Why... why why why? Why does the world go round? Why was I cursed? Why do humans walk on two feet and not four? Why was the world created? Why not?
     A girl, the age of 16, sat in a classroom at a desk showing no sign of paying attention, lost in the thoughts of her head. A notebook sat on the desk with doodles of differently designed question marks covering the open pages. This girl was not like anybody else in the class. She had a special mark, one that looked just like a question mark. The girl had long, wavy, black hair that stopped just above her butt. She wore a black beanie on top of her long black hair just before her bangs. This girl wore the school uniform, well a modified version that better suits herself. The uniform she wore was a black tank top, fit tightly to her body, with a black miniskirt also tightly fit to her body. With this she stood out from The rest of the class. Everybody else in the class wore the uniform and looked practically the same in how they kept themselves. The uniform for girls was a black skirt that came mid-thigh and a black blazer over a white tank top. The males was similar however they wore slacks instead of skirts and a tee shirt instead of a tank top. The question mark symbol was clearly visible on the inordinately girls right thigh just below the skirt.
The teacher of the class spoke directly to this special girl. "Naze, answer the question on the board."
     Naze looked up at the woman with her black colored eyes and smirked calmly before she spoke, "The only questions I'm looking to answer are the ones inside my head." Her voice is calm yet fierce, and has a sense of danger in it. Naze smirked again as she saw the teacher's face show true terror.
     "G-go to the office right now you witch!" Naze got up and walked up to the teacher who was as far against the wall as she could be.
     "You're so weak, scared of a little high school girl. I'll go, but it won't be to the office, next time, get some guts before trying to order me around dumb bitch. Also, don't call me a witch, I have no powers you whore. Learn your myths lady." She walked out of the classroom making her way to the place she currently calls home, leaving her notebook on her desk, knowing it would be there when she went back the next day.
     Naze walked home, where she lives alone in a one bedroom apartment with barely any food or anything that she can actually live with. Any food has been stolen for herself to survive, alone with many other things in the apartment. The apartment has a front room that consists of only a couch that she sleeps on. Off to the left there's a small kitchen with a fridge, oven, and cupboards with a few dishes and a bit of food. The bedroom was on the other side of the front room and it had some scattered papers on the floor along with a semi large, wooden, desk that looked hand made. A bathroom was then connected to this bedroom. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat on the couch while drinking from the bottle.
     Why do I make everybody scared of me? Why do I shut everybody out? Why do I make everything so complicated? Why is everybody scared of me?
     She took another drink from her water bottle, "This would be better if it were Vodka," she mumbled to herself. Naze set down the bottle of water, she then went into the bathroom. The marked girl slid off her skirt than her tank top, wearing black underwear and bra underneath. She grabbed a wet wash cloth to gently wipe off the make up on her arms and legs revealing countless cuts, bruises and burns on her body. Some were on her stomach and back as well. "It's getting annoying having to hide these every day. Maybe I should just let everybody see them and judge me even more." She sighed and sat down on the toilet and looked down at the question mark on her thigh.
     "No matter how hard I try this damn thing won't go away!" Naze grabbed her knife and thrusted it into her tattoo but nothing happened to it. There are scars all around the tattoo but not on it. She screams and cuts deep into her thigh, in several places, on both thighs. Blood poored down her legs as her eyes turn lifeless looking down at her bleeding legs. Naze throws the knife into the wall where many others are. With blood soaked legs and blood soaked bathroom floor she got up, taking off her bra and underwear, and turned on the shower as hot as it went. Stepping into the shower the girl bit her lip hard as she strived to feel anything other than hatred for herself. The almost boiling hot water ran down her back cleaning off the blood and stinging the person it came from. The girl stayed there for what seemed like hours but in reality was only minuets before she walked out and grabbed a towel wrapping it around herself tying it above her chest. She walks out of the bathroom and flops down onto the couch wincing in pain from her scars. She stares up at the ceiling numb, and lost in her thoughts, trying to answer every question on her mind.
     Why does everybody hate me? Why am I like this? Why can't I change? Why do I question everything? Why am I so dumb? Why can I never do anything right? Why...?