Trans-Jenna
an excerpt

Chapter One

The buses pulled up slowly outside the school gates, looking out the dust ridden bus window I could see many of the year nine parents anxiously waiting for their precious teenagers to return. Finally home from, in my opinion, four days of Camp Hell. It was the worst time I have had in my life.

Some students sat back in their sticky seat, sighing in relief at the thought of going home to a warm bed and a nice warm shower, as the thought of home was pure heaven, while other students sighed at the thought of their high reputations falling to pieces as a result of their so-called uncool parents coming to pick them up, bringing their precious babies home.

I sat up the back of the bus, away from the crowd of over-excited teenagers. I sat alone, just like always, just like I had on the way to the camp. Always up the back, my own allocated space. That's how I spent most of my life anyway, all by myself, though it wasn't bad or anything, it was actually quite peaceful. I looked away from the window, clutching my backpack close to my body, juggling it on my lap.

I suddenly felt something cold and wet, and I lifted my bag up to reveal water sinking through my bag, soaking my pants. I looked down to see a large wet patch. I held my bag closer to me, I knew that the bottle had started to leak, but I hadn't expected it to leak onto me, and I suspected, my belongings in my bag. Great Mum, I thought to myself. I had told her my bottle leaked, but no she wouldn't listen, I had to have that one, Great timing.

I didn't dare stand up, I knew for sure if I did, someone would see me, they would have a field day, yes I could see it right now, Sammy standing their, pointing at me, chanting along while others stared and laughed, "Oh poor Jacky can't wait, look everybody he pissed his pants". I shuddered at the thought, I hated the thought, just like I hated him and his taunts. That was the kind of attention, I neither wanted, nor needed.

I leaned back, further into my chair, as the doors of the bus opened wide and the chilly wind blew upwards in my direction. It was nice, but fresh, and I held my bag tighter, in an attempt to keep myself warm.

Everyone else grabbed there belongings, it was clear that were busting their guts to get of the hot, sweaty infested bus. I could see the kids from the other bus, screaming as the doors opened and they were let free, back into existence. They ran of the steps, holding onto their things, and began to run around like head-less chocks. I laughed at the sight of the giant blur of color, my eyes beginning to water.

I took of my glasses, rubbing my eyes. I was the only one in year nine that actually wears glasses, but for some reason I've never been called a nerd or four eyes by anyone, but Sammy. I breathed into my lenses, causing a cloud of haze, and rubbed them clean, repeating this routine until they practically sparkled in the sunlight, that streamed through the window. Just the way Mum liked it, absolutely smudge free and squeaky clean.

Ms Crow, my teacher, stood at the front of the bus, frazzled and frustrated, with her favorite yellow whistle in her mouth. Besides being my home group teacher, she was also my sports teacher and I sometimes wondered if she ever took that ugly whistle out of her big, fat mouth. I sometimes even wondered if she slept with it in her mouth, scaring her poor little puppy to death as she snored and blew her whistle. Or maybe it had been surgically attached when she qualified to be a sports teacher, or maybe she just wore it to feel in control, like Hitler only without the mustache.

As she stood with her hands on her hips, and her whistle in her mouth, I just knew she was about to blow it anytime now. The noise grew louder, and I could see some kids gripping there seats with anticipation. The movement of Ms Crows body, was still.

I placed my fingers softly into my ear and held them in tight. She closed her eyes, breathing in and blew the whistle, until she was all pink in the face and out of breath. Even with my ears blocked I could still hear it as clear as a bell. I suddenly felt sorry for the people who were sitting right in front of her, and the people who were stupid enough not to see it coming. It cut thought the noise, finally shutting everybody up. Which I guess was the main thing. Though it didn't seem to stop the anxious fidgeting of the teenagers on board, as they continued to grip onto their chairs, more tightly as each second passed.

