A/N to my Indonesian wattpad readers, I post my original story @suhaa_alhasnah it's all in Indonesian. Please read and follow me.
The first time you felt pain that wasn't immense was when you were nine years old.

You came out as a transgender boy to your sister when you were seven who also came out to you as a transgender girl, and since you were nine, you've been on puberty blockers as your brother and your sister had been too. This is your first time receiving a testosterone shot, your brother will be next. Your mother instructs you to lay on your belly on the infirmary bed as she prepares a syringe.

You watched the needle she prepared and can't help but wonder if you can use it to tear your skin, what would it feel like? Would you like it? Would the sight of blood fear you? Would the sight of blood send your mother to a frenzied panic? You know not, you know she's wired to stay calm and heal you wordlessly- and report to your father about it. A part of you hoped that she would, though. That way, she'd be more than just your father's robot.

Your mother kissed your forehead and told you to brace yourself as she sanitised an area in your left buttock before sticking the needle in there. You stifled a sob to hold in the pain, but somehow, at the same time, you also liked it. It made you feel like you can feel pain. The pain wasn't immense- unlike the pain your father's training gave you- but pain nonetheless. A humane pain that's still tolerable for other humans.

Reminding you that you are, in fact, still human.

OoO

The first time you cut yourself intentionally when you were thirteen.

You were upset when you realised your twin was gone and never came back. It's a result of his own insolence, you remember your father says. Remember this event deep in your heart and never let go. Know what will happen if you ever disobey me again.

It hadn't been anything terrible, you only picked the cuticles of your fingers to the extent of them bleeding and using your fingernails to cut yourself. You remember your father was optimistic that they will return to serve the Umbrella Academy once again and if that was correct, you'd want to be there, don't you? You don't want to do anything brash to yourself, in case they return. You just wanted an outlet, some way to let out your grief.

But no matter what you do, you know it's not the same as looking for your twin yourself. Nothing is. But what can you do but wait? Your powers have nothing to do with time and space and you need them to find your twin. You don't know where are they stuck in- or when, if that's should be the question. They had wanted to achieve time travel, so the question should be when and not where. But you know when/where is not the issue, they're gone anyway. And you won't see them again for a long time.

If only these just-appearing blood can bring them back, you would tear more of your skin.

OoO

It can only be so long before you feel picking your cuticles and using your fingers became unsatisfactory to you. You didn't want to cause any unnecessary panic to your parents or your siblings but you need something else other than your fingernails to satisfy you. You waited until you grow pubic hair or armpit hair to request a razor- but you don't. The first goes to Klaus, being born male who doesn't use puberty blockers, followed by Ben.

You didn't care that you haven't grown pubic hair or armpit hair yet, you need it now. It's not like anyone would check. You braced yourself as you go to your mother, requesting a razor. Your mother taught you about how to safely use the razor around your armpits and vagina, showing you the razor, the spares, and the shaving cream. You didn't care, but you know you'd appreciate the gesture later as you smiled at her and said your thanks before you ran to your room, the razor and the cream in your hand.

Once you reached your room, you locked your door and took out some tissues. You kept the initial razor and the cream in your drawer, taking out one of the spares. You stopped yourself as you wonder how noticeable the scars this will leave- or will it leave worse- but you didn't care. You are barely allowed to wear anything but your uniform when it's daylight, and you wear pyjamas to sleep. The scars you get from picking your skin on your fingertips were barely noticeable and can be dismissed as a working hazard.

You pushed the edge of the razor deep into your right arm and you can't help but smile through the soreness as you watch the familiar liquidised red rubies appear from the depths of your skin. You didn't realise you were crying until you have felt the stinging pain leaving your eyes as every inch of your body protests against the stinging pain, but you didn't care. You need more. You have everything you need to clean yourself afterwards, anyway.

OoO

You heard a knock in the middle of you holding the razor, begging to be let in. You quickly applied tissues on your bloody arm before wrapping it with the bandaid you've prepared earlier, wearing the buttons to your uniform and hiding your razor, the bloodied tissues, and the rest of the bandaid in your drawer. You opened the door to reveal your first sister, looking radiant as ever with her textured hair, dark brown eyes that seem to be drawing you in, and almond skin so nice it reflects the light that shone on her.

