Different

Being in middle school is bad. Being a minotaur in a mostly human middle school is worse. Being a new transfer student, and a minotaur, and transferring to a mostly human middle school is hell on Earth. 

It had already been a month since I transferred from the mid-Earth realm to Ohio, and I still hated it. Today was no exception as I felt the sharp sting of an apple hitting the back of my skull.

“Hey, Bully! Eat up!” Some boy shouted at me.

“My name is Billy,” I muttered weakly.

“Whatever you say, Bully!” 

The group of boys walked away, laughing. I just sighed. I had all but given up trying to defend myself anymore. In the beginning, I tried, but all it did was lead to a bunch of jokes about “charging bulls” and getting mauled by me. Kids never wore red to school now. If they did the others would force them to be around me all day, waiting for me to “see red” and go nuts. Heads up, I didn’t. That was just some stupid stereotype.

I sat under a tree on the playground and ate the apple. They were going to think what they wanted about me anyway, why waste? I sat by myself. Again. Even the other mixed kids at the school wouldn’t talk to me. I wasn’t a satyr, but they were sure using me as the “scapegoat” now. Some of the mixed kids who had been here a while weren’t bullied too much, and the others stopped getting picked on when I arrived, so neither of them would help me. It just made them a target again. I understood. If I was in their position, I’d ignore me too. 

I chucked the apple core over the chainlink fence and into the nearby forest. The bell rang for recess to finish. I sighed again and stood before heading back to the building. The teachers smiled as I headed back in, but their smiles were forced. I could tell. They didn’t want me here either, at least, some of them didn’t. 

I’d overheard them when I went to the bathroom one day. It was the math teacher, Mr. Johnson, and the P.E. teacher, Mr. Phillips. I passed by them in the hall, and they nodded politely. I stopped to get a drink at the water fountain before going to the bathroom. I guess they didn’t realize I was still right around the corner when they started talking.

“Figures, one of those ones is skipping class,” Mr. Johnson muttered.

“Think he’s just heading to the bathroom,” Mr. Phillips commented.

“Sure they say that but it’s just an excuse to get out of class,” Mr. Johnson said, disgusted. “I have more of those half-breeds walk out of my class than any other kid.”

“Christ, Mark, keep your voice down!” Mr. Phillips whisper-shouted. “Do you know the kind of trouble you could get in if someone heard you say that?”

“What, you like having them here?” He asked.

“Well, they do pretty well in sports,” Mr. Phillips mumbled.

“Of course they do, they’re animals. Aggression comes naturally to them,” Mr. Johnson stated. “I’m waiting for bull-boy there to crack any day now and gore one of these poor kids, and whose fault is it when that happens? The school board and their whole ‘equal opportunities’ crap. Those things don’t belong with our kids. It’s not safe.”

He made it sound like I was some kind of raging beast. I guess that's all I would be to him. My human half didn’t matter. I was an animal, and I’d never be anything more.

Today was actually an okay day, aside for some kids snorting at me and pretending like they were going to charge, nothing much happened. I guess they were getting bored with me finally. I took my time getting my things from my locker at the end of school. I dreaded heading home as much as I dreaded school. At least at school I didn’t have to lie.

My mom almost burst into tears the first time I told her I was getting bullied. I didn’t tell her anymore. It was easier to pretend everything was okay. There was no reason two of us needed to be hurting.

She smiled at me warmly as I walked into the kitchen. Pale skin, green eyes, no hair but the one on her head. Why couldn’t I look more like her? She came over and carefully avoided my horns as she kissed my forehead.

“How was school today, Sweetheart?” She asked.

She asked every day since she found out I was bullied. In the beginning, she put on a brave face and told me not to worry, things would get better. So I pretended like they were.

“Fine, I guess. I had classes, played with some boys at recess, more classes. The usual,” I said shrugging. “Where’s Dad?”

“Napping in the barn,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I swear, that old bull would sleep the day away if I let him.”

I nodded. “Well, I got homework, so I’m going to go to my room.”

“Okay, Billy. Do you want a snack?” She asked.

“No thanks, “ I said, heading upstairs.

I threw myself onto the bed when I got into the room. The truth was, I barely had any homework. I was able to finish most of it at school. I just didn’t want her coming in to bother me. I didn’t want to have to explain anymore.

She didn’t understand. Dad didn’t either honestly. Mom was a human, she knew what being human was like. Dad was a bull, he knew what being a bull was like. Neither of them knew what it was like to be a minotaur. They never would. I was completely alone. 

I knew that eventually, I’d either gain some kind of seniority or a new mixed kid would transfer in and the heat would be off me. Neither were great solutions, but they were the most realistic. A lot more than everyone suddenly changing their ways and realizing we were people just like everyone else anyway. This wasn’t some stupid fairytale where things magically worked out in the end somehow. This was life.

I was different. A human, a bull, a half-breed. I had two choices: play along with the stereotypes to satisfy them, or go against them and prove them all wrong. The first seemed easier. I could be the “Bully” they wanted me to be. I could start fights, trample kids, get kicked out of school. Maybe then I could just stay on the farm with Dad. Being a bull was easier than being a human anyway. If you’re part bull, then you’re a bull. They accepted you. Well, most of them did anyway. It was easy.

The second choice was difficult. It meant working harder than any of the humans, making myself go above and beyond to stand out in everything I did. Because if I failed, even once, they’d all use it to confirm what they already thought about me. If I wasn’t exceptional, then I was nothing. 

I couldn’t tell what was worse, being a half-breed thug, or being nothing. I just wanted what everyone else wanted. I wanted to get a good job someday, to meet a nice girl and have a family. I wanted to have our kids come home and hear her complain about how I slept in the barn all day. I wanted a place where I would be accepted as I was. I didn’t want to be a human. I didn’t want to be a bull. I didn’t even want to be a minotaur. I just wanted to be Billy.