So... You really want to hear my history? Well, I guess that's a way as good as any other to spend the time we have left, but I'm not sure if I'll be done before we have to split.
Most would say it began with the accident, but I wouldn't be among them, though I must recognize that it played a crucial part on it. No, it all began even before I knew it was happening. Probably before I was even born.
My childhood was as happy as it could have been, but I was prone to spend most of my time with my parents. My mother, being a teacher, taught me to love books from an early age, while, for my father, it was all about food and games when he was around. Life at home was so gratifying that I never felt the need to go out and explore how the world around me really was.
During my first years at school I was a lonely girl because I lacked the expected social skills others take for granted, so, when I made my first friend, I think I thought there was no need for another one. Why would I invest the effort needed to get more of what I already had when I could just enjoy it?
Our time together was truly enjoyable and, from our point of view, days merged into a constant shindig. We were more than friends, sisters if you want, and we shared every single feeling or thought that crossed each others' minds.
I could say it was my fault, that it wasn't sensible to put all my eggs in a single basket, but everyone else got their share of responsibility on how everything developed in the end.
When my mother died, I shut myself out of the world, or at least most of it. Every night, I would run away and sneak into Em's room, looking for support. I knew I was taking advantage of our friendship, but that's what friends are for, to rely on you when at your highest, and support you at your lowest. At least, that's what she made me believe at the time.
After so many sleepless nights, I was already starting to move on. Thanks to her unconditional support, I was slowly coming back to being me. Then, at the worst possible time and after months of literally ignoring me, dad suddenly stuck his nose into my business, sending me to a camp to 'help me get over it'. By then, he was emotionally worst than I was, and I knew it, so I complied. The camp wasn't that bad, but I didn't really knew how to make friends, so I basically spent it alone or with the monitors. All in all, it didn't help me in any noticeable way, but neither did it make me feel worse. However, that time apart was what allowed our relationship to decay, and eventually rotten.
During my absence, Emma found herself alone. Not because she didn't had any other friends, but because I wasn't there, alongside her, every night. During her new-found free time, she thought quite a lot about us or, more specifically, about me. The loss of my mother turned me into a messed-up sobbing wreck. It was a tragedy, but life keeps going and I was clinging to the past way too much.
After giving it a few days of deep thought, she came to realize that we weren't that different in that respect. If the same were to happen to her's… the thought itself made a chill run through her spine. Trying to clear her mind out, she went outside for a walk, in the middle of the night.
That would be fine if we happened to live in, let's say, New York, but we didn't. Brockton Bay wasn't the safest place for anyone to be during the day, let alone for a pretty girl in the darkness of the night. She was lucky, or unlucky, enough that no one noticed her.
After a long while, she reached the end of the good neighborhood, but it wasn't enough. There had to be a way for her prove herself that she was different or, at least, that she could change. If she was able to do it, I should be too. Besides, it may even give her a new point of view into my problem or new tools to use to help me improve faster.
Coming from an alley, she heard muffled screams. That late into the night, there was none else around, so she approached slowly in order to take a peek. There, on the ground, was a dirty, bloodied woman. On top of her, two filthy thugs were satiating their most deviant desires. She was obviously in need of help but, with the rope on her mouth, there was no way for her to ask for actual assistance.
Emma felt the need to be the one supplying it and, if something went wrong, she could scream asking for help. Grabbing a nearby rusted pipe, she pulled with all her strength, but it made no attempt to follow her will. Movies lied to her. After a while, she realized there was no way for her to actually uproot it anytime soon, so she just let her grasp weaken. Soon after that, her knees followed her hands example, letting her fall to the ground crying. She was a weakling, just like Taylor, unable to help even those suffering just a few steps away from her. She didn't even brought her phone, so calling the police wasn't an actual option. Maybe, if she shouted asking for help, a cape would appear and save the day.
By then, she was no longer able to hear the woman pained moans, her own sobs breaking the silence of the night. Too late, she noticed it wasn't just that she couldn't hear the moans, but that they had vanished. Both men were surrounding her, their pants down and a twisted expression of amusement painted over their faces.
"Look at this Dav'! Poor lady is crying, lets have some fun with 'er, shall we?" One of them said while grabbing her by the wrists.
Frightened, she took a second too long to react to the obvious threat and, by then, she was already under an overwhelming grasp. The men dragged her into the alley and threw her on top of their previous victim upon which they began to tear her clothes off.
She resisted as long as she could, kicking and shouting, but they restrained her even stronger, whispering something she was unable to understand into her ear. She had almost given up hope, her eyes covered with tears and almost unable to see what was going on. Then, when she was about to desist, two sharp whistles were heard over the clothes tearing fuss. After what, both men fall on top of her, unmoving and dripping.
It took her a few minutes to recover enough of her strength to remove the unmoving corpses laying over her. When she finally managed to, one of her favorite capes was lazily looking at her while hanging from a sill. Both men were dead, a bolt stuck in each of their backs, their blood covering most of her ragged dress but, given what her back was covered in, blood wasn't really at the top of her 'things to get rid of' list.
