After I took my bandages off two loud shrieks were let out in the room. Both Greta and Ava were extremely surprised, while George had a sickly look on his face. To truly understand their shock you have to realize that I had not made any uncomfortable movements or winces of pain. There was absolutely no sign of pain. It would be like walking around with your friend just to realize his leg is missing.

  “What happened?” Greta asked with a dark look on her face.

  “Didn’t you see the video?” I said in response.

  “But would that do ‘that’ to you?” Ava asked while pointing towards me.

  “I can’t see my own back.” I told her. Ava realized she said something stupid.

  I was glad the room was soundproof, otherwise there might have been more problems. I stood there in silence while they looked at my back. I looked at the bandages I had taken off, they were stained with blood and pus.

  I came to the conclusion that my back was currently bleeding. Which made sense considering the beating I had gotten earlier at lunchtime.

  “Can you get the photographer?” I asked. I didn’t want to just stand shirtless for them to stare at,

  “O-of course.” George stuttered as he picked up his phone. He started and finished his call very quickly, obviously a skill trained as a reporter.

  “This happened at your school?” George followed up with a question.

  “Yes, all the teachers either ignored me or even helped the bullies. There were only a couple of people I could trust in. Everybody else was a predator who was trying to hunt me.” I continued to feed dramatic lines to George. I needed this article to blow up huge, and I was sure with everything happening it would.

  A knock on the door alerted everyone. George cracked the door open and looked out. He then opened the door to a man with a big camera.

  “Hello, my name is Walter, I am the photographer.” Walter introduced himself.

  He met each of our eyes with a smile, but when he saw me his eyes suddenly sharpened.

  “You must be the subject of my photos.” He stated it like a fact.

  “Yes.” I said with a smile.

  “I apologize that such a thing had to happen to you.” He spoke very professionally. He was obviously referring to my injuries.

  “It is too late to go back now, the important thing is that I show the world my story, even if it means having to reveal my injuries.” I spoke with a different intention, and luckily Walter understood.

  We had come to a silent agreement, to make this photo as pitiful as possible.

  “I see, it's good to have a mindset like that. Let's take a couple different shots, then I will choose the best one for the article.” He spoke with a professional smile.

  “Sure, how should we start?” I asked.

  We continued taking different shots for half an hour. Much of the poses were hard to perform with my back. However, there was one pose that Walter liked the most.

  Walter pulled out a tablet and rapidly tapped the screen. He then pulled up a picture of me crouching in a corner.

  My back was a mixture of purple and red, it did not have the color or texture of human skin. Countless bumps and bruises swelling made it look like a pile of rocks. About a dozen open wounds adorned my back and added some more deep red to the mix of colors. The picture made it look like I was hiding behind my injured back. In the picture I look over my shoulder at the camera. The entire picture screamed scared animal, and I knew it would be perfect for the article.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  I gave Walter a thumbs up before haphazardly replacing my bandages and shirt.

  I asked, ”Do you need anything else for the article?”

  “No, this should be enough for now. Here is my business card if you think of anything else.” Ava replied.

  “I have a request.” I spoke calmly.

  “What would that be, Azure?” Ava asked, she intensely interested in my request.

  “Please get this article out as soon as possible.” I said a little desperate. Ava and George were both shocked by my polite words and desperate tone.

  “Sure, we will do our best to get it out as soon as possible.” They both said with the edges of their lips slightly upturned.

  Greta and I left the news station and got picked up by Amanda. I explained everything that happened, and Amanda quietly listened.

  Amanda dropped Greta off at her house, then we returned to Amanda’s house.

  Amanda replaced my bandages and washed my clothes.

  “What are you going to do this weekend?” She asked.

  “I don’t know, rest?” I said, while I started to give the question some thought.

  “I have work.” Amanda said with a little disappointment in her voice.

  “Would you like to talk now?” I asked. This was a guess based on the situation, and I just hoped I was correct.

  “Sure.” She replied, she looked slightly more relaxed now.

  We chatted about some normal topics, and it was going well, until…

  “What are you going to do after the article?” Amanda asked out of nowhere.

  “Johnny is only the midboss, I have something harder waiting after him.” I explained.

  “What are you talking about?” Amanda asked, confused.

  I explained simply about Kurt and the girls, leaving out anything that had to do with my power. As Amanda listened to my story, she slowly became more restless. She was getting lost listening to the disheartened reality of the girls' situations.

  After I was done explaining, Amanda just sat in her chair with cold eyes. Another great person of sympathy.

  “If other people are going through these things…” she stopped abruptly. This was a familiar question, one I had asked myself before.

  “What am I in comparison?” I finished her question for her. Amanda looked surprised at first, but her expression quickly changed to one of guilt. It felt wrong to compare yourself to people who have suffered greatly.

  “You are not worth any less than any other person.” I answered our question. Amanda waited for me to explain, however I did not.

  “Please, tell me the answer.” She asked weakly.

  “Tell me what I’m worth.”

  “Tell me why I continue to suffer.”

  “Tell me why I am alive.”

  Amanda quickly sped up and got out of control. Her desperate urges became much too obvious.

  “You do not belong to me, I cannot tell you your worth.” I answered.

  “Then I will become yours, so tell me.” She replied crazily, and grabbed my leg tightly.

  “Tell me.” she repeated under her breath again and again.

  “That is not what I mean, something only has meaning to its owner. You belong to yourself, and determine your own meaning.” I said quickly while trying to calm myself down.

  “I don’t know anything. I will just become yours, and then you can find my meaning.” She sounded out to herself.

  “Calm down.” I said, but such useless words would never work.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Amanda replied without hesitation.

  “Then trust me on this. You own yourself, it is much better that way.” I told her.

  “But how can I find my meaning that way?” Amanda was slowly cooling down, but it felt like she was falling into a more depressive state.

  “As a human you are given so many things when you are born, however it feels like nothing. Guilt, pride, and sympathy are the potential of human life.” I spoke meaningfully with each word.

  “What does that mean?” Amanda asked, depressed that she did not understand.

  “Meaning is not gifted to us at birth, it is not given to us in childhood. It is something that we have to create for ourselves.” I answered sympathetically.

  “Create my own meaning?” Amanda asked.

  “Yes.” I answered, happy that she understood.