twisting curve. And at the very tip of the scar, curling over the top of his shoulder - was her Soul Mark.