You have 2 tattoos, one on you left wrist and one on your right. They are names, one is the name of the love of you life, the other is the name of your worst enemy. Your only problem? You don't know which is which.
There's no such thing as normal.
I know that better than anyone.
For the first 11 years of my life, I enjoyed living in blissful ignorance of my true identity, and was able to do things that any "normal" person would do.
Now? I can't walk down the street without having something go horribly wrong.
And all of that trouble is due to my absent mother, my knack for finding myself in problematic situations, and a tattoo on my wrist.
Ever wanted to be a super warrior fighter?
Well, I assure you, it's a lot more trouble than it seems.