I have a number of scars, but not all of them are that memorable. However, two are particularly ugly:
When I was about 8 years old, I was climbing a tree that had recently had several dead or dying limbs cut off. As such, there were lots of sharp edges on the thing. I slipped, fell, and caught my armpit on one of the edges. I was hanging by one arm and the wound for several minutes. My mom told me later that when she came to rescue me, she could see the muscle. I still have the Y-shaped scar on my right side.
Also, when I was about 14, I slipped on a concrete slab covered in oyster shells and sliced open the heel of my hand. There was a copious amount of blood that day.