Forbidden | KTH

| 5 |

Your POV

I sit with my cheek slumped against my palm, which is being supported by my now painful elbow leaning on the wooden surface of my desk as I stare at psychology study on the screen of my laptop. I can feel the surface of my eyes starting to sting from the brightness - the sky is clouded over with thick rainfall outside and I hadn't bothered to turn the lights on to adjust my vision. Despite it being two in the afternoon, my room has a dark and murky atmosphere.

I'm in my second year of an online university course in psychology. I know it sounds strange, but people have always interested me. How they act, how they think, how they build relationships. It's a subject which I have always viewed as something which would let me become more knowledgeable about the world. My logic was that you can learn about how the physical world was built through geography, how wars were cause in history. But we would have none of this knowledge without the actions of people. Everything that has been constructed, every historic event was caused by the actions of people and how they thought and behaved. That always intrigued me.

Lisa and I were home schooled for our entire lives along with the other children in our family. Some of our distant cousins who had much lower profiles in the family were sent to normal school with other children, but they were exclusive and private. It was like the Sang family had their own little school which all the children that were part of the estate attended. My father was rich enough to afford private tutors in each area of study. Ranging from primary school basic reading and writing to when we turned eighteen. If there was a subject, anything at all, which we were interested in, then he would make calls and ensure that we had a teacher for it.

Looking back on something which most people would find bizarre, being educated with my sister and cousins only was the norm for me. I still had to get up when it was still dark outside during the winter, spend hours doing homework after my classes finished for the day. But I did at times envy people who got to experience what statistically was the 'norm'. Everyone as a teenager has a desire to fit in, to conform and missing out on such a key part of 99% of peoples' lives where they form relationships and memories blended with my suffocating family left me with days when I, rather simply, hated everything.

Although I longed to go to public school with people my age, there were some parts I enjoyed. Not having to pull a grubby uniform over your head every morning, avoiding bullies and people who judge you about whatever they fancy. The kind of things I saw in movies and TV shows.

My father used to tell me that all schools were like that.

That was before I realised that nearly everything he used to tell me was bullshit.

After my 'conversation' with him last night, I nearly ran up here. I didn't even bother accepting the bandages Lisa had ran off to get me. I simply used the handkerchief and pressed it to my wound, like he had done less than an hour before. It didn't take long for the bleeding to stop so I decided to clean it. It was a beautiful piece of material - I didn't want to ruin it.

My cut was still itchy though. I had a constant compulsion to move my fingers towards it, picking at the dry eruption from my skin. I hate having scabs. Their dryness, bloodiness and unevenness gets rid of the satisfying smoothness my skin could be like. That's why I always end up with small white scars dotted over my body and the one on my neck will be no different.

My head then jolts up from my palm at the shock a jump-scare worthy sound next to me of the door flinging open and slamming against the wall next to it.

At first, no one appears for a second or two, causing me to twitch my head in confusion.

And then Lisa makes her entrance with a slide, gracefully dragging her other foot along the floor with both hands tucked behind her back and a deliberately cheesy smile painted on her face.