Later that day, I sat on the floor in my room and cranked up the music. All the sad songs I could find. My thoughts drifted. How I had arrived at school earlier today next to Mr Resident Evil. Nothing had happened. To me, anyway. Nobody had noticed me. Business as usual. I hadn't seen Henry again for the rest of the school day.

I had walked home with a girl called Patricia. She was always nice to me; the closest thing to a friend I had. I hadn't said anything about Henry. In fact, I hadn't said much of anything at all. I am also ashamed to say that I hadn't followed Patricia's happy chatter, either. Somehow, I had got lost in my own headspace, which was never really a good place for me to be in those days.

At home, I had gone straight to my room, ignoring my mother's well-intentioned questions about school. Here I was now, fantasising about how I could have handled the whole Henry situation a whole lot better. Here, in my sanctuary, I knew what to say and do all of a sudden, knew how I could have cheered him up, how I could have made a friend. 

I went through the entire episode again, like some divine film director rewriting history. I saw myself helping Henry get up off the floor, making a lot of eye contact, telling him how it didn't matter what colour skin he was or what the others thought about him, that he was a decent guy, intelligent to boot, that he should be proud of himself and, well, that he should fight back, defend himself. He looked capable enough. I pictured him smiling at me, grateful to have found a new friend, someone he was able to connect with on an intellectual level, but also with his soul. Someone he felt closer to than to his other little circle of friends that I occasionally saw him with.

I sighed. The reality was that Henry probably thought that I was a freak. Avoiding eye contact, stumbling over my words and, more importantly, feet, then running off as soon as we walked through the school gates without even so much as a "see you again". "I thought you were properly black." That brilliance still physically hurt.

I punched the wall, then turned the music off. Depressing shit anyway.

Sometimes solutions aren't so simple

Sometimes goodbye's the only way...

The lines ricocheted around my brain. I wiped away some stray tears that had leaked despite my best efforts not to cry anymore. Didn't change anything anyway. I took off my shoes and my trousers and fell onto my bed.

Why bother? Getting undressed. Brushing my teeth. Getting ready for tomorrow. When I wasn't sure I wanted a tomorrow.

It was a fitful night. That was also business as usual. As soon as the world went dark around me, my thoughts would also turn dark. Today they were even darker than usual. I dreamt I was walking into a room full of strangers. At first, no one noticed me. But, all of a sudden, all eyes turned towards me. I froze. This was really scary, but it was also elating. People finally saw me. Tentatively, I started to smile. Suddenly, everyone started laughing, pointing at me with their fingers. I looked down and realised that I was completely naked.

I woke up with a gasp. The naked dream. How creative of my mind, you will all agree. Pure genius. Still, when I got up a few hours later and left for school, I kept checking myself. But although I was wearing ample layers of clothing, I felt naked, exposed. I was a good girl normally who never skipped school. That would have disappointed my mother even more. And I really couldn't risk that. But today it was especially hard to force myself to go forward, when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and pull the blanket over my head.

First lesson Maths. I sat at my desk, staring at the wall. Second lesson English. More staring at the wall. Then the break. I stood off to the side, watching the world go by. I spotted Henry across the yard. He noticed me, too, and gave me a little smile.

The rest of the school day passed fairly uneventfully for me. The same applied to the rest of the next few weeks. My sister, who was nearly ten years older than I, came home for a visit. At first, I was looking forward to it. But when she was finally there, I had to realise that I didn't even know my own sister. Don't get me wrong. We got along just fine, but we didn't vibrate at the same frequency. There was no real connection. 

Of course, there was the age difference, but this wasn't really the issue. Emma was the exact opposite of me. Where I was dark and edgy, Emma was pure light and poise. Where I was closed off and living more in my own headspace, Emma was bubbly and had her feet firmly planted in reality. Everyone liked Emma – including me, and Emma liked everyone – including me. 

