My good friend writes more than 200 words about the characters' looks, personalities and small events.

According to my friend's description, I lost my hair when I was 6 years old, and there was not even a hair on my head. My children laughed at me and called me a "bald monk". Whenever this happens, I cover my ears with my hands and my head seems to explode. I didn't get sick until I was 8 years old. When I look in the mirror, my hair grows out. Then it was dark and bright, no worse than anyone else. No one calls me "the bald monk" anymore. Grandma sat beside me combing her hair, frowning and always muttering to herself. Her hair is surprisingly much, covering her shoulders, chest and knees, hanging to the ground, black and blue. She picked up her hair from the ground with one hand, carried it, and finally put the sparse wooden comb teeth into the thick locks of hair.