A/N Warning. Mildy offensive terms are used but I wanted to give awareness about some pressing issues that need to be talked about. Please don't get offended. I didn't mean to hurt anyone.

The new girl hesitated at the entrance of the classroom. All eyes turned to her. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Irene who had been sitting in the far corner with her legs up on the bench, hopped down just as she entered the room. The new girl nervously shuffled to a vacant seat while Irene and her gang of cool girls watched like a hawk.

"Oh my!" Olivia walked up to her and climbed on her desk, "Look who's here."

"I'm sorry, I don't..." the girl muttered timidly.

"Ah-ha fatso. You don't get to speak yet. We talk, you listen," Irene pushed her roughly, and made space for herself on her bench.

"Stop bullying her!" Maia suddenly spoke up from the other side of the room.

"Hey nigga. Are you jealous that you aren't a part of the elite? Or is your black support hashtags not working as expected?" Irene taunted. A few boys in the class clapped and winked at her as she flipped her hair.

"You shouldn't be rude you know," Natalie stood up from the bench opposite to them, adjusting her glasses.

"Shut up nerd bitch!" Olivia puckered her lips, applying some dark red lipstick.

A loud crashing sound alerted them to Shizuka who had, just like every day, tripped over her own feet. Her books and pens were scattered all around the room. "Oh I'm sorry," she mumbled, proceeding to retrieve them.

"Aargh!" Irene threw her hands up in the air and marched across the room. One pen crunched under her expensive sneakers. "Why can't you give us so peace, butterfingers?"

"Cause she's yellow," Olivia jeered. Sniffles and murmurs echoed around the room. The teacher came in just then as they settled themselves for class.

______________________________________

A severe pain in her abdomen jolted Irene from her sleep. The clock flashed at 6.30 am. She screamed at the top of her lungs, clutching her belly and rolling on her sheets.

"Aww baby, is it the period cramps again?" her mother's soothing voice rang in her ears. Her mother never stayed at home to wake her up. Surprised, she opened her eyes to find her mother peering down at her. But something wasn't right. Her mom looked a lot more plump and at least three shades darker.

"Did you get tanning injections or plastic surgery, Mom?" she winced through the pain.

"No?" her Mom's brows furrowed in concentration.

"Well, I don't know. You look different," she mumbled, dragging herself out of bed, moving to the mirror on the dresser. She stopped short, staring at her own reflection, aghast.

"Mom...H... Have I changed?" her voice shook as she took in her form. The face was unmistakably hers but she had flabby skin over her hips and a little round paunch. Stretch marks ran crisscross over her round, soft hands and on her fleshy thighs.

"Obviously not. You're still my teddy bear," her mother hugged her from behind, "What's wrong?"

"Mom, I look so fat," she cried out, tears jumping out of her eyes.

"Oh baby it runs in the family. You know that. Now get ready for school," her mom explained, getting busy with her sheets.

"My stomach hurts. I can't." she wailed.

"Well, we're trying the meds for your PCOD right? It'll get better. You can't skip school!" she asserted firmly.

Irene dejectedly moved to the shower. As she stripped down before the mirror, she felt the insecurity hit her hard. This was her now. The glossy, sexy Irene might well have been just a dream. But it had been a good dream nevertheless.

As the warm water hit her body, the rays of the sun filtered through the vents and fell directly on her burnished skin. The reflection in the mirror shone a rich, creamy chocolate as the sunlight and the water created a misty image. The water glistened like well-cut diamonds on her supple skin. She stared in awe at her own reflection. How could dark skin be so gorgeous? She had never realised that she'd love darker complexions this much.

As she dried herself and put on her clothes, she couldn't help notice how full and feminine she looked. The curves looked more alluring than her flat features and zero figure ever looked. She felt graceful and womanly as she brushed her glistening hair.

The news on the TV blared to life just then.
"Another Black man killed by the police in custody. He wasn't even given a chance to defend himself as they had barged into his home and dragged him out. According to reports..."

Her mother switched off the TV abruptly. Fear shone in her eyes but she quickly hid them.

"Why? Who do they do this?" Irene could feel her eyes watering up again. Even the men of colour were just humans. They had families, friends, dear ones. And the authorities kill them without consideration, just because they're born black?

"It was just a show if change. The movement against apartheid never really stopped. The discrimination against us lasted all through these years and will last more Irene," her mother kissed her on the cheek, "The real disease is in their minds. They have narrow, constricted and age-old primal instincts still. Hashtags and protests, fundraising, everything is okay. But what could really be done to change the views embedded deep in their white skin? Nothing."

Irene sighed, not knowing what else to say as she gulped down her breakfast, distastefully. The food felt like warm sand down her throat.

___________________________

"Are those boobs on hire, slut?" some random guy commented, as soon as she had gotten down from her mother's car. Her mother never had time for her but she was afraid to ask why for the fear of spoiling everything.

