Scars are cracks that link the past and the present, in other words; recall memories of who we were and who we are now. These are the ones that don't heal over time...

** Texas - 2005 **

After that eventful night, she kicked off her shoes and spread out across the bed, stretching her limbs on the mattress. Once again that roof glared at her. Although neither of them bothered with the neighbors spreading web between the beams and blocks.

Charlie walked into the room, his tear-filled eyes silently revealing that the day hadn't been so good, but he was soon glad to see her awake.

- Before bed my parents would tell a story - he commented while his small hands were hiding under the sheet. - Sometimes he stayed up with me until I fell asleep.

- Hmm... - Clara said without wanting to extend the conversation too much.

Don't blame her for that, she was exhausted.

- We prayed together before bed. She-she put her feet under the sheet.

Clara struggled, contracting her body and forcing him to stand, as soon as she won the fight, she went to the dresser. She reached for the bottom of the drawer, but the vacuum between her fingers woke her. There was nothing there, what do you mean?

She pulled the drawer out completely, despair was beginning to drown her hope as she looked for the money.

- What are you looking for? Charlie asked in a shaky voice.

- The money... - She removed the clothes, finding only the bottom of the drawer. - Where is it?

She tossed the few clumsy strands of hair back. Her heart pounded in her chest. She again searched the space, then the other drawers above. And the answer was the same...

- Did you take it? - She raised her voice to Charlie who widened his eyes and was silent. - answer me...

His hands shook the boy's shoulders, making him more terrified, until the few words left his lips:

- It was an accident...

- What did you do? -Clara looked for some sign in her eyes.

- Would you run away without me? – the boy's trembling voice failed, while his thin little lips trembled incessantly.

- I hate you boy, I hate you...

His brown eyes behind the black curls flooded.

The bedroom door opened announcing the presence of a guest.

-Well, well, well...-said that cold and heavy voice-Leona hates when they plan something behind her back.

Clara kept her hate-filled gaze on Charlie who shrank further and further.

-Clara, Clara-Leona approached, in one of her hands was a thin and elongated stick-What did you intend to do with that money?

Her heart throbbed in her chest, directing attention to the rod between those slender fingers, covered by the black glove.

Letting go of the poor boy's shoulders, she backed away as Leona began to approach.

"Nothing..." she replied, swallowing hard.

- Do not lie to me!!! shouted Leona, hitting the stick on the dresser.

A terrifying, terrifying crackle echoed through the room, startling them both. And the mark over the room revealed the cut that would soon be on her skin if she hadn't thought of something.

- What would you do with that money?

-Nothing, I swear - Clara said raising her hands, and her voice revealed the scream of fear taking over her body.

Leona stopped leaving a few steps between them. Her thin, slightly slanted lips curved, giving her face a scarier look.

Clara felt that tremor run through her entire body, paralyzed. The mattress touched her legs saying the space had shrunk.

- All right, - Said the woman assuming that sweet voice again, despite the accent - Leona will grant you a day to think of a convincing answer; if she doesn't convince me, she knows what will happen...

That smile faded from her lips, and just like that she left the room, locking the door behind her.

She could breathe calmly now, but fear prevailed, consuming all hope and smothering her with the hands of despair.

Without strength, her knees buckled, resting her body on the bed. She frantically ran her hands over her face feeling them tremble without control. A desperate sigh passed through her lips, and the hot tears insisted on descending, tracing a path on her pale cheeks.

-See what you've done... - She launched the words to the boy, in the same tremulous tone of voice.

Charlie curled up on his bed, turning to face the wall again.

- Why did you tell?

Charlie shifted under the blanket, and stretched out his hands, uncovering them. The deep red marks stretched between the boy's palm and small fingers like a child's crayon scribble.

Clara pressed her lips together, holding back the strong urge to cry, not just for herself, but especially for Charlie. It wasn't his fault… Soon those marks would be on hers, in addition to the one that was already present in her hand.

Charlie turned to the wall and again the sound of crying and pain echoed through the room.

- I'm sorry boy. - She said sitting next to him on the bed.

-I want my parents ...-she said, half sobbing.

Clara grabbed her knees, resting her elbows on them, looking towards the bedroom window:

- They must be looking for you, I'm sure they'll find you.

- I miss them...

- I miss mine too...

Charlie's hair spread across the pillow:

- She discovered the money in the drawer - her shaky voice left her lips - I said it was mine, but she didn't believe it and asked what you were going to do.

- Why did you say that? Clara directed her gaze to the boy's face.

-I wish you didn't fight with me...-her hands were shaking as she rubbed her flooded eyes-You would leave without me...

She let out another sigh, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips:

"Maybe…" saying out loud sounded so guilty.

"I'm sorry..." the boy repeated.

"Me too." She looked down, disappointed with herself.

Silence kept him company for a short time until Clara looked up again:

- You know what, now we're scar brothers...

Clara lifted her hand, revealing the scar across it. Charlie stretched his to join hers.

"Scar brothers," he repeated, smiling, but his eyes were still cloudy like glass on a rainy day. - What happened to your hand?

"I don't like to talk about it." She withdrew her hand, looking at the scar.

Charlie sat up in bed:

-I told everything to my older sister, and she told me too, except about boyfriends - her little face wrinkled - Ew...

She smiled.

- We're brothers now, you can tell me... - said the boy.

"Okay, I'll tell you," she said, ruffling his hair.

Charlie shifted on the bed, hugging her knees, resting her chin on her arms attentively.

- I hurt myself on a barbed wire...

He wasn't happy to hear the story summarized, his watchful gaze waiting for a few more words.

