The scar tissue that never quite softens

Dear Delyara, The human body carries an archive of every blow it has ever received, and tonight, my shoulder is screaming. It’s a dull, deep ache right where the metal pipe struck me during a chaotic night shift years ago, back when the frontline felt like an active war zone. It isn't just the physical ache; it's the sudden, sickening rush of cold adrenaline that follows it, the instinctive tightening of my jaw, and the way my eyes instantly scan for the nearest exit whenever a door slams too loudly. The injuries heal on paper, the incident reports are filed away, but the trauma lives under the skin like a sleeper cell, waiting for the quietest hour of the night to remind me exactly how fragile I really am.