Isis with the Alopecia, a short fiction.

My name is Isis. I am eighteen and I love to dance. Also, I've been diagnosed with a kind of alopecia, which is to say I'm bald.

It doesn't bother me anymore. It did at first, and I wore a wig all the time until the lights were off and I'd take it down in the dark, where no one can see. But to take the wig down for somebody you felt close enough to was a lot harder than to just take it down from the start for the world to gawk at. So one day I decided not to wear the wig, and everybody thought that I shaved my head-hair off or that I was a rebel or that I was taking drugs. But I felt great after all that.

(Although sometimes when I dance I wear the wig so that people won't be distracted trying to see if I'm embarrassed dancing bald, and will just see the girl who can dance. Then when I'm done dancing I take it down and shock their socks off to Neptune.)

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I drew Isis earlier in the year. It's medical again, but I think this is way cooler than Subtleties.