Ms Crows fingers pointed to each row, doing a head count before walking up the isle, tapping row by row, letting everyone go, until I was the last person left on the bus, besides herself and the bus driver. For once in my life, I was glad to be the last one to get of.

I sat still, unnoticed by her, feeling happy that their was no way anyone could notice my wet patch, as everyone had already departed of the bus. Well of course except for Ms Crow and the bus driver, who I wasn't all that worried about. I waited until while she babbled on and on to the bus driver, thanking him for his courtesy, and watched as she shook his hand and departed for the bus herself. I peeled myself of the sweat infested seat and grabbed my belongings, thanking the bus driver myself as I walked down the cold steel steps onto the grass, infested footpath.

It felt good to be back. Everywhere around me groups of parents stood, embracing their children, with hugs of love and with ears open, ready to hear all their stories from there so called, fun filled camp from hell. My parents luckily enough, where the kind to not really be interested in my life, let alone a boring camp, that I was practically forced to go to. Trust me, as long as their money hasn't been flushed down the toilet or gone to waste, they were more than happy to send me of, but not happy enough to hear my stories. No they would just shove me in the car and we would be of home again, watching the news or some lame ass repeat of my Dad's favorite British cop shows.

I held my bag tight, covering up the patch, and made my way to a vacant spot, lightly pushing my way through the crowds, all the while keeping my eye out for my parents. I stood alone, waiting until the last of the kids had gone home. I laughed at the thought of my parents forgetting to pick me up. It be so like them to forget me. The thought of being the last one their, itself , seemed hilarious to me, but deep down inside it scared me to death.

I made my way to a more vacantly, clearer spot of grass, or rather dust, and sat down, lowering my bag, quickly near my crutch. I made myself comfortable and waited for my parents to come and pick me up, to take me home. I could see my warm bed now, so inviting, and a hot shower, oh how I craved a hot shower...

As time passed on it began to get dark, not yet pitch black, but the sun was slowly setting behind the clouds, and the street lights had finally been turned on. It was freezing cold and the cold breeze blew on my back, making my already freezing body much colder. Their was no sun to heat me up anymore, just my cold, wet jacket from inside my bag, that I had put on when everybody had left.

The gates still had not yet been closed, so I presumed that not everyone in the school had gone home. As for the teachers though, well they all left earlier on, none of them even bothered to make sure all the student had gotten home safely. and no one had even bothered to ask me if I was okay.

As I waited for the approaching darkness, minutes went by, hours to. I looked at my watch, as it just hit midnight and I began to feel overwhelmingly scared. Scared that they had really forgotten me, or that maybe they had, had an accident on the way, or maybe they had been attacked by a robber or worse still, maybe they had been killed.I tried not to worry so much as my gut started to grumble, but all these idea's popped into my head and as I huddled up with my bag, I began to cry, really cry.

I don't usually cry, only of course when I get really badly injured or break something. Which from experience is about once or twice. Mum said I never cried as a baby, not to be fed, or changed. I just smiled and made weird noises, noises that almost drove my Mum mad. She told me, she would have given anything to hear me cry like a normal baby. She said my constant happiness was depressing for her, that the other mothers where jealous of me, they had little terrors. My mum just smiled and agreed, but when she came home, she cried herself to sleep. She told me, sometimes she would wake me up or drop me, just to hear me cry, but I never did. It's just something Iv'e never understood about my mother. I guess even now I don't cry, I mean, why would I want to, I'd only get called a poof or a faggot anyway, and who wan't to be called that.

I covered my face with my hands, I could taste the saltness of my tears, as they seeped through the gasps between my fingers and onto my lips. I cried and cried, until it was pitchblack and the street lights went out. I cried until my head ached. Until I could cry no more tears and fell asleep, in the darkness, all alone

It was morning when I woke up, the sun had risen, beyond the fog of the day.

