The violence begins, how will our heroine cope? Read on and see if she does or not...Oh dear!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part LI

The ride did me the world of good, as it always did, helping me to put things into perspective. I resolved that I would meet up with my father, despite his bullying I still had some affection for him and I would give him an opportunity to change. Obviously this would begin with him accepting me as his daughter. Beyond that I hadn't really thought too much, and as far as the sexual abuse was concerned, maybe it was just a dream, symbolism for something else. I didn't know and would have to think about it.

I mean, how do you ask someone if they sexually abused you? How are you Dad, oh by the way, did you..? Yeah sure, no, if I was to enquire it would take some sublety and at the moment that felt beyond me. It would wait.

I turned back into my road and emerging from the communal front door were my graffiti friends, 'Big Mac and Fries'. "Look out, iceberg warning," called Big Mac as I dismounted.

"I hope you're going to clean your handiwork off my door?" I said as I removed my helmet.

"What handiwork is that then?" said Mac, as if, 'and what are you gonna do about it?' was implied by his body language.

"I've already done it Mac," I bluffed, "the person at the housing trust said that vandalism of any sort wasn't to be tolerated, and they were more than happy to accept the CCTV I have of you two doing it."

It was a total lie but they didn't know that. I hated myself for it, because I was getting so good at it, it was almost becoming an art form.

"What CCTV is that then?" asked 'Fries'.

"Oh, didn't you know, Charlie installed it a few months ago in the hallway because he used to get hassled by people banging on his door, he had a few DVDs of the perpetrators. Apparently it was usually the same ones, you know playing football in the hall and using his door as the goal. That sort of thing. I handed them all over."

Suddenly their body language changed to that of uncertainty and apprehension, gone was the cockiness and the arrogance which I despised.

"I don't believe you." Big Mac stood towering over me.

"Don't take my word for it, wait for the trust to write to you. Anyway, I have things to do." I said trying to walk with the bike around him. He moved to block me.

"People who mess with me usually regret it." He stood up to his full height.

"Bullies are invariably cowards," I spat, and then as he moved to block me again, I stepped hard on the pedal my side of the bike and the opposite one hit him quite hard on the leg.

Surprised he stepped back rubbing his shin, "Bitch! You'll live to regret that."

"Don't forget to smile for the camera," I said with a sweetness that verged on saccharin.

"If I was you, I'd be very afraid," he called after me.

"You going to add threatening behaviour to your other sins. I deal with rats for a living, most of them end up dead, good day gentlemen." I wheeled the bike at him and he got out of the way. "Charlie was afraid of you, I'm not."

I carried the bike up to my room and shut the door, putting up my safety bar very quickly. My heart was hammering and I was close to shitting myself with fright. What had I just done? Did I have some sort of death wish? I began to wonder, firstly thinking of meeting my father and then the two monkeys from my floor. What was I thinking of? Very little by the look of it.

I made a cup of tea and drank it with shaking hands, this was becoming a habit. I decided that any more aggro and I would speak with the professor and see if he could help me find some other accommodation. I would have to be careful going out at night, but then that would only be with Simon, and probably on a one off for his barn dance, so I'd just keep out of their way.

Why was life so unneccessarily complicated? I mean I didn't want to cause anyone any harm or hindrance, but it seemed to seek me out. As a boy I ran away, as a girl I seemed more prepared to fight back. I pondered on that for a few minutes, did I have it the wrong way round? Shouldn't I be more confident and courageous as a boy? Maybe I should, but I wasn't but being a girl didn't mean I needed to accept being pushed around either, especially by a couple of brainless dickheads! I was getting angry and ready for a fight, dammit, if they wanted one, they could have one.

I showered and changed into jeans and a tee shirt, put on some mascara and lipstick, and taking the MTB went to see student health. The ride was uneventful, the session with the health nurse was a bit more worrying although she accepted what I said, she clearly didn't believe me.

"So let me get this straight, you've had gender reassignment surgery?"

"No, I'm on the waiting list for it."

"Oh!" she said, "Are you sure, I mean you look female."

"I think I would have noticed in the shower," I said trying to keep my patience.

"I suppose you would," she muttered shaking her head.

"I do know the difference between male and female, I sex dormice for a living." I beamed a smile at her, although my statement went over her head. In fact she gave me a very strange look. "I'm a biologist," I offered smiling again.

"Oh," was all she said. "I've altered your health records to female, because that is what we usually do and I've put a block on anyone accessing them without your permission. We do the same with those who have embarrassing infections, like Hepatitis or HIV."

"Embarrasing?" I queried, "Surely tragic would be a better description?"

"Sometimes," she said blushing a little. Then she said, "Thank you for notifying us Miss Watts." The interview was ended.

While I was at it I made an appointment to see my doctor, my GP not psychiatrist, thought I'd get it over in one hit. It was going to be one of those days.

"Can I make an appointment to see Dr Smith?"

"Is it urgent?"

"Not especially."

"He's actually got a cancellation in ten minutes."

"Yeah, I'll take it, thank you."

"What name?"

"Cathy, erm, Charlie Watts."

"Which is it Miss?" She typed away on the computer, "Oh, we don't have a Cathy Watts."

"You will when I come out. Stick in Charles and see what happens."

She did and oohed quite loudly, "I'll sort it out, so he doesn't call the wrong name."

"You're very kind," I said smiling.

I sat and tried to ignore the obvious attention I was attracting from the other reception staff, burying my head in 'Country Life' magazine, and one that was only six years old. I heard the odd gasp from a female in reception and a stifled titter, then someone said, "You're joking, that's never a bloke." Nothing changes!

"Cathy Watts?" called Dr Smith and I went into his surgery with him. He'd been prescribing the hormones through Dr Thomas' instructions for several months, so he was completely unfazed by my change in appearance. "Wow, you look really good," he gushed, "changing names and things, no problem. So how's it going?"

I told him what had happened in the last week including my loss. He simply nodded and made encouraging noises. I declined to talk about meeting my father or the problem with my neighbours.

"I think you've made the right decision," he said offering his hand, "I can't get over how good you look. Just keep taking the tablets," he smiled and gave me another prescription for the magic pills.

I rode home and couldn't believe it, Dick Dastardly and Muttley were outside again. I stopped some yards from them. "Right you bitch, you're gonna get what's due to you," spat the larger of the low lifes. He stepped towards me.

I pedalled away from him, "Come back you bitch and face the music," he shouted after me.

So I did. I rode straight back at him and bunny hopped hitting him in the chest with the front wheel, twice, the second time as he hit the ground I landed on top of him, riding off over his face. I heard his nose go and I suspect a few ribs. Somehow I managed to stay on the bike and circled around as his dumbstruck friend was bending over trying to help his beleaguered mate, I attempted to park the front wheel between his bum cheeks. He went flying landing on top of his injured pal. I then retired to my room and blocked up the door.

I awaited a visit from the local constabulary for assault and spent a worried night, expecting a bang on the door. However, nothing happened. The next day, I went to see Dr Thomas and wheeling my bike out of my room, Mac poked his head out of the door and dipped back in very quickly. I smiled although I suspected the war wasn't over, just the first battle. I don't support violence, but occasionally it seems to be the only language some people understand.