Tell your story#7(Curiousity)

Greetings beautiful steemians
Hope you're doing well. It's yet another week of the contest Tell your story#7 by @ruthjoe. Thank you ma'am.

I want to share with you all the story of a curious little girl. Her family use to call her "madam tester" that's because she likes to try and experience everything. Curiosity always gets ahead of her before reasoning... This story happened a long time ago but the lesson lasts forever.

I live in Uyo. A town in Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria. Before the ban of ridding motorbike in town, dad owned a bike that he use to commute around. He would take us to school on it and other places. And when he wasn't using the bike, he packed it at the backyard. In my side, we call it machine.

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When I was in basic 1, I noticed that some pupils in school had this scar on their leg. It was as a result of burn from hot exhaust pipe of a bike. It was common at that time. Most people I know had the scar and weirdly, I like that scar. It looked beautiful on the leg and I wanted to have it too. Daddy had a bike all I needed was to get my legs to touch the hot exhaust pipe.

This realisation made me develop a habit of always talking my leg close to the exhaust pipe whenever I entered the backyard and the bike was parked. But each time, it was either cold already or warm and unable to burn. Unconsciously, I had gotten use to this and kept one hoping to meet it hot someday.

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So one evening daddy had just returned with the bike few minutes ago and I wanted to go outside to play so I used the backyard. When I got to where the bike was, as usual I took my legs and positioned it close to the exhaust pipe. "Arghhhh" finally it was hot and it hurt. I screamed at started crying. I didn't know that daddy was close by and saw me intentionally take my leg to the pipe. He rushed at me and first of all hit me on my back, ah in addition to my pains.. before mom and my siblings came out.

It wasn't what I expected. I didn't think of the pain and mine was even bigger compared to the size in other people. After yelling at me, dad went and got his engine oil to apply on the injury so it doesn't get worse according to him. When I was asked why I took my legs to the exhaust pipe, I couldn't answer. How do I tell my parents that I liked the scar or that it wasn't my first time. Obviously dad saw it wasn't a mistake.

The next day the injury got messy, I was disgusted at the sight. Not to mention I woke up feeling feverish and sick. The pains I felt especially when applying ointment, the medication, leaping amongst other were things I should had thought of before seeking a scar.
I took months to heal completely.

Finally I got my most admired scar. I was finally in the club but it wasn't as appealing as I thought. In fact I started noticing more pupils with scarless legs. But I had to deal with what I got.

When I look at my right leg, it reminds me of the curious girl who wants to experience everything. I regret that part of curiousity. I imagine my leg without that intentional scar sometimes but it's now part of me.

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That experience made me realise that not everything is as it seems. It may seem right today but can birth regret tomorrow. I refrain from using myself as a specimen for experiment.
Every scar has a story.
With growth comes deep sense of reasoning way beyond impulsive actions.

Thank you for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed reading.
I'll like to invite @joan-na and @stef1 to share a story.