His Bag of Trichs

Prologue

In our daily lives, we meet new people everyday. At the local shop, in school, even on the street. Most just pass us by without a second thought, but sometimes someone comes along that makes such an impact, you cannot help but think of them all the time.

My name is Liam and I probably seem like the average teenage boy to most. And don't get me worng, I am. But, I've always had a secret that that I carry around that makes me diferent from others. And if you look at me you would probably notice it right away, but never have the nerve to bring it up. It's not something I like to talk about; even though it effects me every day. I'm ashamed, but it is a "habit" that is almost impossible to control. See, most people view self harm as a girl who has cuts her wrists or starves herself. And most view OCD as someone who washes their hands seven times or is always organizing their pencils. But, most would not consider the boy who pulls out his own eyebrows. Trichotillomania. That's me. The big, fancy word for someone who pulls out their own hair. It seems weird, and it probably is to many people. But not to me. Those people have never lived in my shoes; never known what it is like to be ashamed of their appearance when they look in the mirror. Never knowing the guilt after doing something they can barely remeber even starting. It's not a concious action; believe me, I wouldn't do it if I had to think about it. I do not know why I even do it sometimes.

All I know is that the day Louis walked into my life, I had found my purpose for trying to stop.