Scars are something that marks the body but it also marks the mind or even the soul, if you will. I don't think everyone believes in the existence of souls but one could say that this the way it is or that it isn't. I have a few scars myself, I'm both ashamed and in an odd way proud of them but then ashamed over again, but no one should ever have to be ashamed of that part of themselves.
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Mark was a simple person. He didn't think himself special. But he wasn't fully average either. He sat against the shower door hoping it won't break and fall or something, underneath the pressure from his back. He sighed, his paranoia was at it again, tempting him to fall into delusion. But he assured himself the shower build was stronger than that, yet he still moved towards the bathtubs' side just to be safe, better safe than sorry, maybe - he thought. He looked over the cut marks on his thighs peeking from underneath his pajama shorts, that slid down in the scuffling on the floor process. The translucent scars, rippling at the slight prodding of the skin, the brunet found funny, but he couldn't smile much at that, as they were a sign of his past. He thought he was way too fucked up back then. Not like he wasn't now but he's come a long way from then, he had to admit it. When you think of your favorite word what do you picture? Do you see it in your head, do you hear it, do you smell the scent of something that has to do with it, do you feel nothing? - as if he was having a conversation with someone else Mark thought to himself. His favorite word was "aquarium", 「水族館」("suizokukan"), in other words. As he was a Japan Studies major, he had to think of an answer to this question before, in context of the ice breaker game he had to play at the first lecture of his junior year "What are your favorite Chinese characters?". So he picked a word, made up of three signs, he felt a close connection to, he really loved going to oceanariums, especially the ones he went to on holidays he'd spent in Kanazawa and Barcelona. By the way the anime 「クラゲの食堂」 ("Kurage no shokudou" - "Jellyfish Restaurant") is pretty good, if you're up for watching it. - he said aloud this time, his thoughts all over the place. The restaurant he used to go to when he was in outpatient care at the psychiatric ward was also called "Aquarium". So it all made a perfect circle, like the circles on zen buddhist paintings. The boy brought his hand with a small pencil sharpener blade to his left arm and he stuck it atop his skin. He wasn't going to do this, he wasn't going to do this but he wanted to feel how it was in his past again. He didn't want to forget, because when he couldn't remember it made him feel like his problems were just a made up story in his head. So he drew a small line and again, and twice more, and with that four trails of small beads of blood formed, brimming slowly atop the depressions in his skin. They were small enough to look like they were from shaving inattentively or from a cat scratch. That was his intention after all. His other scars were old and they wouldn't go away, he knew it. The brunet was ashamed of them but they also gave him some sort of solace, remnants of the past. I'll take you back, to the time I was in a sorry state of mind, lost in my own life and giving up. Then I'll be back here with you when you're reading this, and we can talk about how I ended up were I'm going and who has been here and is with me ever since then, all along the way. I really want you to meet him. - he began to tell.