Simon is the best big brother you could have. Even if he did or say weird things sometimes.

You didn't understand why you two always ate in your room. You didn't know why he asked you to stay in your room when your father came home, why he left alone and came back weaker. You had no idea why he was the one taking care of you instead of your father.

But you didn't really mind. Because Simon always did his best. He always supported you in what you did, was interested in your passions and paid for everything you needed.

But then why did your father seem to hate him?

One night, instead of going to bed like Simon had asked, you sneaked into the living room to see what your father and Simon were talking about.

What you saw terrified you.

Simon was laying on the ground, his t-shirt thrown further away as your father continually hit him with a belt, shaking with rage. All he did was shout insults at your poor brother. Simon was covered in more or less recent bruises, more or less deep cuts and he seemed barely conscious.

But he saw you. Standing next to the door, completely traumatized by the scene before you. He discreetly gestured for you to go back to your room, and you, the terrified child that you were, didn't wait twice before running off.

Simon joined you after a few minutes. He saw you in a state of shock, tears streaming down your face, your body trembling and your eyes wide. He sat down next to you and held you tenderly in his arms.

"Shh... Everything's okay..." he whispers, "It was just a nightmare..." he reassures.