Stigma | KTH ✔

03 | Detention

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Taehyung was the only thing on my mind the next hours in class. My mind refused to let go of the playback of our short staring contest, while I desperately tried to rationalize with myself over the handful of reasons why I had reacted the way I did.

Was it because of his ethereal being? Was it his arrogance that made me dislike his character? Or was it the small sparks between us I refuse to admit to myself that makes me more confused than I've ever been?

Never has anyone ever made me overanalyze a simple eye-contact like this before.

For some reason, I couldn't seem to let go of the fact that he had his arm around some girl's shoulders. Areum's words of wisdom echoes through my head, reminding me that Taehyung has never accepted a confession and only uses the girls for his own pleasure. The thoughts caused a shiver to run down my spine, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn't want to admit that I was slightly disappointed by the fact that he has hooked up with basically half the school. But that was the thing that frustrated me the most; why did it even bother me?

Mr Vong's words just flew right through one ear and out of the other, resulting in me barely taking any notes at all. My eyes were fixed on the window which revealed quite a nice view over the city, which made it even easier for me to let my own mind engulf me with its daydreaming while staring into infinity.

"Miss Aldini, are you listening?"

The universe suddenly throws me back to reality, causing me to flinch as I regain access of control over my mind. I look at Mr Vong with a slightly panicked expression, noticing that the whole class was currently staring at me. I immediately sit up straight in my chair and gulp in fear of what horrors was coming for me next.

"Yes. I'm sorry," I apologize with regret in my voice. Both my teacher's intense, intimidating stare and the unwanted attention from my classmates, caused embarrassment to rise inside me, making my cheeks uncomfortably hot.

"What was I just talking about, then, if you were now listening?" he asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow. Shoot, it was a trick question.

"Fine, I didn't listen. I'm really sorry," I admit this time, the embarrassment keep on building up inside me. The sound of muffled laughter and people whispering was heard throughout the class due to my own stupidity. My teacher was not amused at all. Neither was I, since I was currently envisioning my own slaughter, with a disturbing amount of detail, and funeral before me -- if I now was even worthy of one.

After ten seconds of torturous silence that followed my pathetic attempt to express my regret, Mr Vong finally releases a heavy sigh as he's watching me with a disappointed expression.

"You came late to my class this morning and now you're daydreaming? Miss Aldini, this kind of behaviour is not tolerated in my class. Perhaps detention for the rest of the week will keep you alerted during my lessons, hm? I am deeply disappointed in your behaviour, especially for your first day."

If there was ever to be a perfect day to bury oneself and not return for a couple of days -- if ever -- this was indeed the one. I don't think I'll ever be able to unhear that stern, intimidating tone of his voice when calling my name again. It was engraved forever to remind me of the day I was mentally tortured and then slaughtered in front of an audience.