Author's note: I'm going with the common assumption that canon's claim that Taylor doesn't know what a parahuman trigger event is for narrative purposes and/or a mistake, and my Taylor does in fact know it.
This is very much a rough draft at the moment, but I'd like input as to whether this idea holds any interest for people, or it's too cliché to bother with.

A long, long time ago, Emma and I used to talk about what we'd do if we got super powers.

What powers we'd want, who we'd tell, what sort of heroes we'd be.

After Emma turned against me, I'd held on to the idea of getting super powers as a way of getting out of the prison that was my life.

My wish had been granted, but like so many of the classical stories my mother had read to me, my wish was twisted, and now I had nothing. No friends, no family, and, despite technically having a super power, no power at all.

I suppose I'd better explain hadn't I?

Well. Where to start? The locker, I suppose.

I passed out in that locker, whether from physical or mental shock – I don't know.

I woke up a cape. Or, well, given I haven't actually done anything much with my powers yet, a parahuman.

You're probably wondering what my super power is.

Now this one's for the irony. If she'd read it in a book, a story about someone else, my mom would have loved it.

I woke up with the power of invisibility. If only I'd had that before, how much better would have school been after the bullying started? But I guess that's not how the stories all go, because you only get what you want too late.

So now no one can see me, and no one can hear me. It actually would still make for a really great superpower for reconnaissance, oh, but you know what?

I don't have any control over it.

I can't just turn it on and off, I can't use it to hide when I need to – no, I'm just invisible all the time. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I vanished one day and that was the end of that.

I might as well be dead. Barely anyone noticed or cared, which doesn't even surprise me.

For a while after I got powers, the section of corridor with my locker was marked off by police tape. Even in Winlsow, I suppose, a scene that disgusting warranted some attention. Oh, and I suppose the missing student might have gotten a mention.

But a week passed and life went back to normal. The police tape was removed, the locker replaced, the floor cleaned.

Life goes on.

You might be wondering: why am I back at school, the place that felt like a daily prison, the place I have to see every person I've ever personally hated?

Well, for a while I went back home. It's not like my presence or absence at school would matter for attendance.

Even at home, Dad couldn't see me, of course, damn powers, and was understandably distraught. His daughter, his last remaining family, up and vanished one day. And in what circumstances!

He broke the mirror in his bathroom.

I wouldn't normally have gone in there, and just because I'm invisible, I'm not going to start snooping on my own dad, but when I heard the glass break I was worried he'd had an accident.

I found him sobbing on the floor, knuckles bleeding.

I haven't been back since.

I admit, I'm a coward. Dad didn't even cry when mom died, at least, not in front of me. Not even at the funeral. I couldn't bear to watch it, and be unable to do anything to tell him that I'm just invisible now.

So, I haven't been back.

It's not like I can really do anything at home anyway, and I don't really need to sleep as much as I used to. Part of my power, I guess. For a few hours a night I sort of drift off, but it's not like I need a bed or anything. I can choose to sleep more than I need, which I usually do after school. Not much to do when everyone's gone.

I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not home or at school, so I ended up back at school. At least there I can people watch. And listen to the rumor mill, which doesn't go deadly silent when I get close anymore.

I feel a vicious satisfaction about the fact that my disappearance seems to have been pinned on Sophia. They arrested her and everything. Praised be whatever shred of karma was owed my way, because they got her at school, and I saw it all, in glorious Technicolor.

I never know why people say that, Technicolor. The first Technicolor films looked terrible by today's standards. But that's what people say.

She ranted and screamed at the cops, they had to actually cuff her.

I could have died happy, seeing that.

Of course, it didn't last.

Rumor, which spreads faster than wildfire in schools, and that I was now finally privy to, says she's out on bail but that they're charging her with all sorts of things, including murder:

"…uncle says… manslaughter or even just assault by the time …"

"… evidence showing..."

"… Madison cooperating…"

"… witnesses but only…"

"… no sign… body…"

"… probably a plea deal…"

Blah blah legal mumbo jumbo

. I suppose they've probably got a somewhat weak case with no body. Like sure, they could ASSUME that somehow Sophia hid the body, but I guess they can't prove any more than several witnesses – not the least of which is Madison, apparently, the little rat – saw, which is only her pushing me into the locker.