"Stop objectifying women, you jerk," she shouted at them.

"Oh really? I bet you'd love our d***s..." they sneered, clapping each other on the back. The insecurities and the fears she had pushed to the back of her mind resurfaced. Her legs felt like jelly. She could feel the heat rising up her cheeks in embarrassment. That's what all the new girl she had bullied in her dreams must have felt like. Shame raged through her, as she cursed her own behaviours.

"Get lost, monkeys," another voice sounded at her shoulder and she looked up to see the new girl looking kindly at her.

"You must be new here, honey. What's your name?" she asked kindly.

"Irene," Irene whispered in a small voice.

"I'm Mary. Don't let them offend you, beautiful. You're so pretty, look at you!" she beamed, giving her a warm hug.

"Thanks but my body feels so odd at times. Don't you ever wish you could be like the other girls?" Irene asked.

"They're perfect," Mary looked down at her feet and raised her eyes again, "but they're also mean. They'd never know what girls like us with PCOs go through. They'll never know the pain of the cramps or the side effects of the hormone pills. They can just sit and judge."

"True that. But I can't seem to love my body at all," Irene mumbled.

"Oh! You must be new to the polycystic ovary thing. It takes some getting used to. I even contemplated suicide once. I had felt unwanted and rejected. But I got used to it and began loving my body finally. We're actually in demand among men you know," she said with a wink.

Irene laughed after a long time. It was liberating. Olivia and the others were cool but not funny. All they did was talk about cigarettes, drugs and makeup. Irene was doubting her friends choices. But then it had all been a dream.

They together walked hand in hand and reached the classroom.

"Boohoo," a girl in glossy jeans and an expensive branded tee, blocked them on their way inside. "New girl!" she announced.

Irene realised that was Olivia from her dreams. All the eyes turned towards them, for an early morning round of drama.

"Did you mother dip you in oil and fry you in the sun? That'll explain why you look like the ground meat inside a burger."

Olivia's comment brought unwanted tears to her eyes again. It was so rude and degrading. How could she ridicule someone on their race and colour? But then Irene had been doing the same in her dreams.

"Oh just stop it," Maia got up from her seat, and walked right up to her, "You're jealous because your Daddy's expensive tanning creams aren't working on that vampire pale skin of yours." she pointed at Olivia's face. Her ears turned pink.

"Right back at you for being a meanie," Natalie looked at the duo from above her thick-rimmed glasses.

"That's Natalie. The class topper. She's a genius and the teacher's favourite," Mary whispered in her ear.

"Oops, I'm really sorry," someone bumped into Irene from behind and her things clattered to the ground.

"Here, lemme help," both Irene and Mary offered as they crouched down beside her, and started gathering things.

"Shizuka, are you having vision problems? I noticed you tripping the other day too," Mary asked her.

"Actually. I have some muscle weakness due to nerve disorders ever since I was a child, thanks for asking," she gave a grateful smile. Irene felt a strange sensation in her chest. Every person had their own issues to deal with and coping methods differ. The good ones cope well with challenges, The bullies are maybe just unloved and their insecurities channel into violence.

Irene had never known all these existed. She had been living in a bubble. Shielded from the harsh realities of the world. The day passes surrounded by friends, real people, full of life and energy. They talked and laughed, made witty jokes and Irene found herself enjoying school more than ever. Each girl had a turbulent past and her they were all here, suppressing their tears and standing strong with each other.

That night as Irene lay in bed, she looked back at the day's events. She liked the new person she had become. She hugged herself and felt so calm. Her mother closed the lights and slipped in with her. Sleep came faster that day for her with no pictures to fake or no random friends to entertain on a popular Instagram profile.

_________________________

The sunlight filtering through the tiny chink in the blinds woke her up to another day. Her mother wasn't there. The bed was cold and there was no trace of her ever sleeping with her mom. She felt sad as she rolled out of her duvet.

Her body felt light as she skipped to the mirror and picked up her hairbrush. She looked at the mirror and blanched again. She looked like the girl in her dream. Her think willowy frame felt foreign, as she carefully ran her hand down her non-existent curves. Her face was almost sickly pale and her hair was dyed and brittle at the ends. She stared in horror at her own form and burst into tears.

Yesterday felt like a dream to her again. What was happening to her? Why couldn't she be luxurious and exotic like her dream? She almost hated her look. White was so common and boring. The words of Mary however rushed back at her.

"Love your body, however it is," she seemed to say in her mind.

"Well, white isn't that bad either," she mumbled, reaching for her phone that was ringing loudly.

'OLIVIA' floated on her screen. She looked at it in shock. So she really was the bad girl, the bully.

"I am what I want to be," she cut the call and looked at her reflection, "It's time to change a few things in my life. I need to take control of who I am, before I let myself get lost in the glitz and glamour of the life that is so false."

She whistled merrily, exiting her room.

A/N 2000 words completed. Please don't judge people before you know them. They may be going through lots.