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Bill had never thought much about his hair, not since he was a child. His mother always made a big fuss about haircuts, but as he got older, Bill cared less and less about the style his hair was in. He hadn’t spared a single thought about the follicles on top of his head, until…
“Bill, are you… thinnin’?” Arthur asked one night at the campfire, much to the man’s surprise. Thinning what? Like losing weight? Bill gave Arthur a confused look, before the man elaborated, “Run your fingers through your hair.”
Bill did as Arthur asked, begrudgingly. The older man across from him began laughing, looking away for a second before looking back at Bill. He was getting more pissed off the longer Arthur’s laughter continued, and soon, more members were laughing along with him. Including Javier fucking Escuella, which just embarrassed him further. This was attracting more attention than Bill cared to have on him.
“The Hell are you gettin’ at, Morgan?!” Bill yelled out, his temper coming out as Arthur’s laughs finally got to him. What was so wrong with his hair?
“Your thinnin’ up top. Goin’ bald. Don’t mean to insult you, Williamson.” Arthur explained, waving his hand dismissively. But Bill couldn’t dismiss that. His hair was falling out? Goddammit, he was already ugly enough, he didn’t need a bald spot to go along with that… he huffed, standing up and pushing Arthur off of the log. Damn Morgan, always saying shit to make him feel even worse.
He stalked away, into the woods, Brown Jack’s reins in hand. Maybe it was stupid to get so worked up over a little hair, but the thought of being uglier than he already was starting to get to him. Thirty years old, and his hair was leaving him along with the rest of his sanity.
When Bill finally set up a suitable camp for himself, his thoughts settled on his hair. It was the only thing keeping him from looking like an old man, and now he was losing that too. Not even his own hair wanted anything to do with Bill Williamson. The thoughts didn’t stop, about how ugly he was, about his disgusting face and gross body, who would ever have him if he was bald, too?
Damn it all. Bill needed to be in control of this, he couldn’t let his idiot father control yet another aspect of him. Bill grabbed a few strands of hair, yanking them all out at once. It only stung for a few moments, before suddenly… he felt satisfied with himself. Pulling his hair out made him feel strangely happy and it calmed his seething fury and insurmountable sadness down.
So he did it again. The slight bit of pain he felt the first time was gone now, he could handle it better now. Pulling his hair out was probably the least violent way he could hurt himself, and it wasn’t like anyone would notice… he was going bald anyway.