Psychological Scars

I don't know. I don't know who put the knife in my body. There's so many birthmarks. Or, at least I think they're birthmarks. I don't remember not having them. When the detectives figured out my birthmarks were the wounds they wondered how I was alive shortly followed by who could hate me so much. They talked to my classmates. One detective had each one say what is their biggest insecurity about their body. No one knew why she required this question to be asked, but were astonished to see that the insecurities of each student I identified as a bully mapped out my birthmarks. They were knives of jealousy.