While I was still home, I saw the cops searching the house, too, and they found my documentation of the bullying. When dad read it, his face went white.

At least I guess they might get her for assault.

Anyway, Sophia's gone, however temporarily, Madison and Emma both are staying away from each other. Everyone else is mostly avoiding the two of them, probably for fear of trouble rubbing off on them, though some people are starting to warm up to Madison again, mostly because she's spilling all the nitty gritty details of her own interrogation. It just figures that she'd use both having been part of the crime, and having tattled on her co-conspirators, as a leg up the social ladder.

Emma's grounded, I think, because she's never got her phone with her anymore, and straight after school she gets picked up by her frowning mom. The rumor mill's been throwing the grounded word around, much like you might talk of an unsavory disease. I heard she was… you know… grounded. Sympathetic gasps usually follow.

It's interesting seeing the social order turn itself inside out. The trio used to be the top of the pecking order, at least certainly within our grade, and pretty high up in the rest of the school, too, but now barely anyone talks to them. They're not bullied, but they're the next best thing – ignored to their face, but whispered about behind cupped hands, just on the edge of their hearing. In a way, it's a form of bullying. At least, they certainly used such tactics against me. This time, it's not manufactured, or intentional, though, and in some ways that makes it worse, I imagine. At least when people were talking about me "behind my back" I knew exactly what they were saying, because they said it loudly and proudly to my face, too.

Sophia gets back a few days after her arrest. Greatly subdued and sullen, but back. I guess she really did get out on bail.

All three of them continue staying away from each other in public, but in private – well. Now that I was effectively a ghost, could you blame me for following when Sophia dragged Emma to the bathrooms when she caught her alone?

I catch the end of a sentence that Sophia is hissing at cowed Emma:

"-violated probation, and now I get a double whammy for before and this so-called murder bullshit!"

Emma shakes off Sophia's hand where it's gripping her sweater. "Can't they just get you another deal? Isn't that the whole point, they need you so they'll sweep all your baggage under the rug? They did when that bitch tattled to the teachers!"

I freeze.

I came here for the schadenfreude of watching Sophia freak out as her life falls apart, maybe watch Emma turn on her like she'd turned on me, but this…

I'd never expected this.

I feel like an icy cold hand is squeezing the life out of my heart.

Sophia sneers. "That was between Blackwell and the Case Bitch. Now it's gone higher up the ladder, and they're actually expelling me from the Wards. Me! Expel! Like I ever fucking wanted to be there in the first fucking place!"

Oh no.

I feel my legs give way under me and I slide to the floor.

This… suddenly makes a lot of sense. Sophia, in the Wards. The villains in Brockton Bay outnumber the heroes three to one. Of course they'd let her get away with murder. There's only two female Wards in town, as far as I know, and Vista is too young and too white to be her, so… yes, "reformed" violent ex-vigilante Shadow Stalker, out on probation… only now she might actually be tried for a murder they can't cover up.

I start to giggle helplessly. A murder that didn't actually happen, because I'm still right here. It's almost like I faked my own death and set her up. I couldn't have done it better if I'd planned it myself. Seeing her like this, losing all her special rights, everything she values, being on the wrong end of social ostracization…

And all it took was my death.

My laughter turns a little hysterical.

All it took was a murder that she may as well have committed, for all that I really could have died in there if I hadn't triggered with the power to be incorporeal and phase through the locker door. A murder that may as well have happened, as far as my dad knew, and as far as my ability to live a normal life was concerned.

I'm sobbing now.

I should feel weird about crying in front of those two bitches, but it's not like they can hear me. And to be honest, if they could hear me, I'd be glad to wail and scream at them.

I actually contemplate that idea, and while they're still arguing over whether Sophia is going back to juvie or to prison, I clamber back to my feet, and make my way over to them.

I let out a scream of all my anger and frustration into Sophia's face. I try to grab and shake Emma by the shoulders.

Emma's face turns white. She's not looking right at me, she's looking through me, behind me.

I turn around to see what could possibly have her attention that's more important right now.

Sophia's eyes are wide and staring at nearly the same spot in the bathroom mirror.

I look in the mirror, and for the first time since the locker, I can see myself staring back, eyes wide with shock.

- To be continued. -