I had cried myself to sleep, alone on the dusty footpath, behind the now locked school gate. How could no one have noticed me. My parents hadn't come, or had they, I would never know, because I was stupid enough to fall asleep, instead of asking for help. Had they arrived late and not noticed me in the darkness, had they not seen me behind the wire cut fence, or had they just not even bothered to come, hoping that I would make my own damn way home. Whatever their stupid excuse as for not coming, I no longer cared. All I knew was that I had to get home, before anyone who lived around the school saw me, cause if they did, well I would never be able to live it down.

I rubbed my eyes and pushed my dirt, ridden hair back behind my grass filled ears. For a second I could see clearly, and then I went blind, it was all a blur of color. I put both hands on the ground and began to feel around for my glasses. "Ouch" I cried, feeling something sharp dig into the palm of my hand, I picked it up in my hand, feeling around it's curves. It felt like broken glass, sharp but smoove, I ran it across my hand, slowly, just to make sure it was glass. Suddenly I realized, not only was it broken glass, it was my broken glasses lens. "My lens", I whispered to myself. I must have rolled over and broken it , during the night, great Mum was gonna crucify me.

Those glasses cost that bitch a fortune in itself. Now a new lens, well that's my birthday and Christmas present gone for the year. How could I have been so careless, how could something so stupid happen to me. I couldn't help but fall asleep, I had been so tired and sore from the camp, and the trip back, and well who could blame me if I dozed of.

I put my hands back on the ground and tried to feel my way around for the rest of my glasses. I could feel the handle and picked it up, placing what was left of my glasses on my lap, while I reached to put the rest in my pocket. I felt around for a pocket, remembering wasn't wearing my hoodie. "Damn, could this day get any freaking worse", I cried, not caring who was around. "I'll put the glass into my bag", I said to myself, and stood up, putting my glasses on. Well at least I could still see from one eye, I thought to myself, at least I wasn't completely blind .

I shook the grass of my back and got on all fours, searching for my bag, but I just couldn't find it, how could this happen to me ?, I had it right their. Damn glasses, I told Mum I should have gotten contacts, at least they wouldn't have fell of my face while I was sleeping. I searched the whole pathway, on all fours, but still could not find my bag. "IDIOT", I screamed to know one in particular, but myself, and I couldn't give a hoot who heard me.

This is all their fault, those good for nothing, lazy ass parents. Dad was going to kill me, I had pretty much, begged him to let me take his new camping bag, it was his favorite style to, he told me it was one of a kind I'de lost it all, along with my favorite shirt and torch, not to mention, half my clothes and my first aid equipment kit. I'd better pray to go I don't get bitten by a venomous snake or anything, or then I will really be dead.

How could I have lost it all ?, how could I have been so careless?. Then reality hit me, I hadn't lost it, some stupid prick had probably stolen it. God now I would be in even more trouble, But why the hell would anyone want to steal a camping bag, a bloody camping bad, for Christs sake. They must have known that I was dead to the world, whoever it was.

I could suddenly start to feel my head spin , and began to panic, my heart heart racing. How could this be happening to me?. I had no bag, no drink, no food, half my glasses and I did'nt even know how to get home.Worse yet, I couldn't wait around for a teacher or parent to come, so I could hitch a ride home, because their was no school on Saturday. Just my luck, of all days, a weekend.

I had to breath, I had to stop and think, could I really wait for my parents to come, or could I find my own way home. I mean, I was positive I knew my way home, but then again, when I thought of it, I wasn't quiet so sure after all, or maybe I could go to someones house and ask them if I could use their phone. Their was still the factor of stranger danger though. Did I have a choice?, I did'nt exactly know anyone from around here, hell I did'nt even know anyone in this town, out of school. Well besides my Aunt and her boyfriend Jaye. I mean don't get me wrong , I have tried to get to know people, but they already seem to have their own little groups and they did'nt seem to take to kindly to new comers.

I considered my options,considering I had already been waiting for over twelve hours, and considering I didn't have a good idea of how to fine my way home, I had no choice but to go with option three, the stranger danger zone.