I'm sitting in class doodling in my notebook when my head jolts back from my hair. Gasping, I look up to see Travis James, my official bully holding me by the hair, a smirk on his face.

"Hey, sugar. Wanna speak today? Or are you still playing mute?" He asks, his tone mocking. His friend, Mark, snorts from his seat.

In all truth, I was deaf. But either Travis was too arrogant to know that or he just didn't care. Both are large possibilities.

Travis has been bullying me ever since I transferred here last year. I initially transferred from my old school to this private one because I was being bullied, but it seems this school — or should I say, just Travis and his friends and a couple others — is not much better.

Still, this school is better, and Travis has yet to humiliate me the way the kids at my other school did, so I keep my mouth, or rather, my hands closed at home.

That's not to say that Travis's pranks and bullying isn't harsh. It is. Gum on my seat, a surprise water bucket attack in the bathroom, school lunch smeared over my bag, the hair pulling, verbal abuse as well.. it's a lot.

I don't know why Travis hates me so much. Maybe it's because I don't give him the reaction he's looking for. Or maybe he wants me to open my mouth and speak. I would, if I knew how.

I'm not entirely deaf. Well, I technically am. But my parents recently gifted me with hearing aids that help me hear a little. Which is a blessing in itself.