Dark eyes drifted to the raised bit of tissue as her lips pursed in thought, trying to remember the story so that it could be properly relayed. It took her a moment, but finally, with a quiet laugh, she spoke. "I was a kid. Probably six or seven? I was outside playing with my best friend, Janet Jenkins... She dared me to climb this tree in her yard and jump off the lowest branch. It was a tiny tree. Like maybe a dogwood or something?" she explained, a hand raising so that dainty fingers could trace the mark on her knee.
"I told her no, obviously, but she kept pushing me and it wasn't that big of a jump so I did it. When I landed, my ankles buckled and I fell forward. Landed right on a tiny, sharp rock in the grass. I cried and Janet ran to get my mom, who absolutely flipped and started yelling about how I needed to be more careful and how I was going to have a scar..."
Chrissy's voice trailed off, her fingers still passing over the scar slowly.
"Do you have any scars with silly stories like that?"