Lorraine's point of view:
I had to be there for Nikki. In order to be who I wanted to be I had brushed everything under the carpet, shoved aside any other feelings I had. I was foremost a business woman; they knew so little about me. I struggle to let people in; I haven't even spoken to my sister. I feel like I can't trust anyone.
'You're not coming in?' A small voice asked, Nikki standing at the door still clutching my hand tightly in hers. The way I see it there were options and different avenues I could possibly take. I could go with her and do what I'd really love to do. I love Nikki, I truly believe this is love but I can't bring myself to let her see me all the way tonight, with the stress of the school and how it's all going recently my slight burning issue is pushing down a ton of weight and I'm struggling to get it off my chest. It presses against me constantly and I'm always battling and fighting back but nothing just the empty feeling and the guilt wash over me. Or I could go in and talk. Just talk. On the surface it sounds simple but I stick with three; the cowards way out. 'Erm I've got a ton of work to do and I should really have an early night.' I lie, there was nothing waiting for me at home except an empty glass and a filled wine glass chilling with my name engraved, a way to soothe the issues. I bit my tongue through gritted teeth; it was so obviously a lie. 'Oh…..ok. I could help and you could sleep here, I'll order in and we can have an early night?' she suggests sweetly and I don't blame her after today I'd want the secure feeling, to show that whatever happens I'm still loved by somebody. But I find myself letting go, twirling and turning the blonde locks around my finger as I drive.
The impulse was something I could resist sometimes during the day but without people around me, I fell into the trap. It was like bait and I fell for it every time. I moved my perfectly manicured hand to the back of my head and begun to pull. It was an impulse, something that released the stress of the business's I had to run. I was overworked and tired and even with all the money I had acquired , it couldn't have solved my problems as a child.
I had started pulling as a young girl, I had never told anyone or explained and I never let anyone see my natural hair as I felt so hideous and ugly. Like how Quasimodo must feel; alienated from the world so I cover it. I slap on makeup and wear extensions; I wear fancy clothes and do my nails all to draw attention of another kind or to make myself feel a little bit beautiful. If anyone saw me as me they'd run for the hills, I can't even look for my bald patches and scarred body, each patch coming with a unique memory. Something that felt good at the time but often left me writhing in pain. For someone who seemed so sure of themselves, I used my mansion to hide away from the world. Like the girl locked in the tower waiting for a true love. Nikki my love, I'm sure she'd understand but I feel so ashamed and embarrassed at the idea of her seeing me without my cover. I'd be vulnerable and it makes me sick. I can wake up with chills and cold sweats thinking about it, it's awful and something I'd never wish upon everyone.
Something I love about Nikki is that she's not obsessed with her hair or facial features and yet she's still stunning. Something about the way it frames her face and her gorgeous opposing coloured eyes give me tingles. I pull out a clump right at the back and when I catch the patch now shorter than ever on the back of my head…I break down in tears and cry. For this problem my TTM is hidden away like being gay in the back of the closet, I resent it, yet there is nothing I can do to stop it so I carry on.