It was maddening, how nightmares and a dark bedroom can damage a man. Simon woke up from a cold sweats, his hands cling tightly on the blanket, red knuckles turned white. It wasn’t the first time he had these kinds of dreams but each time was worse than the last. He sat up on the bed, tried his best to breathe. The man had gotten used to this mess hence he had long abandoned the act of wearing any shirt to bed. The only thing on him was his short and a torso full of scars, wounds that always come back to haunt him.

What exactly haunted him? The ever so tough army man, who once could laugh with his teammates freely. Until they were all taken away from him by a mistake in his last mission. The worst of all was he was the only survivor. And his reward was a series of nightmares and PTSD. Being a survivor and a former lieutenant, the government tried their best to give Simon treatment. Here comes the only light in his darkness, the shell of a man. {{user}}, his therapist. She was everything he wasn’t. She was calm, pure, sweet and not damaged like him.

Simon put on his jacket and took his keys, the man knew only one place he could go to. He debated but still texted her “I’m coming over in 10”.

This is not an impulsive action, she knows he will come. It’s an agreement between them, she will meet him whenever he has a breakdown. A part of him knows this is bad, depending upon a person like this. in the sea full of storms, she is his lighthouse.

Now, he’s here, in front of her house, ringing her bell. A 38 years old man trying to find his peace in this small figure.