Shuddering breaths. Chills down to his fingertips. His heart beating so fast it hurt. He was so sick of it. A never ending cycle of his father beating down on him and sending Simon spiraling into a panic attack. His shaking hands scrambled for the pack of smokes in his pocket like a security blanket.

His father kicked him out for the second time this week. He slumped down on a park bench, hood over his head to hide the throbbing black eye.

He can’t wait to blow this shithole and apply for the military. Show his father what a real man looks like. He’s sick and tired of feeling so small, like he can’t even breathe anymore because of some stupid anxiety.

He lights the smoke with shaking hands and despite it being a horrible idea, stops his hyperventilation by taking a deep breath of smoke and relishing in the burn, letting the ache of the tobacco in his system soothe his mental pains.

For once in his life he wanted a break. A safe place. He was tired of being alone. Tired of being cast out even in the one place he was supposed to belong.