She requested to come in and you did, letting her sit on your bed. She asked about your day and you answered that it was fine. It had been fine. She asked if you are ever so lonely here, in this room. You asked why did she ask with a laugh, looking around your room. You quite like how it's designed. It has a bed, a study with a mirror and books, a wardrobe full of either your pyjamas or your uniforms, and colourful hanging aeroplanes to decorate your days. What did she mean when she asked that?

You don't need to ask for an explanation, for she elaborated what she meant herself. She mentioned how your siblings Klaus and Ben are joined to the hip, how your brother Diego is barely noticing her, how your sister Vanya is too focused on her violin, and how withdrawn you are. She also mentioned how lonely she is and that you must be lonely too, and you can't help but find yourself nodding to that statement. You do feel quite lonely, don't you? It's not like you have anything else to do other than complying with your father's orders or doing... this...

Your sister holds your hand as she made you look at her, but you had no means to resist her, anyway. The next couple of moments felt like a haze, for she had planted her lips on yours. You noted how soft and tender your sister's lips feel in your head, but you didn't voice it out as you kiss her back.

So this is what it's like to love someone.

OoO

Your sister begged you to come to her room, as she said the cameras in her room were turned off. You don't know how, you don't ask why. Your sister guides you to sit on her bed with her beside you, her lips planted on yours. She asked if this love story can progress, she's getting bored of just handholdings, hugs, and kisses. You agreed, of course, for her wish is your command. A wide smile appears on your sister's lips as she took off her pyjamas to reveal matching pink underwear. She confessed shyly that she's prepared for this.

You know she expected you to do the same (and you would, you would always do whatever she says), but you need to let her know about your cuts so that it won't come off as a shock. A part of you fears her reaction- will it be violent? Will she report you to your mother? Will she cry? You hope not, hearing her complain about your father's physically and mentally draining training breaks your heart as it is, you don't want to cause any unnecessary heartache.

You told your sister slowly about your cuts. With a smile and a confused gaze, she said she doesn't believe you, not at all. You are prepared for this reaction, so you uncovered your sleeves to show her your still-healing cuts and was met with a gasp of horror. You started to apologise profusely as you backed away from her bed in shame, but she crawled to you and hugged you instead. She apologised to your ear for her horrified reaction- she knows it's not what you need- and you can talk to her if you ever feel like you want to cut yourself.

You felt a warm fuzzy feeling hearing her offering, a feeling you've never felt before. Your sister asked if you are still up for this, and you responded by taking off your pyjamas just to your boxers as well.

OoO

The day comes where you can begin a hysterectomy. You can never imagine being responsible for another life or ever getting pregnant in the future, so losing your uterus is not much of a loss for you.

Your mother expected you to change your clothes from wearing a uniform to wearing a hospital gown in the bathroom and you cursed as you realised the hospital gown is short-sleeved, exposing your self-inflicted cuts. You can't help but wonder if you can sneak into the infirmary without your siblings seeing, and if you can get your whole sex reassignment surgery done without your mother noticing your scars. At least one of your sister already knows.

Just get it over with, you think. It'll be over. You know you walk fast- being very tall and all- and your mother won't talk about it. If she will, the Umbrella Academy has taken care of worse, like your twin's disappearance or your siblings' outrages when they're hungover (they think they're being discreet, but everyone knows). Your addiction to self-harm is nothing compared to that. You did promise to your sister that you'd talk to her if you want to cut, but you didn't. You cut anyway. Not because you don't trust her, but because you don't want to bother her and you don't have the energy to talk.

So you did. You left the bathroom and quickly went to the infirmary, silently happy as you realise no one was outside and the only thing you can hear was your sister's beautiful violin. You entered the infirmary to be met with your mother, who smiled happily at the sight of you, telling you to lay down the bed. You feel you can't fear your mother with your cuts- though you know robots don't feel fear- and you feel you need to let her know. She will be your surgeon, she's bound to notice. A part of you feels that she had a hunch already as she saw your scarlet-stained white bandaid.

When you started to talk about your cuts, your mother listened to you with no doubt, no judgement, no gasp of horrors, nothing. You slowly opened the bandaid to show her your cuts, her facial expression sombre and nothing you've ever seen before. Your mother told you your arms should be cleaned again and the bandaids replaced, and you didn't fight her as you laid on the hospital bed. You winced as you feel the alcohol dab on your still-open wounds and your mother stopped for a moment before continuing.