"Thanks for your help." Was all she was able to say to her savior. She was more of an avenger than a savior, known for her tendency to apply violence to those who had committed a crime rather than prevent them from committing it.
From her position in the sill, Shadow stalker observer as the young girl stood after freeing herself from the corpses. At first she thought about killing her too, but the girl fought back even when the odds were against her. Most whores around were too coward, too high, or didn't care enough in the first place, to even try to resist when thieves or rapists took advantage of them. This girl was different somehow and that draw her attention.
That's how they met. One could say it was fate but, sometimes, a series of small event set forces into motion which can make their added origins as a whole seem insignificant in comparison. Either way, this one was but an act of divine providence, as far as my definition of divine went. Their two motivations were quite uneven, but the road they would have to walk was the same. The latter wanted to see how far the other would be willing to go, while the former's objective was to free me from the chains of the past. Little they knew about the monster they would bring into existence but, in the end, I guess they both fulfilled their roles perfectly.
For me? It was the beginning of a hellish existence. When I got back from the camp, I guess I went to my friend's house as soon as I could. I missed Emma's support, but I missed even more our time together as friends, having fun and lying around. After I finally reached her door and ringed the bell, someone else opened the door.
The first time I saw her, I thought she was gorgeous, and she knew it. Unlike me, she had a nice figure, her hair seemed nicely brushed and her dark skin was probably as smooth as Emma's, not that I paid any attention to those things back then given how I dressed. Her face spoke of hidden threats, but I probably missed the signals then. I was slightly taken aback when my best friend refused to even speak with me but, when they shut the door on my face, I new something was really wrong.
I hopped it was just some misunderstanding between us, but I was mistaken. From then on, they made their best to shatter any hope I had in a reconciliation. At first, they just made some nasty commentaries about me. Slowly but steadily, as the year went on, they escalated and, eventually, dragged the rest of our classmates into it. They had the upper hand the whole time, being more and having all the knowledge Emma had about me on their side.
After a few months, I began to keep track of their pranks in my diary, but soon I needed a few pages just to keep track of the things I lost each day… well, some lost, others damaged beyond recognition. My homework, photographs, books... Everything I left unattended for more than a few seconds would undergo the same fate.
This kept going on for more than a year, but then, the same way it all began, the harassment came to an end. Suddenly, some of my classmates approached me, at first asking for help with some assignments. After a couple of weeks, right before the holidays, some even invited me to go watch a movie. Emma and her two new friends kept their distance, but mostly ignored me, and that was a remarkable improvement after what I went through during the last year of my life. I should have seen it come. Nothing happens without a reason, and the reason behind my recently improved social situation was to make me let my guard down.
Then, the other shoe dropped. It was on the third day of January… and I hope that wasn't a hint, because there was no way for me to pick it up at the time. Truth be told, I barely remember that day. I know I got into the school ground, I can told you that people was unexpectedly friendly with me, forced smiles displayed by most as I went by. Then, while I was approaching my locker, everyone hid their disgust about the sickening smell soaking into everything around. I don't know why I did nothing, maybe I didn't noticed? I can't tell for sure. I guess that I was so concerned about everyone's attitude that I didn't even acknowledged the pestilence.
When I reached my locker, it was quite obvious that there was something wrong with it. You could almost chew the vapor oozing through the slits. In a rush, I opened it in a meager attempt to recover whatever I had inside at the time.
Unfortunately, as the door opened, the depth of it hit me, and I was unable to keep my breakfast in. While I was still throwing, Sophia took a grip on my hair and pushed me inside of the damned cubbyhole. Closing the door, and locking its lock. They all laugh. After a while, everyone left, leaving me alone. I think I cried or, at least, that's what would make sense.
After who knows how many hours, I triggered. Given the power I got out of it, I guess I truly wished for a way to get out of my prison. I'm not sure of this, not at a hundred percent, but I think that what I got wasn't intended for me, not that it was for anyone else either. It was, a pondered accident.
It wasn't something exceedingly powerful, but it was definitely game-changing. Unfortunately, it didn't came with a manual, so my first use was... misguided. I wished for a place where none would bully me just because they could, where others would get all the attention, leaving me alone and undisturbed. A place were the real monsters were tracked while those unimportant were left alone. I guess you can get what you wish for, and still be disappointed of what you got.
Suddenly, I was no longer within the locker. The brightness difference made it hard for me to got all the details in, not that I needed to see to be able to realize what was going on. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I guess that, technically, the last words I heard were "Put the vial down and back away!" After that, the crashing sound made by a glass breaking and some kind of rifles opening fire startled me.
When my sight was recovering, a stray bullet got me, so I expended my last breath in getting out of there. I didn't know why but, I returned to the disgusting locker rather than, lets say, reappear in my bedroom. By the time the smell reached me again, I was already out of commission.