Even after hearing in great detail what had happened from Anna’s perspective, Maya still had more questions than answers. However, much to her frustration, there was nothing she could do about it as her own memories were inaccessible.

“I survived… again.”

That innocuous and silly word at the end cost her a great deal at the therapist’s office. Being misinterpreted, she was now relegated to the cold, bland waiting room while the therapist was voicing their concerns to her guardian in the office.

A yawn escaped her. Maya couldn’t help it. Despite being discharged from the hospital the very next day, her stay had been anything but comfortable. The white walls and the incessant beeping of the machines had left her feeling more worn out than she cared to admit.

Being back at the hospital so soon after her father’s funeral opened up festering wounds and brought those painful memories flooding back. On top of that was the constant feeling of being watched, making it hard for Maya to sleep.

Last night, her anxiety was elevated when she noticed a shadow checking on her room through the glass pane of the door.

‘It was that scary woman again…’ her thoughts insisted, even though her rational mind knew they were baseless.

It must have been a nurse doing a nightly routine check, but her mind jumped back to that car crash and the shadow no one believed she had seen. It had haunted her since.

‘Trauma-induced delusions’ was what the therapists and doctors labelled it.

‘But it felt too real. There had to be someone out there. A faceless woman… There just had to be.’

Her father was a sane man and a capable driver, but even he couldn’t explain Maya’s outrageous claims.’It was a wild animal that jumped on the road. There was never a strange woman that watched it all happen.’

Even Maya knew how improbable her claim sounded. A mysterious woman on that remote mountain road? It seemed highly unlikely that anyone would be on foot so far from the nearest settlement. Yet, she remained steadfast in her belief, convinced by what she had seen with her own eyes.

“Wow! Cool tattoos!” A restless child from the waiting room approached her with interest, pulling her out of her thoughts.

He stared at her, now faded, lightning marks.

‘Tattoos?’ The mere suggestion took her by surprise. She never thought of herself as a person who would be interested in such things.

“They’re scars,” Maya corrected him, unsure if her correction was accurate considering the doctor had mentioned that it may not leave permanent marks.

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“No, they’re not. What kind of scars look like that?” he questioned her with a sceptical look.

“Lightning scars.”

His eyes widened. “No way! You’re lying, lady.” The little kid was brash, but it was clear that he was intrigued.

“It’s true. They’re called Lichtenberg figures. Look it up,” she gestured toward his tablet lying forgotten on the seat next to him.

With a shrug of his small shoulders, the kid handed her the tablet, and she quickly typed it into the search bar. As she hit the search button, a brief moment of regret washed over her. She wasn’t sure how kid-friendly the search results would be.

He grabbed it from her the second it loaded. Catching a glimpse of pictures of the scorched ground and burn marks on wooden planks, she let out an inward sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness…’

“Cool. You’re right,” he admitted, his eyes wide with admiration. “Were you really hit by lightning?”

“Yes. It wasn’t fun.”

“What kind of a superhero are you now?”

“A superhero?!” Maya blinked, taken aback by the kid's question.

“You did get powers, right? Like Spider-Man or Batman.”

“I don’t think Batman has powers.”

“Sure he does. He has bat powers. It’s in his name, dummy. What are yours? Are they like lightning? Are you really fast, like Flash?”

Maya wondered to herself. It would be nice if she had some kind of powers. What would they be?

“I don’t know just yet. I’ll let you know when I figure them out.”

She knew that it was unlikely she would encounter this kid again, but she found a strange comfort in entertaining his questions while he waited for his parents. She even managed to smile, a genuine smile — something she hadn’t done in a while.

“Is that why you are here to see a doctor? Because of scars?”

“This is a different kind of doctor.”

“What do you mean? A doctor sees you when you are hurt…”

“Yes. But this doctor looks at a different kind of hurt.”

“Then why are you here?” he pouted.

“My parents died—”

“So, you are a superhero!” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

The dissonance between his excitement and the grim subject matter unsettled Maya.

“Just like Spider-Man or Batman. Their parents died too.”

“Thomas! Leave the poor girl alone,” the kid’s mother intervened just in time, scolding her son as soon as she stepped out of the office and noticed that he was bothering Maya.

After a brief apology, she led her son away, leaving the empty waiting room feel even more desolate.

‘He’s just a kid. He wouldn’t understand the meaning of loss.’

However, it still rattled Maya to see someone jump in excitement after hearing about her loss.

‘…And my superhero name would be Sad-Girl,’ she thought to herself. Even her ironic thoughts were devoid of any real amusement.

In the end, she realized that she was the one who could understand where the kid was coming from. She had always lived in fantasy worlds through reading, wishing for the fantastical powers gained through struggle, not seeing the true pain the characters would go through. In reality, the only power she gained through that loss was the power to be sad.