Chapter 3 3

I wish you a wonderful life! She couldn't wait to take off the wig on her head, and then fully turned on the two faucets of the bathtub.Her scalp was itchy, so she leaned forward and ran her fingers through her hair.When she straightened up, she carefully looked at her own face in the mirror. The years have left marks on her face.She was only thirty-two, but it was easy to be ten years older.Being ten years older than her actual age was actually her own guess.Much disappointment had carved fine lines around her eyes, but she was good-looking at the moment, or, at least, good-looking enough to attract someone like Jorgen.A man like Glennburgh, and that's all she wanted.

The tub was almost to the brim, so she lowered herself into the hot water in the tub, some of which splashed over the sides.She reached over the edge of the tub, trying to save the suit she'd left on the bathroom floor, but her movement caused a ripple, and more water splashed onto the floor.She was going to dry the suit on a hot towel rack. She leaned back and enjoyed the shower, which is the kind of thing that makes life worthwhile.If one's ambition is not great, this is a meaningful life.At least living off a rucksack has taught her to appreciate the little things in life that others take for granted, many of which don't even notice many of the simple joys.

Once, she lived that life too, so she knew what she was talking about.But that was a long time ago. She used to be Sybila.Vera Mina.Beatrice.Miss Sibylla Wilhelmina Beatrice Forsenstrom, daughter of the CEO.That Sibylla bathed every day, taking it for granted, as if it were a human right.Maybe this should be a human right.Even so, she no longer has the opportunity to create a whole set of experiences out of her own value. Sybila.Vera Mina.Beatrice.Fersonstrom. It's really no surprise that she never intended to get used to the name.The baptismal gift God gave her was a lifetime disability.

Sibylla. At the Hultaryd school, even the dullest child was able to display an unexpectedly high IQ when he invented a new homonym for her name.Although the sausage and burger stand on the town square is also called Sibylla, and in order to attract customers to the door, it uses the backlit sign to display the word Sibylla, but people still can't pronounce her name.And just like that, Xiangyang (and many irreverent variations) appear in all sorts of useful metaphors, making one joke after another.Wait until everyone finds out that her name is also Wei Lian Ming Na.With Beatrice, the imagination seemed to stretch even further.

Our kids are different!There is no doubt about it.But the question is, are all children unique? At least her parents' strategy worked on one level.Although their daughter spent several years attending a local school full of ordinary kids from the lower classes, she was not in the slightest risk of hanging out with these kids. Sibylla's mother has always emphasized how special her daughter is, which of course gave Sibylla's classmates all kinds of reasons to reject her.To Beatrice.It was very important for Sibylla to know her place in the social class, but it was even more important for everyone else to know it too.To her, a thing has no real value until other people also value it and delight in finding it highly desirable.Beatrice had the greatest pleasure in stirring up the envy and jealousy of others.

Almost all of her classmates' parents worked in her father's factory.Mr Folsenstrom is the leader of the local council, and his decisions carry weight.Much of Hartley's work and many other matters depended on what he said, and all the kids knew it.On the other hand, they are too young to think seriously about the job market. In any case, most of these children hope that their lives will not stop at their parents' situation. The metal foundry in his home looked after the machines and felt that he could get away with occasionally taunting Sibylla in the school hallway. In neither case did Mr. Folsenstrom care.

Managing the successful family business kept him too busy to care about parenting, and he had no interest at all.The high-quality carpets in the Folsenstrom mansion do not show the traces of him stepping into Sibylla's room. He went to work in the morning and returned home in the evening, eating at the same table, but often engrossed in thinking or checking the accounts. and other files.Sibylla never knew what was going on behind her father's upright appearance, she just obediently ate up all the food she was supposed to eat, and as soon as anyone allowed her to leave the table, she would leave immediately.

