A Boy Asked Me to Dance at Prom Because No One Else Would Due to My Scars – The Next Day, His Parents and Officers Showed up at My Door

“Prom happens once.”

Eventually, she wore me down.

We bought a dress. She curled my hair. I spent nearly an hour doing makeup, carefully softening the scars along my neck, even though I knew nothing could erase them completely.

For a moment, standing in front of the mirror, I almost felt pretty.

Then I walked into prom and regretted everything.

The gym looked beautiful, glowing under strings of lights, music pulsing through the floor, everyone laughing and posing for pictures as if they belonged inside the moment.

I stood near the drinks table, pretending to text people who weren’t texting me.

Almost an hour passed.

I was already planning my escape when Caleb walked over.