I didn’t want to get up. The alarm was loudly buzzing next to me, but I did not want to get up. Because getting up would mean this was over. That I had to stop being Daisy for a couple of hours, and pretend to be David again, with a face to match. It being a school day meant that the moment I set foot outside my bed, I would have to undo the transformation, and the prospect of that hurt so much more than the fears of how I’d react to transforming had felt.
With my eyes wet from tears, I got up, and grabbed hold of the wand. Nothing else to do but rip the bandaid off swiftly. My voice was flat and dead as I spoke the words “Moon Wand Powers, Dim,” and when the light poofed away, it all hit me at once, with such an impact I hoped I’d be transported to another world. I just fell on my knees, the wand rolled out of my hand, and I held myself tight, downright howling. It didn’t matter I would only have to endure this for a couple hours, and then I’d get to be me again for the whole weekend. It didn’t matter that this form wasn’t permanent, that I had power to change it even without the wand. It didn’t matter that Mom was holding me close, without me even noticing her entering the room. The message I was being sent was clear: I couldn’t be me all the time, so I might as well not be me at all.
It was another ten minutes before I managed to squeak out something. “I h-hate th-this.” My voice was raw from crying.
“You can take a mental health break, Daisy, you obviously need it,” Mom offered, but I shook my head.
“N-no, that, that’s just putting a-away the, the problem for l-later. I, I have to face t-this. Head on. I-I could try coming, coming out, but…” I trailed off, looking down at the floor. Horton was already giving me shit without any reason. Me coming out would just make him go after me harder. I really didn’t want to deal with him. I wiped my tears away, and got off the floor, my legs still wobbly. “I-I’ll be, I’ll be fine, it’s just a, a few hours, of being d-deadnamed and and and called a b-boy. And t-then it’ll be the w-weekend.” I took a few unsteady steps to my closet, and rested my hand on its door, sighing.
The breakfast that followed was quiet and somber, as was the ride to school. Mom hadn’t even threatened Potato Bun once in that time, and in fact had given her a small bowl of fruit. I didn’t remember Mom ever looking this serious, this poker faced, but I could only imagine she had held this expression while leaving my father. The car stopped in front of the school, and Mom squeezed my shoulder in support. I held it for a moment and nodded, exiting the car without a word. Emily was waiting right by the school gate, and she gave me a sad smile of support right as she saw me. No words were exchanged, she just reached her hand out and I held it, awkwardly. This hand didn’t fit together with Emily’s. It was rough and clumsy and bulky and masculine and I wanted it off, I didn’t want that hand, I wanted my hand, I wanted to be holding Emily’s hand with mine, not with David’s hand. I figured any second now, someone would notice and call out, yell that somebody was impersonating David, that he had been replaced, that some alien creature was wearing his skin for some sick, perverted reason.
I was sure people could tell what I was hiding, and so I was just waiting for the guillotine to drop. But I also felt that had I gone as myself to school, people would still treat me like the awkward boy, they might as well treat me worse, treat me as a weird pervert. My thoughts were cyclical and it took until third period for me to start paying attention to the class, to realise that I was still just the anxious stuttery kid that one should avoid in my classmates’ eyes. That realisation sent me from a 50/10 to an 8/10 on the anxiety scale.
My baseline was 6/10. Emily and I were making our way to the next class when she had to excuse herself to go to the bathroom. The moment she let go of my hand to go, it was like someone had pressed pause on the controller for my life, and I just stood there, waiting, lifeless. I didn’t even react when I was dragged by the collar into the boy’s bathroom, where I was promptly slammed and held against the wall by Horton, who had a most sinister grin on his face. “Heh, I knew it, you are Emily’s little bitch toy. Not only a fag, but a tranny to boot.”
His choice of slurs knocked me out of my stupor. “W-what are you talking a-about?”
“See, I noticed your mom hanging around with this cringeworthy girl with pink hair down to her ass and with an odd resemblance to you after school on Wednesday--”
“W-why do you th-think it, it was my mom?” I interrupted him, hoping to poke holes in his theory, because if Horton knew, he’d tell everyone just so that I’d have a harder time. I would have to move to escape him and the school, I’d lose Emily, and I didn’t want that.
