I'd spent the majority of 's class scrunching and unfurling the same sheet of paper. It was my third period, world issues, and my last one before lunch. Recently any discussion on capes drew me in, but lunch was five minutes away and drawing nearer. My back and shoulders were stiff while I sat hunched over in my attempt to take up as small a space as possible.
Occasionally I would glance towards or "Mr. G" as he insisted to be called. He was a squat man in his mid to late twenties, and as per usual held a dopey smile stretched across his face. always seemed animated during his lectures, arms flailing all throughout as if to bring emphasis to his points. I was curious how well he could maintain his attitude if he were crumpled like my ball of paper. I tried to discourage the thought but as quickly as it came so did a smile across my face.
Unfortunately, my smile had not gone unnoticed, the sound of giggling that followed sent a chill down my spine. The giggle had belonged to Madison Clements a member of "the trio." That laugh meant the beginning of a terrible next couple of days once I had the attention of one of them the others weren't far behind.
They'd start small and then escalate from thumbtacks in every chair, to some of my things becoming damaged or missing, then finally a shove down a flight of stairs. Each altercation went on without interference, as if no one could see me when I needed help. Why would they? Among our peers the trio were popular and beautiful it wasn't hard to picture everyone else ignoring me to stay on their good side.
Madison was cute in a youthful and innocent sense for the time being she had the right figure to pull it off petite but just enough not to be off putting. She was the focus of plenty of guys, and they kept her happy whether that meant laughing at her jokes or joining in on one, unfortunately I was a regular punchline.
To the administration it was my word against theirs, eventually the pointless routine just got depressing. They could do whatever they wanted and they knew it. The only reason I could conceive for the trio to leave me alone was to hadn't been a single attack since the 'chest's incident a few months ago.
I didn't come back to school until they called home alerting my father to my absences.I tried reassuring myself things were different now and for multiple reasons. But for every passing day that hope loss credibility.
I entirely stopped listening to the class,the possibility of an impending situation weighed heavier than some stupid class.I rolled my ball towards the edge of the desk and looked up; the clock showed five minutes left the prospect of lunch remained as unappealing as it ever had. Before I could reach for it a hand from behind snatched up the crumpled paper first.
"Oh hi Ms. Herbert mind if I borrow this?" asked while the class broke out in sparse laughter a release to the previously held silence.
Before I could correct him had already pivoted into a slight hop,he made a 'swish' sound just before taking his shot. His aim would have come off short if it weren't for the ball bouncing off Greg Verder's round head.
"Sorry about that Vader!"The teacher said among the class laughter.
"So Taylor now that I'm sure I have your attention can you tell me what we were talking about for the last hour?"
He stood in front of me, only slightly taller than me while sitting in my chair. If this were another time or place things would be different, I would be different. I could silence him with a look. But now all I could do was awkwardly look at his forehead. After a few moments of this, he understood that he wouldn't get an answer.
"Its alright Taylor," he said while leaning down to slowly pat my shoulder.
Turning towards the rest of the class,"Sorry guys but looks like you're gonna have some homework for the weekend," he said to a collective groan.
"Now now," he said hands raised in a soothing gesture,"the assignment isn't mandatory -"
I stopped listening but did notice a mention of pizza that was met with student cheers. I watched with anticipation as took his bow before ending class a minute early. Thus began the chorus of slammed book and skidding chairs as the class was reduced to students flocked around Mr. Gladly obscuring his view of me and more importantly the door.
I quickly gathered my things briskly walking out of the classroom. Before I left, however, a paper ball bounced off my head. I turned to see who it was despite the obvious answer. Madison sat there with a broad smile while her entourage of sycophants offered more crumpled up papers for her to throw.
I left quickly both to avoid further annoyance and that her smile was enough to make my blood boil. Recently looking at Madison or any of the trio for that matter made it difficult to stay calm. Pacing through Winslows decrepit halls I did my best to ignore the faint stench from some busted pipes. I avoided entering the first bathroom I came across. It was the closest to the lunchroom and would be the first place they'd look if they were to search. The bell rang flooding the corridor with bodies. Increasing the pace I couldn't help but to let my eyes wander. Not only was I unsure of the likelihood of running into one of the girls, but I wasn't too excited about bumping into a different type of wrong persons.
Winslow was over packed with students a fact reflected in the overlapping gang tags that merged into an extensive ugly blotch covering several lockers and the bathroom door. The school was notorious for its gang affiliations but to actually see it was completely different. Only a quarter of the school was comprised of regular students. The rest of the student body was a rough balance of the Nazi skinheads, A.B.B thugs, or Merchant the potential fallout of open violence kept them in check.
