Genderbend Atsushi
⚠️TW⚠️ mentions of abuse
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As I sat down with my friends, I noticed that the grey haired girl was pulling out the same lunch, from the same bag, at the same lunch table as every other day. She was mysterious. People made fun of her for being flat and not being as pretty as other girls, but she never seemed to let that bother her. Another thing I noticed about her was that she tended to wear the same clothes 2-3 times in a row.
I watched her from the corner of my eye as my friends began laughing in her direction like every other day. I didn't like the way they treated her, but I wasn't in the position to say anything because if I did, that would be telling them something about me that nobody knows about.
The bell rang and we discarded our trash before walking to our next class. I watched as she picked up her things and left the room, unconsciously leading us to our next shared class. English.
She sat in the third row, in the third seat from the front. I sat in the next row over in the fourth seat back. As I walked by her, I caught a glimpse of bruises that were being partially concealed by the short sleeved blouse she was wearing.
When did she get those?
The teacher walked in a minute later and examined the class. He must have noticed the bruises because his eyes stopped on her and widened just slightly before he continued. Not too long after, he began today's lesson.
Throughout the entire lesson, I couldn't help but wonder what she's hiding. She never spoke unless spoken to, she appeared to tense up when people started yelling, and when she bumped into someone by accident, she would say sorry even if it was the other person bumping into her.
Many questions slipped through my mind when we were 15 years old.
We are now 18, three years later and I have managed to establish a sense of being distant friends. My adoptive father, his daughter, and I moved into a house next to hers and we became friends through late night talks through our windows. We were both on the second floor and our windows were less than 20 feet apart.
Her hair was always kept short and her bangs were extremely uneven. It looked like someone took a pair of scissors and hacked away in every direction possible. I never commented on it though because just from the little she has told me about her family and herself, she is very insecure and doesn't like when others point out features that make her uncomfortable.
One night, she let slip that she wished she was never born. It was so out of the blue that it caught me off guard. I had my lamp on and was looking over the notes from class to prepare myself for tomorrow's test.
"Why?" I had asked.
"Because it would give more people time to do what they want and get where they are going. They wouldn't have to worry about me and tell me to get out of the way. People would probably be happier anyway." Was her reply.
I didn't know what to say. What could I say when I was given information as dark as that. I wasn't able to form another sentence when she spoke again.
"I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a good day." She murmured, her voice soft and her features relaxed. This was the first time I ever saw her so carefree. Throughout the last few years, bruises began to become more noticable.
The first time I had asked about them, she had said that she is clumsy and that it wasn't anything to worry about. I had brushed it off at the time and thought it to be the truth until the next time I saw her outside of school with her dad that more bruises were on her upper arms and wrists. They were even darker than the others as well.
