Okay, that was it. I was done. Every day I had tried so hard to fit in and be normal, but everyone knew this thing about me and would not let it go. Sure, I was an epic, sure I was powerful, but they stopped looking past that. Now, in the middle of the school year, after so long of being avoided, they were asking for help. Another epic had come by. A dangerous one.
He was ruthless, capturing students and suspending them in the air, only to make them watch him go around cutting off limb after limb of others. They were calling to me, wanting me to save them, distract the epic, do anything to help because they knew there was no way they could do anything without losing an arm or a leg, let alone survive. I was the only one that could not be hurt by him.
I watched as one of the more popular kids got strung up by sharp invisible threads. Blood was seeping starting to drip from tightened points on their body. They were the one that told people to avoid me all the time, even if those they were telling had already planned on doing so. I thought back to all the years of loneliness and rejection. I was done. I turned my back to them and listened as they realized and screamed after me. They knew I wouldn’t help, and the panic in their voice was beautiful.
I ran after the epic, who had gone down a different hall, away from where I had been watching. I wanted to help. And so, I did. These people thought, after all their years of torment and avoidance that I would become a hero and save them all. They were wrong, and I was delighted.