Despite classes officially ending only a few minutes ago the girls bathroom was bustling with activity. I was forced to wait for a stall. Standing idly by I hadn't noticed when exactly I'd begun playing with my hair. I either tugged at it or spun it around my finger. I remembered a time when my lengthy blonde curls were my favorite feature. Back when we were younger Emma would spend hours styling it. But despite it now being my only feature I could call feminine it was also a reminder of the woman who gave it to me.
With that thought I returned my hand firmly to my side, today had been rough already no point in making it worse. It was a bit of a wait for the stall door to open but by the time it had the bathroom had nearly cleared out. Locking the stall door, I lowered the seat as I got settled for lunch. The trio took the lunchroom from me months ago but at least I had this small respite. I opened my backpack to retrieve my sandwich and book. I propped the book open on my knees assigning one hand to my book and the other to my meal.
The book I was called 'Eden: behind the numbers.' The book was authored by the charity that shared its namesake. Eden was branded as a safe haven for capes whose powers were dangerous to both the host themselves and the public, otherwise known as case 53's. Essentially the book was structured as a set of interviews with select parahumans. I was pretty sure that along with consent the group had also chosen their candidates with perception in mind. Apparently the severity of some Case 53's was common knowledge so it was smart of the authors to choose the less disturbing ones.
I finished Welds interview and started on Simurghs. Next to her entry was a tall woman with porcelain white skin. Her regal face and flowing feathered 'hair' made her look closer to a doll than a former human. Apparently she was a healer who had recently started working with the P.R.T. It was a common theme, no matter the quality of the hand dealt to them, each of the people interviewed were making strides for the better. They were facing their problems one day at a time just like me.
So why aren't things getting any better? If things got too bad there was always a solution to my immediate problems, but it would only sprout more down the road. Still the idea of enduring years of abuse for a diploma seemed increasingly foolish.
The combination of a neighboring flush and the barging of the door stirred me from my thoughts. The sound of the three familiar giggles that followed caused me to choke on my food. Even with all that had happened in the months following the 'chest prank' memories of it and the people behind it still affected me. I briefly experienced relief, not in a joyful sense but more akin to closure, no more waiting for the inevitable.
"There she is," I heard Madison say in her childish tone.
From both sides of the stall I could hear the girls set down some sort of container with a heavy thud.
"Emma stop ,don't do this," I pleaded. I knew it was useless but still had to try.
I dropped everything to try pushing open the door but to no avail. Sophia must've been blocking it.
"Aww Taylor you sound stressed out," said Emma in a mockingly concerned tone, "here we've got just the thing."
She and Madison then dumped a thick, sticky, and colorful liquid on top of me and my things. The pouring liquid managed to slip my glasses off my face. I did my best to shield my eyes but with only my hands most of it managed to get through. The floor was slippery and with all my things behind me I didn't trust myself to reach for it without falling in the process.
Since the bullying first started I began showing less skin with my clothes in a vain attempt at camouflage. Where the substance had met clothing it seeped in causing it too cling to my body. Conversely exposed areas felt like they were lit on fire my hands, face, and eyes burning upon contact. They kept this up for what felt like several minutes even working in a rhythm to avoid pausing.
The hollow thuds against my head and back signified the end of their assault. I moved slightly to my left or right in a pathetic attempt to dodge any of the emptied bottles. Every last one of them hit their mark. Some of them still having enough of their contents to hit harder than the rest, I could sense the bruises form underneath the skin.
Uselessly I rubbed the scalding chemicals from my eyes. Yet again I listened to their laughter ,only now it renewed old memories like a ripped scab bleeding needlessly. Internally I felt a blend of emotion and something more build up pressure, seething without release.
"You know what I've tried for years to find the right look for Taylor after all this time I think we've got it."
I ignored the pain in my eyes to look up and see Emma, Madison, and Sophia staring down on me with glee. Even while half blind I could make out the tangle of red hair and the dark athletic build belonging to Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess respectively.
Unlike Madison ,Sophia and Emma personified the "prom queen" stereotype of beauty. With the curves and confidence I could never hope to naturally have. Especially now, compared to them I was little more than a smudge on the floor. I tried to get up, my body shaking with anger I was about halfway there until I slipped and fell forward with a sickening snap.
I ignored the following taunts too angry to care about them or to respond with words. I could feel the red-hot liquid pulse through my veins almost threatening to actions would speak for me. Glaring into Emma's eyes for a moment I thought her face was flushed with fear. Without thinking I leapt up towards her. I didn't know what I'd do only that it should hurt. Before I could close the distance however, Sophia was between us.