OoO

In your room, you contemplated what your mother said. You remembered her recommending to oust your emotions through poetry and paintings instead, and you don't know if it's a good idea, but you tried. You look up the sky to see the beautiful full moon, the moon you've always loved and always wanted to travel. Why don't you write about that? You've always loved the moon, don't you? You wrote about how beautiful the moon is, how it pulls you in.

Words flow so easily from the deepest of your heart and you can't help but stare at the paper you've written on, staring at the words that flowed out of your heart so easily. You stared at the object of your poetry once again with love in your heart, imagining how beautiful it is. But the happiness didn't last long, for you closed your eyes as you leaned towards the table, resting your head on your hand before you let the dam of your tears be broken. You wondered if your biological mother is also staring at the moon, thinking about you as you are thinking about her.

You wondered if your biological mother had kept you. You wouldn't have met your siblings, of course, and there wouldn't be your mother, but at least your powers wouldn't be pushed to the limit. You wouldn't have gotten so tired daily or be so dehydrated often or be forced to witness killings or be a killing machine or have broken so many bones at such a young age. You wondered what is her name, if she would be radiant like the moon, how would she behave like, what did she do, how will she react if she knows how her biological son was being treated.

You ached to grab the razor that's so within range for you but you did promise your mother you'd try writing your feelings before resorting to that. So you did. You grabbed your pen again, drawing (or more likely, sketching). Your biological mother would look very much like you - as you have no biological father- with blonde hair and blue eyes. You wondered what would her name be.

OoO

You are locked in a small room with your brother, away from your other siblings. Your brother wouldn't use his powers here and unleash the beast within him, for you are within range and he fears he'd kill you. You have made so many dents in the room but nothing impactful that'll let you both out. Your hopes peaked when you heard the latch on the door be opened- and you are faced with one of your attackers- who has a gun out and directed at you.

You wasted no time in trying to disarm the attacker- and you succeeded as the gun is now in your hand. But your attacker takes out a serrated black knife from the holster as they kept going forth at you, murder in their eyes. You backed away and found yourself cornered to the wall. You took out the gun, ready to shoot them. At the same time, your attacker grabbed your brother and placed the black knife to his neck, laughing and taunting you.

You can put the gun down, but if you do, there is no guarantee that your brother will survive. All they want is information about the Umbrella Academy- as if you have them. You are not the real leader, in actuality. But you remember your twin, you can't lose another sibling. So you did, you dropped the gun, begging for the assailant to let your brother go. Your assailant smirked as they slit your brother's neck instead- and you've never reached for something so quickly before in your life as you shot the assailant mercilessly.

You ran to your dying brother, watching as the familiar liquidised red rubies fall from his neck like a waterfall. You beg your brother to stay with you, wondering where the hell are your other siblings as you tried to somehow stop the blood flow with your hands. Your brother smiled at you weakly as he grabbed your hand, pushing them away. He told you to please let him die and that he's sorry for not being more involved in your life.

You yelled like you've never yelled before as your brother's eyes turned cold and lifeless.

OoO

You rushed to your room after the funeral of your brother, tears leaking from your eyes. You know your brother was right, you did let your brother die. You let your brother die. You failed to keep them all safe at all costs when that's what you must do as the leader of the Umbrella Academy. You know what you must do, chase him. Bring him back, maybe. You're persuasive, maybe you can persuade God to return your brother as you'll sacrifice your life. You just need to find heaven, first.

You lock your door so no one can interrupt you. You will make the sacrifice. You opened your wardrobe to take one of your bedsheets, passing it through the top wardrobe handle with the help of a chair. You tie two dead knots on the bedsheet, passing your head through the hole created before kicking the chair to make it fall, hanging you. You let out choking noises as your body naturally struggled- but you ignored them. You need to make this sacrifice.

OoO

You awoke in a hospital bed in the infirmary, your mother waiting next to you, wearing a hospital gown that exposed your cuts fully. You wondered why have you survived- you locked the door! You made no noises whilst doing it! Your mother smiled at you and kissed your forehead as she prepared you a glass of water, asking you to drink it. You drank it out of respect for your mother. It turns out, you are thirsty as a camel as you downed the glass in one go.

