which page Am I?

Everyone thought I wasn’t seeing behind my back. They believed I was breakable. They looked at me like a trash book, covered in dirty ink. But they never knew where the pages were torn, or why. PN One missing piece of paper doesn’t reveal the whole story. You try to hold the book, but you can’t. Now I stand omnipotent in front of you. Unshaken. Unashamed. So come closer— and ask me which page I am.