Chapter 11: Art concept.

Mr. Kieser's POV

I have been concerned about Henrietta ever since she began my class at the beginning of the year.

Not that her art work doesn't make up for it. In fact it's beyond amazing of what this student can do. I did not choose her to be in the art showcase for nothing.

She just has been acting like a hermit. While her classmates flourish in their showing off their personalities, she lacks in it. She doesn't want to participate when she is not require to. She goes straight for the back of the class. All she wants to do is be like a shadow. Nothing you would ever see or hear, but you it exists.

I make my rounds in the class and stop at Henrietta's desk last. She makes no sudden move at my presence as she swiftly sketches her work like soft classical music.

Today she has decided to draw a fairy. But not like a fairy with pixie like wings. It's a fairy with big beautiful butterfly wings that transitions into amazing bird like wings. The color in the fairy's eyes is what draws me to them. Like the fairy has possessed me with just a single look with it's cat like eyes. It's truly meant for the art showcase. It would have looked like a disaster into mixing two different concepts, but the way she does it is nothing short of being in a frame.

" Excellent job." I told her in encouragement.

She only shrugs as she goes back to her work. Once again not taking any pride in herself like she should.

I look at the clock of the time and saw that it was way past the time to dismiss my class for the day.

" Class dismissed." I told the class. Everyone's heads perk up at that it's finally over for the day and they all start to put away their art supplies.

I watch as they past me as they turn in their daily assignments. Henrietta is the last one as usually to hand me hers and she tries to get out of my classroom as fast as possible. But I'm not going to let her have it.

" Ah. Ah." I call to her. " Just where do you think you're going."

" Study Hall." She meekly says.

" You can afford a few minutes. I need to talk to you about your concept. Close the door." I told her.

She nods at me and closes the classroom door. She comes back and tells me fast and quickly, " I don't have a concept."

" Well that's what we need to figure out while we're here right now." I said to her.

She scoffs, " Look. I don't know what I want to draw about. To be frank, I still don't want to do this and yet you're making me. That's how I feel about this."

Any teacher would give her a detention on the spot if they heard her say something like that to their face. But I see thing differently.

" It's good that you are expressing your opinion. Tell me right now: Why do you hate being in the showcase." I asked.

" Oh. Great. Another interrogation." She groans in frustration.

" Come on. Give me an answer." I tell her.

" Because I hate attention. I don't like being in the spotlight like some animal in a zoo. I prefer things my way." She said.

" What is your way? How would you have things done if it were your way?" I asked.

" I don't know! I just want to stay out of things! Not be in them like you're making me!" She almost yells.

"That's your problem Henrietta. Is that you don't know what your way is. You rather hide from your problems than being upfront about them." I said to her.

She stays silent as she sits down in a chair puts her face in her hands out of frustration.

" I don't know." She mumbles. " I don't know. I just don't like change in my life."

" That's it. " I told her as I put a hand on her shoulder. " That's your concept. That's what you should do."

" What? What are you talking about?" She asks out of confusion. Perfectly understandable.

" Change." I told her.

" Change? What's that suppose to mean?" She raises an eyebrow.

" Change seems to be a part of you Henrietta. You can either hate it, love it or even fear it. Make your artwork about how you feel about change." I explain to my student.

" Change." She says to herself. I have no idea what she's going to say about it.

" I have confidence in you. You will do a great job. Forgive me for telling you a boring famous quote, but you need to believe in yourself. Don't let others tell you otherwise. They are just nothing but obstacles in your way." I tell her to encourage her.

She stands up harshly with her head down. Her fists are clenched and shaking with strong emotions.

" You don't know my obstacles." She said with anger under her breath as she becomes more louder. " You don't know me. You don't know anything!"

She darts out of the classroom with me feeling stunned with what she had to say.


Hiccup's POV

I'm pissed off. I am so pissed off. Mr. Kieser doesn't know anything about me! He doesn't know what I have to struggle with every single day!

I ran to the first place that I can think of: A bathroom stall.

