Late one Friday night, long after my mother had tucked me into bed, my eldest brother Ricky came home. Hoping he would not wake me, he quietly crept into the living room and turned on the TV. With the volume low, he perused the channels, finally settling upon a black-and-white movie. Unbeknownst to him, I peeked out from beneath the covers and was introduced to the 1931 horror classic “Frankenstein.”
SCAR TISSUE
Graphic by Mark Julien. CW: mentions of suicide, pejorative language Words have power. They can bruise and they can cut. Although you cannot see the scars on my skin they are there. I have been carefully and skillfully cut and the…