It stings. Pain erupting through my skull. The bleach leaving my short brown hair stark white. I arrive at school with a smile as confident as my walk.

Stares and looks of surprise. A teacher, “whoa there, Q-tip.” Smile wavering only bit. I move on.

A friend laughing, “what the hell? Damn, you’re a bleachy! Smile small now, I continue.

Gym. “Pay attention, bleachy! You’re making us lose! Smile gone now, I hang my head low.

Friend: “Bleachy.”

Teacher: “Bleachy.”

I look in the mirror and say, “Bleachy.”

At the end of the day my head still stings.


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