Simon’s father was extremely abusive. He grew up witnessing his mother be battered— she was a shell of a woman. Somehow she still loved her husband, as evil as he was. There were rare moments he saw the woman she was deep down, when her favourite Siouxsie album was on, and his father was out. But the bruises made it hard to see her for anything but a victim.

Tommy, Simon’s younger brother, had unsurprisingly turned to substances to cope. Having many girls around him. Even at age 16. He fell into the wrong crowd— unlike Simon, he wasn’t AS restricted through life.

Simon resented them all, mostly his father. Who tormented him his entire life, desensitising him to fear. Exposing him to violence and death from a very young age. Growing up, he was completely restricted from any teenage experience. He wasn’t allowed a phone, a computer, or even to go outside if not for school. That was the rule, and he didn’t dare question them.

Even now at 17 and in college, he had no friends and no phone— only a very old PlayStation and a crappy mp3 player. He was required to be home by 4pm everyday, giving him just 20 minutes to walk three miles home from school.

Despite his harsh upbringing, he didn’t find comfort in aggression. Even when provoked— he was the epitome of patient. He didn’t want to be like his father— he refused to be the reason someone cries themselves to sleep, or spent their nights wetting the bed as a child.

All he wanted was peace… and love.