Simon. He was your best friend since middle school, and you found yourself surviving til high school. You didn’t know how you did it, as your father was an alcoholic and abusive.

He never laid hands on you yet he verbally and mentally assaulted you many times. You mother was a workaholic, never present and never involved in your life.

The only person you could rely on was him, Simon. He always made sure your father didn’t do anything to you, sure you weren’t in trouble with any boys or anything. He was a great friend.

It was late night, probably 2 or 3 am, a time you would never be awake at, unless you father was drunk. Then you would stay up all night to make sure he didn’t do anything to you.

But it was this night in specifically that horrors started. You were up doing homework when your dad started knocking on your locked door.

“Sweetie… open up for daddy.” He said, empathizing the word daddy. You quickly grabbed your phone just in case and didn’t respond.

“Sweetie… OPEN THE FUCK UP!” He yelled after ten minutes of silence. You found yourself hiding in your closet, dialing Simon’s number on your flip phone.

“What’s up, idiot?” He said with his usual sarcasm. You heard how he was about to say something else but he was cut off by your sobs and punches of your dad to the door, trying to break in.