I find it interesting that people can still hate me. Some of them still throw rocks at me. Others scream and hide their children. And then, some try to kill me.
But I have to protect them. They're my people; it's my duty. I have to stay up all night, keeping them from harm. I have to let my education go down the drain. I have to give up on myself, so I can protect them.
And yet, they still hate me. Normally, I don't care. I find satisfaction in the simple thought that they're safe. I don't need gratitude. I don't even need them to like me. But sometimes, it just gets to me.
I wonder what would happen if I actually did something worthy of their hatred. Would things change, even a little? Or would it be the same controversy of if I'm good or bad. I've actually seen people debating it. It's become a common topic.
Well, my parents are very avid fans of the basis that I'm "evil". But now and then, I catch someone I wouldn't expect talking back to them. Like a classmate who's just a bit too quiet to normally be noticed, standing up, and saying that I'm their hero.
But, I don't think I'm a hero. I'm just doing what anyone else in my shoes would do, right? If anyone else had these powers, I'm sure they'd protect the town as well. I wonder if I didn't have these powers, and I saw someone else doing what I do… I wonder if I'd hate them too.
They don't know me. All they know is what they see on the news, and well, that's never good. The news didn't even get my name right for the longest time. Well, no one really knows me. Sometimes I feel like I'm two different people entirely. Maybe even I don't know myself. It's possible.
But in the end, if they knew what I really was, would they hate me even more?