Very well, Sybylla, you can go to bed now. Sibylla stood up, reached for her plate, and was about to take it to the kitchen. Sybylla, please!Gun︱Brit will clear the table later. But at school, you have to clear the table after every meal.It's really hard to remember which rules to follow at school and which ones apply at home.She left the tray where it was and walked over to her father. Good night, Daddy!She kissed her father quickly on the cheek.Good night! Sibylla walked towards the door. Sibylla, have you forgotten something? She turned to look at her mother. Why don't you go upstairs and say goodnight?

Really!My dear, today is Wednesday, you know there is a meeting of the Women's Association tonight.When did you learn it? sorry. Sibylla walked up to her mother, and kissed her mother's cheek just as quickly. Her face smelled of powdered cake and a day's worth of perfume. If you need anything, go to Gumbritt. Gombrit was her housemaid, and was in charge when Mrs. Folsenstrom didn't have time to cook, clean, or assist Sybylla with her homework.God!Mrs. Fosenstrom had to think about her charity work after all, and how were the kids in Biafra going to live without Mrs. Fosenstrom?

Sybylla remembered being jealous of these faraway children, who were not only terrified, but didn't understand that well-meaning ladies from the other side of the world would spend their time worrying about them.When she was six years old, she decided it would be better to do something to get more attention for herself; it seemed like a good idea to be as frightened as these children were, so one night she decided to sleep in the big, dark, In the creepy attic.She tiptoed up the steps with her own pillow and slept on a pile of old rugs.In the morning, Gombrit finds her in the attic and, of course, Gombrit has to report her actions to Beatrice.The rebuke took more than an hour, and the whole incident worried Beatrice so much that she suffered from migraines for days afterwards.Of course, this turned out to be Sybylla's fault.

She seemed to thank her mother for at least one thing.After nearly eighteen years at the Folsenstrom family, she developed an uncanny ability to analyze the psychological states of those around her.The instinct of self-preservation made her a living seismograph, able to respond to the slightest shift, always alert to her mother's every thought, and soon able to predict the possible cause of her tantrums.She remains hypersensitive to the body language and commands of those around her.As it happens, such traits greatly contributed to the life she chose in the end. The water in the tub was getting colder.She stepped out of the tub, shaking off the water and all the memories.She wrapped herself in a beautiful thick, soft bathrobe that hung on a heated towel rail next to the tub, and walked into the room to explore.There was an American soap opera on TV, with narration and lots of pre-recorded laughs, but it turned out to be really funny.She sat down and watched TV for a while, while, as usual, carefully painted her nails. Always keep it clean and tidy.This is the first rule. Observing this rule set her apart from most of the other homeless she knew, and being aware of it kept her a step away from a utterly hopeless misfortune. What matters is what you look like, simple as that. Citizens who live by society's standards, with respect as their goggles, are not so different from each other.If you are not prepared to fit society's standards, others will treat you accordingly.Weakness itself is a kind of provocation. If people face people who have no self-esteem, they will be frightened.Shameless behavior is an offense, and of course no one behaves like that unless someone deserves to be offended.Everyone has their own choice, so, where is your problem?Do you want to wallow in your own shit?That's fine, but don't expect people to care. No one cares, maybe!But if you're a good citizen, you might be able to get some of the taxes we pay, which is beggar's food, so you don't really starve to death.We're not monsters, you know, we pay every month to help people like you, but don't think that means you can hang around the subway station, stick your dirty hands in front of our eyes, beg us for more Much cash.It's a very clumsy fraud, you know. We mind our own business, please mind your own, okay?If you complain about what happened to you, we recommend that you go away and get a job.Don't have a place to live?Be realistic!Do you think our home was given to us by a kind fairy?Besides, if that's the problem, let's build an institution to house people like you, shall we?Stop wandering around. Of course, don't hang around my house, absolutely not, think about the kids, you know.The last thing we need is lots of useless drug dealers hanging out in our neighborhoods stealing, shooting, and discarding syringes.Definitely go elsewhere. She covered herself with white body lotion and looked longingly at the bed.Yet just sitting here, warm and clean and knowing that a soft and inviting bed awaits her, is wonderful.She must be able to sleep peacefully through the night. She decided to stay up late to enjoy the anticipation a bit more.