You went straight to the point and asked your mother how did she know what you were doing. Your mother answered that it was one of your siblings who tipped her off and she used her robotic strength to break through your locked door. You asked if your father knows, even though you knew the answer already. She told you that you are excused from your training as you are under a 72-hour watch.

You asked if your other siblings know. She said she doesn't allow them to visit you yet to give you some time to rest, but she thinks your sibling has told them. You requested for your sibling to come and visit you. You told her that you want to thank them, but really, you feel like they failed your plan. Your mother smiled as she agreed, leaving you behind to get your sibling. You stared at the falling snow outside the window, wondering if you'll succeed if you fall. You wonder how can your sibling tip her off.

Your ears caught the sound of the infirmary door opening and you turned your head, revealing your mother and your red-eyed sibling. Your sibling gasped in horror with a hand over their mouth- a sound familiar to you- as their eyes gazed at your horrendous cuts. You can see your mother hugging your sibling, whispering something to their ear, though you started to see some tears from the edge of their eyes. You felt that they weren't new- though you felt those tears were for your other brother, not you.

Your sibling started the conversation by saying that they're really glad that you're still alive, and you chuckled as you honestly told them that you're not. You told them that you love them, but you can't live anymore. They told you that your other brother wouldn't have wanted you to join them- and though a part of it was that you wanted to replace your place with his, you told him it wasn't your only reason. They asked you to elaborate. You refused to.

OoO

After your 72-hour watch, you returned to your room. You opened your drawer, expecting to see your razor and the spares, but you can't find them. You searched throughout the room but you still can't find them. You had a feeling that your mother confiscated them from you and you felt like shouting at her. How dare she! It's not her place! It's not her belonging!

It doesn't matter, for you still have another plan. Again, you changed your clothes from pyjamas to your uniform, tying the shoelaces as you opened the window of your room, getting to the ledge outside. You closed your eyes, wondering if it'll be worth it. You wonder if your siblings will grieve over your loss- they won't, you answer your question. You wonder if your mother will grieve over your loss- she can't, you answer your question. You wonder if your father will grieve over your loss- he won't, you answer your question. You wonder if his companion will grieve over your loss- he won't, you answer your question.

You can hear a voice being begged to let in, frantic knocks on your door. But you ignored them, for you have set your mind to this. You hear the door being opened and you immediately jumped, just in time two hands hugged your body back, causing you to fall back in. You looked around to see your brother and your sister, your sister's arms around you. All you wanted was to scream how the hell did they get into your room, but you didn't. You also wonder why is Klaus always blocking your plan.

OoO

You returned to your room after your sister requested another snogging session in her room. You obeyed her like a dog, you always do. You checked her drawer when she was looking away and you found her razor. You didn't steal it as you fear she'll notice, it doesn't mean you weren't itching for it, though. But you will get something similar, something you hope your mother won't notice and confiscate. You locked your door to ensure no one will barge in.

You opened the window, grabbed a heavy pencil case, and push a little area on the window to the point of breaking, giving you some shards. You discard the little ones, holding the largest one. The largest one sits so comfortably in your palm, grabbing it. You ran it across your scarred arm so deep, letting the blood spray out like a fountain. You laughed as you kept watching the blood flowing out from you like a fountain as you've hit an artery, and you're sure you'll die this time.

OoO

You woke up in the infirmary for the millionth time, your mother waiting next to you. You see that you are wearing a hospital gown with your cut arm bandaged. You wondered how have you survived- you had a feeling your sibling might be behind this. Your mother smiled at you as she called your name softly, asking if you feel any pain. You answered that your arm feels sore, though the pain you get of failing your suicide attempt was much greater than that.

You asked your mother how can you survive and how did she know what you were doing. Your mother answered that- your suspicions were true- it was one of your siblings who tipped her off and being a robot she can easily break through your locked door. She said that your father decided to excuse you from any training or missions for three months and your room will be modified. You asked her to elaborate.

She told you that the windows will be replaced with a three-inch steel block that can turn into bars in case you want to see the world if you press a button. There won't be a lock in your room and the handle of your door will also be modified to smaller ones that leave little room for you to grip, in case you decide to lock anyone out, and your mother will keep your clothes/bed sheets and you'll have to request them at times, your wardrobe will be taken away. You'll just be wearing the white shirt and culottes, not the vest of your uniform.

