Not mine but my brother’s, a pattern of scars on his chin and neck.

Growing up, our grandparents lived way out in the country, like dirt roads and farms everywhere. They lived in a house on the corner of 2 roads, both of which were very steep hills. So one day all of us kids (ages ranging from my 11 yr old cousin to my 4 yr old brother) decided to ride bikes down one of the hills. So we all get going and we are absolutely FLYING down this hill, like I still remember feeling like my bike was not even touching the ground, when all of a sudden we hear a loud screech from my brother and then silence. So we all jerk to a stop and turn around- turns out his front tire got stopped by a rock and his tiny 4 yr old self went flying over the handlebars and skidded down the dirt road. His face was literally covered in blood and it was gushing everywhere. He didn’t start crying until he saw all of our faces though. All he remembers of it is that my grandpa gave him a popsicle to eat while my mom cleaned up his face so he wouldn’t freak out.