Lan Jiwan seemed to have recalled something and murmured to herself: "They used to be very good to me, very concerned, perhaps too concerned. They always treated me like a three-year-old child, managing me strictly and worrying about everything.
The food they cooked was always too bland and overcooked. I protested, but they always said that it was nutritious and easy to digest. They said I was picky and didn't eat properly.
Later, I stopped talking to them about it because they wouldn't listen anyway.
The university I attended was quite close to home, only an hour's drive away, so they would come to pick me up almost every weekend, and sometimes even when it wasn't the weekend.
They often talked to the counselors to check up on me. My counselor was once their student too. What clothes I wore each week, who I befriended... they wanted to know all about it.