“Because my dad’s decided your mom would be our family doctor. Cloudton isn’t a common name, dipshit. Anyway, having seen that cringeworthy pink haired chick with your ugly mug, I figured I had to make sure. So I followed your dyke boyfriend when I saw her, and then noticed said pink chick and her smooching it up at your place.” Invasion of privacy, stalking; of course he’d stoop so low. This was Horton holding me against the bathroom wall tiles, the guy who broke a rival’s leg by ‘accident’ to be the star player on the football team, the guy with four exes that had all moved out of town. “So I put two and two together, and the only conclusion is that you’re a tranny bitch spending his free time getting pegged by Emily because neither of you can get real dick. So you’re going to do something for me, or the whole school will find out you like looking like one of my sister’s shitty pony toys.”
His demand was so ridiculous it actually made me stop catastrophizing for a hot second. “W-what proof do, do you even have?”
He smiled again, wider this time. “Proof? Oh I don’t need proof, I’m the star football player, the popular jock, you’re the weirdo with a stutter and the funny hands; you’re already offputting, I can claim whatever I want about you and people will believe it. I could show you right now, but I want to give you a chance to man up, to prove you still have balls. Then, maybe, I can beat a spine into you, as a favor.”
I looked down and sighed “What do y-you want me to, to do?” What could he even ask for? I knew whatever it was it wouldn’t be good.
“Take pics of your dyke boyfriend naked, so I can spread them around school, because nobody humiliates me.” I wasn’t sure how Emily could have humiliated him, besides just standing up to him and shooting down his weird aggressive advances on day one of class. “I’m gonna give you until lunch to decide whether you’re in or out. Choose wisely, Cloudton, I can make your life even worse than it already is.” Horton finally let go of me, and I slid down onto the floor, while he turned around and walked out, leaving me there to contemplate my options.
When I finally stood up and managed to make my way out, Emily was standing there, looking worried. She didn’t even get to say one word before I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned around to face Ellie. She began signing, “Whatever he told you to do, don’t. Aleah asked me to tell you.”
“H-how do you know he, he asked me something?” I asked her, fidgeting with my hands.
“I don’t. Aleah’s got a crystal ball. She has limited future vision. Usually for seeing misfortune. She saw you being asked to do something and told me to look out for you. I was too late to catch him dragging you in.” Ellie signed at me, while Emily observed, eyebrow raised.
“Are her and Aleah your…” Emily began asking, so I quickly nodded.
“C-club members,” I answered with the code term.
“Right. What DID Horton ask for? Why?” Emily asked her second question, and I gulped, taking a couple deep breaths. Saying it out loud might prove dangerous, so I instead opted to sign just like Ellie was.
“Nude photos of you, Emily. To spread. I have until lunch to tell him I am not doing it.” I clenched my fists before continuing, breathing in through my teeth. “And he asked because he saw me in girl mode, and figured out it was me by stalking you.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I looked down at the ground, and leaned against the wall for support. The rest of what I wanted to say, I could say out loud. “I’m n-not going to break your, your trust like that. I-I couldn’t. I won’t.” I stuttered out, to reassure both Emily and myself.
“That creep. The absolute bastard. Son of a fucking gun. Okay, you, tall, silent, mysterious and breathtaking,” Emily pointed at Ellie, “get your remaining club members together; we’re confronting my partner’s bully during lunch. I can’t believe I let this go on for this long. In the meantime, we’ve got class to get to.” Grabbing hold of my hand, Emily started pulling me away. I turned to see Ellie waving while she dug out her phone, and I gave her a quick wave back.
The idea that a single confrontation could stop a bully was nice, but I figured it wouldn’t do enough. Maybe with a group of six it would. I would see if it did.
Damn that start hit hard. Why'd I have to get addicted to trans fiction? Now I'm sitting and crying in front of my computer at 3 am
Oooh, can't wait for some bully comeuppance!
I feel so much with Daisy :(
Let the body hit the floor... now watch, bully is actually going to spawn a nightmare after being served justice because he fears being irrelevant or something. Or maybe the bully is trans too and the nightmare will be nothing but toxic man
Ugh, f*ck Horton