Looking back, I realise that she tried to be there for me, tried to make me feel better about myself. It fills me with shame when I think about the way I always tried to avoid her because I know that my behaviour had nothing to do with her. It was just that my mother always compared the two of us, and – well, let's just say that I never won first prize. That kind of hurt, but it should never have given me the right to treat Emma like an enemy best avoided, especially as I genuinely liked her as a person. I just hated her as a sister.

Anyway, while Emma was staying with us, my parents didn't pay me much attention. That was a welcome relief at any rate. No one burst through my door into my sanctuary, demanding to be more family-oriented, to spend quality time with the people who loved me and sacrificed so much for me. So, I basically spent two weeks alternating between school and my room. If you had asked me at the time, I would have told you that I was enjoying the peace and quiet. I didn't notice that I was slipping further and further towards a black hole. I hardly noticed when Emma left again.

* * * * *

Then, one day, my life changed. I was walking home from school, when I saw a gang of five boys, the leaders of our so-called 'in-crowd', kicking and punching the living daylights out of Henry. Henry was still upright, which was a miracle because he wasn't even trying to defend himself. He just stood there, taking what they were dishing out. For a short moment, I stared at the scene in front of me. In slow motion, I saw how a huge fist connected with Henry's nose, blood splattering everywhere. 

Something inside of me broke. All the hatred, the rage that I so carefully kept locked up deep within me bubbled over. I charged at the thugs, screaming, "Let go of him, you fucking cowards. I said let the fuck go of him!" 

The boys spun around, stunned for a second.

"What? You gonna hit a girl now as well, you dickheads? Come on, then! Show me what you got! Show me what you need to do to feel tall and manly, you freaks!"

One of the guys from my grade shook his head. "She for real?"

"Fuck is that?" another guy demanded eloquently.

I picked up a pretty large stone and threatened to throw it at one of the bullies.

"Jesus, girl, calm down! There's no need for that," a third guy, Peter I believed his name was, said. He turned to his friends. "Let's get out of here."

The others started to protest they weren't "going to run away from no girl", when Henry took my arm gently and pulled me away from the group of juvenile thugs who were so busy arguing about their manhood that they didn't even notice that their prey was leaving.

When we were safely out of sight and out of earshot, Henry sighed loudly and said, "What on earth were you thinking, Katherine? Those idiots could have killed you!"

"They were already doing a fine job on you!" My blood pressure was still somewhere in the 200s.

"Don't worry about me, for crying out loud! I can take care of myself."

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing, Henry!"

Henry's shoulders slumped.

"Look, Katherine, this is my problem. I really appreciate that you wanted to intervene on my behalf. Honestly, I do. But, please, believe me that it isn't necessary. I don't want to be responsible for you becoming a target, too."

"I won't, Henry. You heard them. They didn't even know who I was."

"Well, now they do. I hope there won't be any repercussions for you. I hope so with all my heart – for your sake, but also for mine."

"Why for yours?"

"Jesus, Katherine. I couldn't just stand by if you became a target. It would be my moral duty to step in."

"And you are too scared of them?" I enquired gently.

Henry laughed self-deprecatingly. "No, I am too scared of myself."

I paused, mulling over the words but coming up empty.

"I don't understand," I finally said.

Henry just shrugged.

I tried again. "Why didn't you even try to defend yourself?"

No answer.

"I know there were five of them and only one of you, but you just stood there. You didn't even try to run away or at least protect, well, your more vulnerable body parts."

"It is what it is. Just let it go." Suddenly, he brightened up a little bit and licked his split lip carefully. "We could go for an ice cream if you want. Would be good for my lip."

I froze. Was Henry asking me out on a date? I didn't feel entirely comfortable with that thought. But as if he was able to read my mind, Henry said, "Just an ice cream with a friend. I know a nice place that is out of the way. Very private. Don't worry, I'm not looking for a relationship. But I could do with a friend."

My heart had started to race and my hands felt clammy, but I nodded. After all, I could have also done with a friend or two. Desperately.

"Okay," I agreed, my heart doing somersaults and backflips at the same time.