All of my 5sos work

Both Different

Since I was growing up I always knew something about me was different, some aspect about me didn't quite fit in with other people. I liked to be rather bold yet at the same time reserved. My choice in clothing could be considered bold as it isn't stereotypical for a teenager, whereas my attitude remained underdeveloped, leaving me shy from those besides close friends and family. 

At school things wouldn't as easy as they could be at home, everyone goes through phases to find out who they are and who they want to be. This tends to happen to people in their early teens, when they experiment with clothes and... Blue eyeshadow, the horror. Whereas I, now a late teenager in my final year at high school am still being judged on my change and discovery to who I partially am.

My choice was to dye my hair. Now I'm aware you may be thinking along the lines of getting highlights or going bleach blonde or darker to seem emo or something but no. I didn't want to be another sheep in the flock, instead I chose after much deliberation to my parents about it to have an unnatural hair colour. The end result being purple, and not just any sort of cute tumblr pastel purple, oh no. My hair was a vivid purple with undertones of blue, and I bloody loved it. I just wish everyone else would see it the same.

To say people at school like it would be a joke, whenever I come out of class I hear whispers or muttered comments about my hair. How I don't belong and never have done, that even now after having my hair like this for three months people still feel the need to shun me and others at any chance they get.

"It's just a phase."

"Like she'll keep it, give it a few more weeks."

"Her hair must be so dead, even from afar you can just tell it's damaged, just like she is."

It's difficult to pick out the complimentary comments amongst the overpowering negativity. It's as if you try to pick out a needle from a haystack, it remains hidden within the depths of hatred. My friends were usually the ones to cheer me up, saying how cool it is and the different styles I could try out and joke about how they won't lose me anywhere I go. I tried to laugh along and feel good about myself, knowing this is who I want to be and I'll only have to put up with this for another few months within such an enclosed environment. It makes me feel like the fascinating new arrival at the zoo, everyone wanting to input on it.

"Please, you haven't seen Mikeys hair. I mean wow." Y/f/n laughed and she caught my attention. This Mikey she keeps mentioning now and then, supposedly another person in this school who enjoys being different and has been known to frequently experiment with his hair colour. Yet, I've never seen such a person which disheartens me. "Y/n? You in there?" She waved her hand over my face and I snapped out of my deep thought, she tutted as I brushed my hair out of my face and tried to engage back into the conversation. "You daydreamer." She would always joke, how easily I could focus on something irrelevant, like all those comments I get.

I tried to encourage the topic of Mikey to return to the conversation but I failed to do so, and with that we continued our day at hell.

Days had passed and I still knew no more of Mikey, and his technicoloured hair. I always found myself catching his name at the end of a conversation, missing out details about what his hair was like now, this always frustrated me intensely. "You up for the cult movie event tonight?" I glanced up to see my friends making agreed comments and I nodded, wanting to distract myself away from school for a while.

As we arrived at the large field we walked down to see an area filled with blankets, fairy lights, cushions and a large screen positioned in front of it all. We excitedly walked on down and found a good position, not too far forward and not at the very back. As I lay on my stomach I felt someone tap my shoulder.