This scar.

It places me in a setting of anger.

It comes across my face and people call me

Scar.

The lion.

That is partly how I got it though.

I was eight years old.

My parents took me to the

Zoo.

My first time and they wanted a selfie.

I said we should do it by the lions

And we did.

My mom, dad, and I

Stood in front of the lions as my parents

Squished me

And I fell in.

My head hurt bad.

I saw the lion coming towards me

And I thought,

It’s domesticated!

It won’t hurt me.

But I was wrong.

The lion roared as I got up and ran.

I made it to the door

Where the zookeepers take care of the animal

Pen.

The lion came towards me slowly.

My only instinct was to bang on the door.

The lion reached out and scratched my face.

The door opened behind my back and I got pulled in.

I don’t remember what happened after that.