Autumn's P.O.V The hallway at school is always the loudest right before first period, but I try to tune it out. I walk with my head down, adjusting the straps of my backpack. My name is Autumn, I’m 12 years old, and to everyone else here, I’m just an easy target. They don't understand what it means to be a therian. They think it’s a joke, or a weird phase, or that I literally think I am physically an animal. I don't. I know I have a human body, human hands, and that I have to sit at a human desk all day. But inside, my soul is different. My spirit connects to the wild, to the quiet strength of a wolf, and that's something they can't see or comprehend. "Hey, look, the dog is walking down the hall!" The voice belongs to Marcus. He and his friends are standing by the lockers, laughing. Someone makes a loud barking sound, and a few other people turn around to stare and giggle. I don't look up, and I don't speed up my pace. A lot of people think being bullied makes you scared, but it doesn't make me anxious or frightened. That kind of shaking fear is just anxiety, and that's not what this is. Instead, I just feel a deep, heavy weariness. It's an exhausting weight, carrying a truth around that makes people want to pick you apart. At least... that is what I try to tell myself. I always try to act brave. Inside... I'm just a girl who wants everything to shut up and to sink into some non-existent world where there aren't bullies constantly jeering at me. At lunch, it happens again. I sit at the end of an empty table, just wanting to eat my sandwich in peace. A group of girls walks by, whispering loudly enough for me to hear. "Is she going to eat that off the floor?" one of them sneers. "Be careful, she might bite you," another chuckles. I keep my eyes on my lunch. I feel the phantom weight of a tail that isn't physically there, a protective instinct stirring deep within my chest. I don't fight back, and I don't cry. My soul has a wild, ancient resilience. Wolves endure the harsh winters and the long treks; I can endure a middle school cafeteria. But the constant, daily isolation—the endless cycle of pointing, mocking, and whispering—reminds me every single day of how disconnected I am from the people around me. They live entirely in this modern, concrete world, while part of me is always somewhere else. If only all of me also was... When the final bell rings, I walk out of the school gates and head toward the woods near my house. The moment my sneakers hit the dirt path and the trees close in around me, the echoing laughs of the hallways finally fade away. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of pine and damp earth. Out here, the mockery doesn't matter. The names they call me don't stick. The kids at school think they are breaking a single, lonely 12-year-old girl, but they don't know the depth of what lives inside me. You can't /choose/ to be a therian. You just realise you are. It doesn't make us delusional. It doesn't make us weird. It just makes us /us/. They will never understand. This is not just one life. This is many. Many people are bullied because of who they are. And I'm not JUST talking about therians. Also furries, there's racists, sexists, there's homophobes, people who hate on neurodivergent people. Please help to stop the hate. I have made a few projects so please remix. Just not this one plz, this one is unique.
Plz like and fav