You felt ashamed with all these modifications, you know all your siblings know by now. You can't face Diego, he'll taunt you endlessly. You can't face Vanya, she'll stare at you with pity. You can't face Allison, she'll hug you and cry at you. You know Klaus always interrupt your attempts. You hoped that your father cares, but a part of you wonders if he really does. Maybe he does care, he just shows it differently. He made all these accommodations for you, didn't he?

OoO

When Diego leaves, you let him go. When Vanya leaves, you let her go. When Klaus leaves, you let him go. Now it's time to let Allison leave too.

She requested your company in her room and you found suitcases ready and packed, a sight you have familiarised yourself with as you saw your other siblings do the same. You do not ask what was she about to do- you know she knows that you know. As she turned to face you, she told you that she's leaving to start her career as a Broadway musical performer. She told you that she'll miss you and she wants you to go with her, but you can't. You said the reason was your father needs you too much, but really, it's because you don't want to be a bother.

She sat on her bed as she asked you to describe what does dying feel like to her. You took a deep breath in, it is a complicated feeling. You died since you were thirteen years old when your twin has been ripped away from you. But you know she doesn't want that answer, she wants actual dying. So you described the feeling to your best ability. When you hanged yourself, you felt numb all over your body. When you tried to jump from the ledge, all you feel is ice-cold fear. When you cut yourself and you hit an artery, you felt glee with the familiar pain of cutting (your sister shudders at this) and extreme tiredness.

Your sister took your bandaged arms and kissed them. She said she thought you're clean from cutting already, three months into your last suicide attempt when you came back to train. You told her that it was never real, you only pretended so you can have your life back as normal as it was. Your sister didn't like how you lied, but she let you be. She kissed your lips, whispering how she'll miss you and how she loves you, so she needs to let you know about something. She hopes you'll still love her after this.

She told you how she rumoured you to love her because she was lonely and she needed attention. There was a moment of haze where afterwards, you returned to see your sister's guilty eyes. You didn't lash out, you didn't feel anger, you didn't feel anything. You told her you forgave her, when really, you felt nothing at all. There's nothing to forgive when there's nothing to get mad at. You told her that she made you feel like a human. That couldn't be further from the truth, for you have died a long time ago.

Your sister hugged you and you feel more human than ever.

OoO

Now that the last sibling of yours have left, you can do this truly uninterrupted.

You sneaked to your twin's room and locked the door, yours still have the modified handle. You sat on their bed, hands travelling the bed. You remembered having quarrels with your twin about which constellation is the most tragic- you opinionated that it was the Lyre constellation, your twin opinionates it was the entire Perseus and Andromeda myth. You remember your bickers, your shoves, your talks. You told them that you want to be an astronaut one day, and you remember they told you they want to be an archaeologist. You miss them and you love them.

You remembered the snogging sessions you shared with your sister on another bed. You miss her. You always wondered how can that relationship be a thing. It was always a lie, as it turned out, and you don't like that. You realised that you never liked it, you complied to her will completely like the soldier you are. But you do like it when she comforts you after you told her about your cuts, you do like it when she comforts you after your suicide attempts. You miss her and you love her.

You remembered your brother's dying words, how he smiled at you weakly as he told you not to save him and to let him die. You remembered how he apologised for not being more involved in your life when he should've been, and you find yourself regretting why it couldn't be you instead. Why didn't you be more involved in your brother's life? Why didn't you die? Why did you let him die? Why didn't you try harder to save him? Why did you have to fight the assailant- resulting in his death?

You remembered how your sibling is somehow always there to stop you from killing yourself. You had a feeling that it was the ghosts surrounding your sibling selling you out and they told your mother. Anything else beyond that- there are little to no interactions between you two. Not you and them, not you and your brother, not you and your other sister. You are only actively interacted with two of six of your siblings- turns out, the interaction with one was a result of a spell.

You felt tight in your chest and you need to let the feeling out. Crying, screaming is not an option, for it disrupts the peace of this house. But your plan- it will solve it all. You stood up to the mirror in the room, taking out the knife you've stolen from the kitchen. You took a deep breath in as you closed your eyes, bracing yourself. This is how your brother died, you must repent. This is the way. You opened your eyes as you brought the knife to your neck, and with one swift motion, you cut yourself so deep that you choked in your own blood.

You watched the whole thing unfolds, watching your blood flowing from your neck before you dropped, seeing nothing more.