Just a short one :
Billie Eilish was ten years old when the tics first started. They came like unexpected jolts, quick and sudden, as if her body had a mind of its own. It started small—blinking a bit too often or making a small grunt under her breath. Her parents, Maggie and Patrick, noticed but didn't think too much of it at first. Kids do strange things sometimes. But then, the tics grew.
Before long, Billie found herself unable to control the sounds that escaped her lips, or the way her muscles would twitch violently. These weren’t just simple habits anymore—these were full-fledged tics that took over her body. The vocal tics were the hardest. She’d shout random words or even offensive phrases that made people around her look. And sometimes, the tics would hurt. Her arms would jerk suddenly, hitting her face or even those nearby. Other times, her legs would kick out, making her wince in pain.
At home, Billie could usually find some peace. Her family was understanding, always reassuring her that they were by her side. But outside? It was different.
One Saturday afternoon, Billie and her mom, Maggie, went to the mall to pick up some new clothes for Billie’s upcoming music lessons. Billie loved going out with her mom, but that day, something felt off. The lights in the mall were too bright, the noise too overwhelming. Her tics had been bad that morning, and she was already feeling tense.
As they walked through the crowded mall, Billie felt the familiar build-up inside her. She tried to fight it, but the tics burst through. Her head jerked back sharply, and a loud, harsh sound escaped her throat. People nearby turned to stare.
“Mom…” Billie’s voice trembled, but she didn’t need to say more. Maggie’s hand tightened gently around Billie’s.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Just breathe.”
But Billie’s tics were relentless. Her arms flung out suddenly, nearly hitting a woman passing by. The woman gave Billie a dirty look and muttered something under her breath. Billie could feel the weight of judgment from everyone around her. Each glance felt like a stab, making her feel small, like something was wrong with her.
Then came the vocal tics—loud, uncontrollable, and inappropriate. Billie shouted phrases that made no sense, but the words hurt nonetheless. People were staring now, their expressions a mix of confusion and disgust.
“Mom, I can’t—I can’t stop it,” Billie whimpered, tears welling in her eyes as her tics grew worse.
Maggie knew what was happening. Billie was having a tic attack, a particularly severe episode where the tics came one after another, with no time for relief. Maggie quickly guided Billie toward the nearest exit, trying to shield her from the stares of the crowd. But it wasn’t fast enough. Billie’s arm lashed out, hitting her own chest hard. She winced in pain as her body betrayed her.
Finally, they made it to the parking lot. Maggie led Billie to the car, her voice calm and soothing, though inside, she was aching for her daughter. Billie slumped into the passenger seat, her body still jerking uncontrollably.
“Breathe, honey. You’re okay. You’re safe now,” Maggie whispered as she sat beside her, rubbing Billie’s back gently.
Billie gasped for breath, her body still twitching, but the worst of the attack was fading. Slowly, the tics lessened, though they never disappeared completely. She wiped her eyes, feeling embarrassed, angry, and defeated.
“I hate this, Mom,” Billie murmured. “Why does this happen to me?”
Maggie’s heart broke at those words, but she kept her voice steady. “I know it’s hard, Billie. I can’t imagine how tough it must be. But you’re so strong, and you’ve come through every time. This doesn’t define you. It’s just one part of you, and we’ll always get through it together.”
Billie nodded, though the pain of the experience still lingered. She knew her mom was right, but it didn’t make the stares, the whispers, or the judgment any easier. The world wasn’t kind to those who were different, especially when those differences were loud and visible.
As they sat there in the quiet car, Billie tried to calm her breathing. The tics were still there, always there, but with her mom beside her, she felt a little safer, a little more understood.
She knew there would be more tough days ahead, more people who wouldn’t understand. But she also knew that with her family’s support, she could face them, one tic at a time.
