being fast and careless. As I pulled my shirt over my head the sequined fabric in the back caught in the pins in my wig. “Ow!”
I tugged a bit and it felt like I was going to rip my real hair out. I tried to get to the offending pins but the shirt was twisted around two of them. I pulled hard and steady so I didn't tear my hair out but it hurt too much. “Dammit!” I looked in the mirror and the splotchy bleached stripe on my side and arm were painfully evident. What the hell could I do now? Nobody could see me like this. I tried pulling the shirt back down but that made me look even worse.
Maybe I could get Kimi or Skylar in here, they wouldn't judge me. I wouldn't trust anyone else to see the real me... except...
I walked to the door and called out. “Taylor?”
She answered quickly. “Yes Miss LaLanie?”
I paused a second. “I'm in a bit of a mess here. Could you please send Kylee in here to help? NOBODY else.”
She responded, “Just a moment Miss LaLanie.”
A few seconds later there was a light knocking at the door. I turned my discolored skin away from the door, like it would hide it. “Kylee?”
She replied, “Yes Amber. Is everything OK in there?”
I sighed, trying to gather the courage to show someone, besides the Roths, my vitiligo for the first time since high school. “No. It isn't. I seem to have got myself in an embarrassing mess and need your help. Please come in.” My voice cracked and my eyes were tearing up.
A concerned looking Kylee popped in and shut the door quickly behind her and she looked at me. She tilted her head as I tugged on my shirt. “It got all tangled up in the pins fastening the wig. Please don't tell anyone about what you see here.”
She was shaking her head. I know she already saw my skin discolorations but she didn't say a single word. She went to work trying to twist the shirt for better access to the pins. “Wow. You really did a number up here. I don't know if I can get to them without cutting your...”
I cut her off. “No! No cutting.” I took a deep breath and calmed down. “I'm sorry Ky.”
She shrugged and put a warm hand on my shoulder with a smile. “No problem. The wig is just in the way.”
I took two shuddering breaths and sat in the chair in front of the mirror. Then whispered, “Then take it off.” A tear rolled down my cheek as I tried to be brave.
She went to work removing all the pins fastening the wig to my scalp. Then she pulled the wig back and was able to get to the two offending pins that were weighted down by the shirt. I felt the pressure on my scalp release as the wig came away and she untangled the shirt from it and my hair fell down around my shoulders.
She looked at me with a huge grin. “Taa daa! ...Jesus!” She gasped and her eyes went wide as I shrank back in embarrassment. She pushed my hair back, the contact of her fingers on my scalp felt heavenly. Her smile doubled as she looked at my shame. “You're fracking gorgeous Amber! Your hair is amazing!”
She wasn't looking at me in pity or disgust? She was just smiling, her hand moved haltingly toward my side, toward the blotches then it stopped. She locked eyes with me. Her smile got cute and lopsided. I quickly grabbed the shirt that Taylor had supplied and pulled it over my head.
I blurted, “I can do it from here.”
She got a sad look on her face. “OK. Why do you... can I ask... is it... why do you hide it? It is beautiful. It's a shame you keep yourself hidden away all the time.”
I closed my eyes and didn't say anything. I heard the door close behind her. What in the hell was she seeing that I wasn't? I looked in the mirror at my brown and blotchy white striped hair. I pulled the shirt up a bit and ran my fingers along my vitiligo, the source of so my ridicule in the locker rooms in school. The bane of my entire existence. I refused to be
I tugged a bit and it felt like I was going to rip my real hair out. I tried to get to the offending pins but the shirt was twisted around two of them. I pulled hard and steady so I didn't tear my hair out but it hurt too much. “Dammit!” I looked in the mirror and the splotchy bleached stripe on my side and arm were painfully evident. What the hell could I do now? Nobody could see me like this. I tried pulling the shirt back down but that made me look even worse.
Maybe I could get Kimi or Skylar in here, they wouldn't judge me. I wouldn't trust anyone else to see the real me... except...
I walked to the door and called out. “Taylor?”
She answered quickly. “Yes Miss LaLanie?”
I paused a second. “I'm in a bit of a mess here. Could you please send Kylee in here to help? NOBODY else.”
She responded, “Just a moment Miss LaLanie.”
A few seconds later there was a light knocking at the door. I turned my discolored skin away from the door, like it would hide it. “Kylee?”
She replied, “Yes Amber. Is everything OK in there?”
I sighed, trying to gather the courage to show someone, besides the Roths, my vitiligo for the first time since high school. “No. It isn't. I seem to have got myself in an embarrassing mess and need your help. Please come in.” My voice cracked and my eyes were tearing up.
A concerned looking Kylee popped in and shut the door quickly behind her and she looked at me. She tilted her head as I tugged on my shirt. “It got all tangled up in the pins fastening the wig. Please don't tell anyone about what you see here.”
She was shaking her head. I know she already saw my skin discolorations but she didn't say a single word. She went to work trying to twist the shirt for better access to the pins. “Wow. You really did a number up here. I don't know if I can get to them without cutting your...”
I cut her off. “No! No cutting.” I took a deep breath and calmed down. “I'm sorry Ky.”
She shrugged and put a warm hand on my shoulder with a smile. “No problem. The wig is just in the way.”
I took two shuddering breaths and sat in the chair in front of the mirror. Then whispered, “Then take it off.” A tear rolled down my cheek as I tried to be brave.
She went to work removing all the pins fastening the wig to my scalp. Then she pulled the wig back and was able to get to the two offending pins that were weighted down by the shirt. I felt the pressure on my scalp release as the wig came away and she untangled the shirt from it and my hair fell down around my shoulders.
She looked at me with a huge grin. “Taa daa! ...Jesus!” She gasped and her eyes went wide as I shrank back in embarrassment. She pushed my hair back, the contact of her fingers on my scalp felt heavenly. Her smile doubled as she looked at my shame. “You're fracking gorgeous Amber! Your hair is amazing!”
She wasn't looking at me in pity or disgust? She was just smiling, her hand moved haltingly toward my side, toward the blotches then it stopped. She locked eyes with me. Her smile got cute and lopsided. I quickly grabbed the shirt that Taylor had supplied and pulled it over my head.
I blurted, “I can do it from here.”
She got a sad look on her face. “OK. Why do you... can I ask... is it... why do you hide it? It is beautiful. It's a shame you keep yourself hidden away all the time.”
I closed my eyes and didn't say anything. I heard the door close behind her. What in the hell was she seeing that I wasn't? I looked in the mirror at my brown and blotchy white striped hair. I pulled the shirt up a bit and ran my fingers along my vitiligo, the source of so my ridicule in the locker rooms in school. The bane of my entire existence. I refused to be
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