I hadn't considered Emma's shadow. She intercepted me, using my own momentum she tossed me forward beneath the bathroom sinks. The small bucket wasn't enough to cushion the crash and I rammed face first into the dusty tile too stunned to move.
"Geez Taylor you perv,I hope it stings freak." Those had been the last words I heard from Emma before she and the rest of the trio left me alone in the bathroom.
It took more than a few moments for me to rise to my feet taking slow, deep, and steady breaths as I did so. Sweat dripped around my back and forehead. I needed to get cleaned up, running the water of a faucet I'd begun rinsing out my eyes.
No sooner did I see my reflection that I could make out the remains of my things. My glasses were broken, likely from my first fall. My book and lunch were similarly loss causes, but my backpack was a different story. It was a sopping mess, from my current perspective I could see where, besides me, the trio had focused their attack. To make matters worse my backpack had been left open.
I'd learned better than to leave my textbooks in my locker since the beginning of the year. Carrying everything made my backpack heavy but that hasn't been an issue recently, up until now anyway. The last part of "the trio's" prank was the color everything including my hair clothes and backpack were dyed in the colors of a rainbow.
In the brief moments between the ignition and explosion relief washed through walls were slathered with waves red, a torrent running through the bathroom. At the same time my hands grew to encompass the small sink where small cracks formed at my touch. The room took on a red tint.
"Fuck!" I shouted as I stomped my way towards my former stall, the dark red liquid parting before my every step.
I grabbed a hold of my ruined book throwing it towards the mirror cracking it. My shoes were stretched to their limits and my scalp was scraping against the ceiling but I didn't care. I brought the backpack itself between my hands and squeezed it until could feel all the textbooks crumple in my grasp. With a single hand I chucked the clump of garbage towards a trash bin only for it to bounce off with a resounding crash.
I tried to speak but in the place of words a, yell that rolled into a lengthy roar, parted from my lips. My breathing came out ragged and slow.
Slightly calmed I came to the realization that I was probably being too loud. I was so wrapped up in my emotions I barely registered the bloody substance permeating the whole area. A force bigger than the entire room.
I was connected to everything; the flow of the a/c, to the hum of the electricity in the bulbs, and the puddle of chemicals spreading underneath the stalls. I would have preferred if it could consume the dye and clean me in the process. But alas, it could only move it around drying my off but leaving the stains intact. Still I had an important question to decide the answer to.
What was I gonna do?
For the first time since the transformation, I took a deep breath.I walked back to the sink with the cracked mirror taking several more as I did so. I needed to turn back and to do that I needed to calm down, If anyone walked in at the wrong moment that was it for me.
My skin was bright red, a far cry from my usual pale complexion. My already above average height was exaggerated, forcing me to lean down to see my face in the reflection. After the transition my hair and eyes were completely black where they had been blonde and brown respectively. Lastly, my transformation brought with it muscle mass that filled out my previously lacking figure. Regrettably that was the limits of my enhancements. I was calm enough to bring myself back to normal, but why should I?
If I chose to, I could leave the bathroom, find the trio, and make them regret ever hurting me. Heck with my powers it wouldn't be much trouble anyway. But if I did, there is no going back, sure the trio would be gone but the rest of my life would be spent in a prison like the birdcage or worse. Additionally, with four separate hero teams native to Brockton there'd be no escape.
I released a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. No point in considering the impossible. Even after everything she'd done I couldn't see myself hurting Emma or her lackeys. A part of her had been my closest friend in the years before Winslow. At one point she was the only reason I chose this school but now I doubted we'd ever be friends again.
Truth be told neither of us were actually evil. I faced real monsters before and would do so again on the streets of Brockton. Even better during those time I had a partner to guide me. From that head space I was able to muster the right emotions to change back. It was 'Peace' that I used to recall the rivers back into my body. The word less important than the sentiment, deliberate action over rage and impulse.
My body degraded into its regular shape with my clothes now stretched a size bigger rendering the baggier clothes even more so. The dye still clung to my hair, skin, and clothes if only now as somewhat lighter stains. Sophia was in my next class but there was no way in hell I'd give her the satisfaction and display her handiwork. I quickly re-tied my shoes before leaving the bathroom in a light jog.
I noticed Greg Verder nervously pacing outside the bathroom door waiting for me, I gave him no attention. Nor did I care about any of the curious looks from onlookers or the staff. I picked up the pace of my jog and with a growing smile across my face. I left Winslow to be a hero.