Imagine a world where emotional wounds left physical scars. Well I live in that world. It began in 2025 when there was a malfunction in effort to heal wounds and injuries faster, but it was unsuccessful and instead had the opposite effect. It somehow got mixed with a solution for helping people get over breakups faster, well that was when all the trouble started.

 

My name is Jenna and I live in your average Midwestern small town. The entire thing started after I broke up with my last boyfriend. Like every girl I wanted the effects to lessen so I applied to get the serum from the local medical clinic. After checking my ID (you had to be 18 to get the stuff though I knew about younger teenagers tried to get it illegally from their older siblings) I got the solution, and followed the directions which I had been given. It was only after the first dose some 24 hours later I noticed the problem.

 

At first, it was only faint scars, but they were barely visible so I ignored them. The first one that really made an impression was after I had an argument with my mom, ironically over my quick fix cure.

 

"I don't know why you bother with that stuff!" She said dismissively, "In my day we just got over things the old-fashioned way. Jenna, dear, it takes time."

 

"Well it still hurts!" I shot back, "When I take the serum it doesn't hurt as much!"

 

I left the house after that, and "power walked" around the block then the scars began to appear. First they appeared on my cheek and all over my face. I was glad after that I could to my apartment I shared with my roommate, at least she would be more sympathetic.

 

Without speaking to my mother I got in my car and headed home and was just unlocking the apartment door when I heard laughter.

 

Clearly, my roommate was home.

 

There she was in the kitchen laughing with some guy who went to the local college with us. He was tall and lanky with dark hair wearing a dark T-shirt and ripped jeans.

 

"Hey Jenna," she said looking up, "I didn't hear you come in."

 

"Oh…" I mumbled, feeling a stab somewhere in the region of my chest, "maybe I'll come back later…"

 

Clenching my keys I retreated, got back in my car and headed for the opposite side of town where I knew I can find a listening ear in another close friend.

 

My friend Clint and I had been friends since primary school and he had listened to more than my share of relationship woes. He lived in an old apartment that was much more ancient than the rest of the buildings on the block; the historic part of town where little old ladies lived in houses that were much more 2010.

 

As I drove I glanced at the clock. Clint would be home, I hoped, seeing as my day had gone from bad to worse.

 

After I had parked my car, my little mini Tesla, at the curb I ran up the walk and the steps and knocked twice on his door. Several minutes later he answered it.

 

"Dang, Jen, what happened to you? You look like hell!"

 

"Thanks." I muttered dryly. "Can I come in."

 

He stood back to let me in. Clint wasn't like my normal crowd he was relatively quiet and wore jeans and T-shirts. He wasn't that much into the high-tech fashions that had overtaken the world for the past few years.

 

So here I was sitting in his living room. Without asking he brought me a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk.

 

"Oh," I said surprised, "the real stuff not that protein powdered dry stuff they've been force-feeding us since high school."

 

Clint chuckled.

 

"So what happened? You look like you met at the bad end of a razor."

 

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "It happened after the fight I had my mom this morning over the anti-breakup serum; you know the stuff all the girls been taking since high school.

 

Clint nodded again.

 

"Is this the first time you've taken it?" He asked.

 

I nodded.

 

"It never happened to anyone else." I mumbled. "Why does all this stuff happened to me!"

 

"Did it say anything about side effects?" Clint asked, well he would ask since his dad was a doctor.

 

I shrugged.

 

"The usual, rash, hives, mood swings and occasional memory loss." I rattled off.

 

"Do you have them anywhere else, the scars, I mean."

 

I flushed, suddenly feeling awkward.

 

"Nowhere I intend to show you, unless you want to be weirded out."

 

Clint's eyes softened looking more gray than blue.

 

"I won't get weird, I promise." He gave me a small smile.

 

Slowly I lifted my shirt showing him the scar across my breasts.

 

"What's that from? It's deeper than the others."

 

"Lydia." I muttered, "she was making out with that guy from our chemistry class when I got home."

 

"It hurts because you just broke up with Orion…" Clint surmised.

 

I nodded.

 

Then Clint gathered me in his arms. He was surprisingly strong and solid for being as nerdy and wiry as he was. I settled my cheek against his soft T-shirt.

 

"I can ask my dad about this stuff…" Clint murmured into my hair, "he might know."

 

"Thanks…" I breathed. It was all I could say.

 

I let him hold me for what seemed like forever. Eventually we both stretched out on the couch and I would've been perfectly happy to doze off just like that. Clint would never cause me scars like that, I thought I was, however, a week away from knowing how wrong that I was. When Clint turned my world upside down with a few short words.

 

"Jen, I have something to tell you. I've been waiting to tell you because I didn't know how." He suddenly looked unusually nervous. "The thing is… I'm gay."