[ WP ] For as long as you can remember , you 've had that scar . You stopped noticing it . Then , one morning , you 're pretty sure it 's in a different spot . You shake it off , but every morning it moves a little closer to your heart .

For as long as I can remember, I've had that scar. A ragged burn, shaped like the bright X that marks the spot on a pirate map. The skin around it always feels tight, and when I trace it with my fingers, I feel like I've forgotten something important. I ca n't help but wonder if what I've forgotten is how I first got it, but my brothers tell me I've had it since birth. 
 
 Eventually, I stopped wondering about the odd cross on my shoulder. It was annoying, but it did n't hinder me in my racing, or gymnastics, so I ignored it. My brothers had strange birthmarks too, maybe it was just something that ran in the family. I'd ask my parents about it, if I ever saw them. I do n't think I have a mom. Maybe a long time ago I did, or maybe she died when I was born. Nobody talks about it. 
 
 Dad's never home, always off doing his great work in far-away lands- His friends tell me its all very, VERY important, but I do n't really get it. All I wonder is if he's following his dreams. If he's following his dreams, I can forgive him for that, even if Ace ca n't. 
 
 On my sixteenth birthday, something strange happened. Everyone says it's just in my head, but I'm pretty sure that scar of mine used to be right on top of my shoulder, but now it's flat against the skin near my chest. It looks bigger too, and when I trace it with my fingers, I feel like there's something very important right on the edge of memory. 
 
 On my seventeenth birthday my big brothers went away to college. I laughed and waved goodbye with them, and did my best to ignore the fact that the scar had moved once again. It did n't itch anymore. The only itch was the one on the edges of my memory, reminding me painfully every moment I was awake that there was something very, very precious that I was forgetting. 
 
 On my eighteenth birthday I sat alone in my room for an hour, awake before anyone else, and traced the ragged edges of the growing cross. The skin around it does n't feel tight anymore, instead stretching easily around the burn. A part of me could n't help but hope that maybe that meant it was finally healing-But I could n't ignore the fact that the scar was, without doubt, moving closer and closer to my heart. It was as undeniable as the loneliness that had been weighing me down since they left. I placed my palm flat against the burn, and let my head sink against my knees. It was right there, a memory, waiting for me on the limits of my mind. I could almost catch it, almost see it, could just barely feel salt spray on my face and the laughing tune of someplace far away and long ago... 
 
 On my nineteenth birthday, the scar settled itself perfectly over my heart, the X crisscrossing across my chest. I knew it would n't move again. 
 
 Because on my nineteenth birthday, I remembered. 
 
 
 
 *'' Nevermore shall we meet again, * 
 
 *So say goodbye, my dearest friend. * 
 
 *But do n't be down and do n't you frown, * 
 
 *For soon the moon shall rise! `` * 
 
 
 
 I was n't going to be lonely anymore, because my family, my real family, was out there waiting for me. I just had to find them again. I already did it once, how hard can it be to do it again? It'll be an adventure! 
 
 *'' LET'S GO! ONWARD! `` * 

