Caine

Chapter One

"Hey Oink!" Someone yelled.

Sarah moved slowly down the aisle of the bus, searching for a seat. As usual, most of them were already taken, bags put down on seats where students didn't want to share with her. Did they always have to make it so obvious?

"Piss off Twitchy, you're not sitting here."

"Twitchy? Nah she's called Oink now. Get with the times, bro!" someone else yelled.

"Oink? Why Oink?"

"Cos she snorts like a pig. Haven't ya heard her? Gizz a snort, Oink!" They cracked up laughing, and Sarah fought back tears. Whoever coined that stupid sticks and stones phrase obviously wasn't a loser at school.

"I haven't heard her snort. But I have seen her twitch. Do ya still twitch, Twitchy?" Do you think I do this for fun? The voice inside Sarah's head shouted at them. She put her bag down on the floor at the back of the bus and sighed in resignation. I'm actually not contagious, she wanted to say. I just had the bad luck to be born like this.

"Don't stand there Oink. I don't wanna listen to your snorts the whole way home!" a girl shrieked at her, horrified.

Well I want you to leave me alone, but that isn't going to be happening any time soon, is it? Sarah shouted at her in her head – the only place she had the courage to do it. If only she were braver – but years of being insulted didn't exactly fill a girl with confidence. She moved though – just a few steps forward – but it shut the shrieker up. Wimp, she chided herself. What have I got to lose, really, by standing up for myself? That's right, nothing.

It didn't matter that she was a senior student, one of the oldest girls in the school. The insults still stung. Why do I even keep going? She asked herself again for what must be the hundredth time. I know Dad wants me to get an education, but this is ridiculous! Sarah knew they teased her more out of habit than any genuine malice, but it was still hurtful. And even the years of practice hadn't enabled her to just ignore them, as her father constantly told her to do.

Sarah held onto the back of the seat on each side of the aisle, doing her best to tune out the insults, the torments. But it wasn't until the bus reached the first point on the road where both sides of the peninsula could be seen at the same time – the wild Tasman Sea to the left, and the Manukau Harbour to the right – that she started to relax. I'm nearly home. Just down the hill and round a couple of corners, and there's my farm. Home.

"Bye Twitchy!" one of her tormentors yelled out.

"Bye Oink!"

"Yeah see ya later Oink!"

Her head throbbed from the pressure of trying to suppress her tics the entire ride home. Not that it did any good – she got teased anyway. She should have just ticked and been done with it, then she wouldn't have a horrendous headache. As soon as the bus rounded the corner she let rip. The tics came in a rush, several at once, and she just relaxed and went with it. She hunched up her shoulders, rolled her eyes violently several times, wiggled her eyebrows in a jerky fashion, and cracked her neck and jaw in one swift movement. Then she snorted. Loudly. Not very lady-like. Not exactly normal. Yes, she understood why she was the laughing-stock of the school. She would be laughing too, if it was someone else suffering from Tourette's.

The intensity of the tics surprised her – they weren't normally that bad. It must be the stress, she realised. If only Dad would let me leave! She ticked again. What would they think of that? she wondered. That would earn me a pretty interesting nickname! The thought almost made her smile, despite her emotions.