Confusion (probably not the final title)

Part 1 - Questions

"New year, new me."

That's the phrase most people use at the start of the school year. That was never the case for me. I have always been the same timid teacher's pet for the past four years at this school. Why change now? Only one more year and then I'll be out of this torment. No more bullies. No more nagging parents. No more suffering for the enjoyment of others. I will finally be able to be me, Dani... whoever Dani is.

The questioning started on the school bus. When I wasn't being attacked by bullies, I would stare out of the window as thoughts rushed through my mind like the trees outside speeding past me view in a blur. One after another, questions would come and go. Just as fast as they'd arrive, they would vanish. So last summer, I decided to take it upon myself to discover who I really am. Days turned to weeks as I tried to describe the emotions I was feeling. It was only when my family and I went on vacation to the Caribbean that I finally understood what dysphoria was. Every day I would refuse to wear just a bikini. I realised how much hatred I had for my body. I would look at myself in the mirror and cry. "This isn't me. I don't belong in this body," I thought to myself almost every night. 

It took me a week or so after we got back home to look back at the pictures from the trip. When I did, I was so confused. I loved them. My long ginger curly hair, my curves, my outfits, everything felt so authentically right. The month that followed, I spent desperately researching for an answer. Why did I hate myself so much then but not now? That leads me to now, stepping onto the same school bus, same baggy hoodies, same ripped jeans, same bullies laughing at me, same questions rushing through my mind only they were louder, more deafening. My headphones may be protecting me from the hurtful words of my peers but they had no effect on the voice inside my head. 

The first day is always the worst when it comes to bullying. Today is no different. As I go to stand up from my seat, one of the other seniors grabs my arm and pins me to my seat. "Thought you could hide from me this year?" The deep growling voice sent chills down my spine. I didn't have to look up to know it was Dwayne. I shake my head cowardly as he smirks at me. "Get up," he demands and I follow his orders; I have no other choice as he drags me off of the bus and pulls me out of view of the teachers. "I am gonna make this year a living hell for you, worse than any other year," he says, his low voice making my heart thump in my chest. I look up at him and nod sadly, knowing that there was no point in retaliating as I would just end up in a worse position. As I look up at him, the questions return which blocks out any of his words. My mind zones back in again when I feel something hot flow down my back. My soup. I sigh and let the process happen, ignoring his jokes about my hair, comparing them to the tomato soup that now covers my hair. He is just about to walk off when I notice a figure towering over him from behind. My eyes widen as he feels the presence and scurries off, allowing me to see the person stood in front of me. The figure's stern expression turns into a smile of compassion as his gaze goes from Dwayne to me. "Come on. I'll deal with him later. You need cleaning up first," his hand reaches out towards me. "I'm Mr Spencer but just call me Mr S."