"It's over," he concluded, getting out of bed.

As you can imagine, the story doesn't end with those words, and again we'll go back the next day, after the heavy rain...

** 2001 - Texas **

His faithful roommate struggled to keep up at least in sight of the couple. Her reddened nose ran incessantly, and her body looked like it was dragging stones, exhausted as she walked down the stairs after Clara.

Jack was sitting next to Leona at the table; he held a newspaper in front of his face, engrossed in the news. The long skeletal fingers turned the page to the other side, but he soon became aware of the presence of the two near the entrance to the door.

- Where are you going? – He asked lowering the newspaper just to eye level.

Leona, who was beside her, directed her gaze as well, narrowing her eyelids suspiciously.

- Uh... - Clara said, thinking of a prudent answer - Jennifer is going to help me with the plantation...

- Who gave this task to her, not to see that she is sick? -Jack crossed those long thin hugs in front of his body, leaving the newspaper on the table-Go up Jennifer ... - He ordered.

Her poor friend paralyzed looking for an alternative, and soon came the answer:

- There's a lot of work for Clara.

-Today you are off - she concluded lifting the newspaper again.

Leona left her "breakfast" on the table:

- Jack, I prefer that they work, it will be more profit for us. - commented the woman ignoring the two. - Less headache...

- No way - He looked at Clara - the girl already got cold enough in that basement, and the other one has a cold, she can barely stand up, - he said - it's not a good idea.

Leona approached her husband:

- We need money, because it won't be long until you're eating the same things as them... - She hugged his neck - So now is not the time to be the loving daddy.

He looked again at the two girls who hadn't moved a muscle:

- What if...

- Don't start Jack, you know it's not true...

Clara and Jennifer exchanged curious glances, noticing the tone of the conversation between the two. It is certain that that strange couple was hiding something.

- Do what you want then - he kept an indescribable look at his wife - I'm going to town to see the news, I'll be back soon...

- It's ok, sweetheart - replied the woman, fixing the few light hairs of her husband - You can leave it, Leona will take good care of our little girls.

Clara held her friend's hand.

That different accent, and the sweet voice, in addition to the calculating look made her body tremble inside.

Jack took his hat, went out and closed the door of the house.

Sitting at the table, they heard the sound of the car driving away.

- Come on girls, there's a lot to do - hurried the woman watching the two finish their coffee.

With the tools in hand, I mean the basket and proper boots, they started to plant the few seeds. The earth snuggled in degrees like the mattress, then the sheet, more earth covering it completely.

Clara kept her attention on the kitchen window. It was possible to see Leona's maladjusted body, imagining those dense jabuticaba eyes towards the two of them.

As she turned her face back, she found her friend's pale face, holding herself upright with just enough strength. Every five seconds, she brought her arm to her lips, muffling the sound of her dry cough.

Time began to pass, and clouds covered the skies announcing the rain, until Clara did not see the woman through the window. To be sure, she looked in every window for any sign of her. Sure enough, Leona was tasting her expensive wines that Jack brought in every week, in front of the fireplace.

It was the right time to escape.

Clara left the basket in the dirt and ran to Jennifer.

Holding her friend's hand tightly, she led her into the punishment room, around the small wooden space.

The fence was the same, with one of the beams turned up, held up only by the barbed wire.

Jennifer watched the path, intently, as her friend pulled as much of the wood inside as possible, leaning just enough for them to pass.

"You first," Clara said, holding the board tight.

Jennifer stepped unsteadily; her foot slipped, finding no support:

- I can't, it's slipping

- You can do it, Jennifer...

The girl turned her back to the fence, and crossed her foot out again, sliding across the smooth board. Her hands were looking for some support, until she visualized one of the branches propping up the wood. It was there that she managed to hold on, but her feet didn't reach the ground, and the branch didn't hold her weight, breaking with a crash.

- Jennifer, are you okay? - Clara shouted worriedly.

"Yes, now it's your turn..." she replied back.

Jennifer braced her hands, pushing the wood inward for her friend to pass, when she heard those words drag, through the gap in the fence into her ears...

- Where are you unbearable girls?!!!

Clara slipped her foot behind the wood in the same way as her friend. Contemplating that smoldering gaze, like flames of fire, consuming dry wood. Her limbs froze for a brief second, watching Leona approach down the trail.

- I'll roast you in the fireplace, and then serve you for dinner!!! She spat out the words, enraged.

Clara regained her attention as she felt her friend's touch on her knees. Her feet slid along the wood, but she couldn't feel the floor. Desperately, she sought some support with her hands, and instinctively grabbed the huge wire she held to the fence. The pain came to the surface, when she felt a kind of needle pierce her hand.

Leona grabbed her arm, trying to pull her inside. With more intensity, the small hole began to open as she pulled it inside.

A cry of pain left her lips.

- Let her go...!! shouted Jennifer.

-You ungrateful children... You won't run away from me... - Her expression was like that of an angry dog, on a leash.

Until the wood of the fence came crashing down on Leona, and Clara with her. Her fingers jerked free, opening the cut wider.

The woman writhed under the board, screaming.

"We need to go soon," Jennifer said from the other side.

Clara got up, with the help of her elbow, closing her hand so as not to aggravate the situation of that cut. And she went down the few stones that raised the high part of the fence.

The two ran through the woods, leaving behind Leona's angry and painful screams.

...

When she looks at the scar on her knee, she will recall the same memory over and over again of the fall, the training wheels, the wounded pride and fear, like an endless circle. In certain people, this circle will prevent them from creating new memories and overcoming obstacles...