I quickly pass a few girls and lock myself in the tiny stall trying to overcome so much emotions. But in a way, it makes me feel worse that I am in a tiny place surrounded by people who I don't belong with.

I don't know what's happening to me. Unlike last week, where I wanted to keep everything a secret, I want nothing more than to talk to someone about it. About how different I am from the crowd. About who I am and what I want to be.

But I can't. No one can know. No one can understand. I'm just a freak. A freak that shouldn't belong.

That's how the world works. That's how I work.

I suddenly start clutching on to my chest as I feel pain erupt in that area. So much pain. The pain that knocks out your breath. It was taking place under my binders

Something must happened while I was running down the hallway. Now that I mentioned it, I did feel a punch like sensation there.

" Ow." I gasped as I slowly shrug off my green hoodie despite the pain. I almost tear up from the throbbing pain." Ow."

I pull the collar of my t-shirt to see what was going on down there. My normally pale skin was red and inflamed surrounding the binders.

Now that I remember it, I used a different kind of bandage this morning instead of my usually binder material because I ran out of the material. It was a lot more stretchy and compressive than my other one, but it's not meant for strapping down breasts. It was meant for wrapping sports injuries.

Gods. I am so stupid right now for not realizing this. This is one of the many no nos for binding breasts. Now I either have bruised my ribs or broken them because of my mistakes.

I go under my shirt and gently take off the disastrous binder. Now I don't have any to keep them down, but I can't injury them even more.

It took forever, but I finally got the thing unraveled and loosened. I gasp in relief as I pull the thing out of my shirt and throw it in the trash beside me in the stall. It still feels extremely painful though from my stupidity.

I feel around my chest. So far it feels very bruised and some really bad skin irritation from the binder. However, I don't feel anything broken. That's a good sign. A very good sign.

I gasp in relief of my assessment of the injury. It's nothing serious and it will heal on it's own. I just can't wear a binder for the next few days. It sucks, but I'll live.

I carefully shrug back on my hoodie and slowly stand myself back onto my feet. Ok. So far so good. Now I just have to get my backpack and get out of here like it was nothing.

But there was one problem. I can't seem to make myself bend forward without feeling intense pain. Not even slightly. Plus, I realized that I can't carry my twenty pound backpack with causing more damage to my ribs.

I sat back down on the toilet as I clutch onto my chest still trying to manage my pain. This is bad. Very bad.

I'm stuck in a tiny stall with my injured ribs. I can't pick up my backpack. I'm basically trapped here. I really have dug myself a hole big time.


Astrid's POV.

Damn there's something in my eye. I try to rub it out, but it's not working and my eye is really drying out. I need to get to a bathroom.

I go into the nearest one and half-blindedly get a paper towel to wet it for my eye.

I rub at it gently with the towel and sigh in relief when I finally got the thing out of my eye. It was one of my lash hairs that must have some off. I hate that when it happens, but at least it's not there anymore to annoy my eye.

I throw away the towel and was about to leave for my next class when I heard someone from one of the stays groaning. It was more like a pained groan instead of the other groan that you would typically get from a bathroom stay. The person is breathing fast and shallow from behind the stall door. Something's wrong.

But I recognize the voice. It's Hiccup's.

I go over and knock on the stall door.

" Hiccup. Is that you?" I asked.

" Yeah." She responded. She really sounds like she's in pain.

" Are you ok?" I asked. What am I talking about? Of course she's not ok.

It took her a bit but she moans, " No. My ribs hurt."

Ribs? Hurt? This is not good.

" Open the door." I demanded.

I then hear the clicking of the bathroom door for her to let me in.


I decided to have the main character injury his ribs because that is actually an injury that some ftm transgender can have if they are not careful.

I actually was going to do a Big Hero story about this but I change it to How To Train Your Dragon since I already did a female Hiro and there was already existing fanfics about a Hiro ftm, but nothing on Hiccup.

I'm glad that people are really interested in this story. I thought that this a big risk since it is a touchy topic to bring up. I'm glad that this is paying off.

Please Review and See you later.