I won't lie to you.. this is.. a bit dark, but its just the tip of the iceberg, so if you can't handle this. We might as well end it here because it does get worse.
Much worse.
Don't get delicate now.
Listen to me.
Hear my story.
And tell me, what would you do if you were me?
The first time I went back to school after the haircut, I really thought it would be better. No more "mophead." No more "doggy." Just… no more of the insults.
I told myself this was the new start.
I even looked at my reflection in the mirror and rubbed my scalp, trying to convince myself it felt free. That I would be free. Like it was some kind of reset button.
But the truth hit me quick: they didn't hate me because of my hair.
They just didn't like me.
I was an easy target. Hair or no hair.
The minute I walked into class, the murmurs started. The comments.
"Oh my gosh, she's bald." One boy snickered in shock and amusement.
"They really cut her hair." A girl whispered in wide eyed disbelief.
"She looks like a boy."
That was a sentiment they all seemed to agree upon.
And they were probably right.
My lanky frame made me look more like a boy than a girl. The other girls in my class were starting to develop, their bodies softening, taking on those feminine features.
Mine didn't.
I know I said my face was round, but it wasn't soft. Not like Nicole's. Not like Ellie's.
My eyebrows were naturally thick, dark, and straight. With my hair, I think I leaned more androgynous. But without it? Looking back, I looked like a boy in a skirt.
And they made sure I knew it.
"Hey, he's sitting in the wrong class."
"Why's he wearing a skirt?"
"Maybe Rhea's short for Ryan."
Even the ones who didn't say anything still stared, smirked, or whispered behind their hands.
From that day on, they stopped treating me like the weird girl.
I was the weird boy.
And recess was worse. Do you remember the boy Ryan I told you about earlier?
Nasally brat? Yeah. Him.
Except he wasn't the nasally, slim Jim he was when I first met him. He was big. At least bigger than he was before.
He was threatening.
I barely made it outside before they circled me. A pack of boys—like wolves.
Ryan in front, smirking like he owned the playground.
They pushed me into a corner where no-one could see.
"Are you really a girl?" he asked.
"Definitely not, I mean look" Another boy said as he pointed to my overall appearance.
"Maybe she can prove it"
Ryan smirked "take off your skirt."
Can you believe that? I still can't believe it even all these years later. I was fine with them thinking I was a boy because at this moment I felt so…
Well it's not really important how I felt.
It's in the past.
I said No. Again and again.
But, the chant picked up, other brats behind him.
"Show us."
"Lift up your skirt."
"Yeah, show us! Show us!"
Their voices got louder, My back hit the wall and I realized they weren't going to stop. Ryan reached out, lifting my skirt and I saw flowers.
A field of bright flowers, I could practically smell them and then I heard laughing and talking.
"Guess she is a girl."
"Wanna smell it?" Ryan said holding up his glistening fingers.
"No dude gross!" They chased each other around and I just sat there.
Processing the.. event.
Shame…
Guilt…
Anger, not at him, but at myself …
I'm sorry.
I need a moment.
…..
Sorry…
After that, the bell rang.
I went back to class, pretending nothing was different. But Ryan kept looking at me. Ryan and his little crew, all of them with that same look. That unspoken message in their eyes.
And all I could think, as I dug my nails into my knees under the desk, was:
Please don't tell anyone.
Please don't.
Because if he did, no one would believe me.
No one ever believed me.
No one cared about me.
No one liked me.
And if my mom had ever found out what happened… there would've been no recovery from that.
Thank God she didn't.
But the days after—it changed me.
I became painfully aware of my body. What it lacked. What it was.
After every bath, I sat in front of the mirror, staring at myself My chest was flat. My body was thin and straight, like a ruler. I was so slim you could almost see my ribs. My lady bits? Disgustedme.
I had nothing going for me. Nothing to make me feel like I was actually a girl.
And still, Ryan kept bothering me.
One day at lunch, He called me over.
"Hey, Baldy! Come here."
It felt like I couldn't breathe. My body went stiff. I was frozen in fear.
He called again, harsher, and it snapped me out of it just enough to move.
I walked over to him.
Don't say it was my fault.
I Sat down.
Please don't say it was my fault…
That's all I could think about
And his hand slipped under the table. Roughly guiding my hand to his lap, while his went to my skirt once more.
Please. Just please. Don't tell me it was my fault.
And then I saw them again—those flowers.
So bright. So beautiful. Flowing in the wind.
I just wanted to be there. Laying in that field. Drowing in sweet flowers. Anywhere but here.