You’re Simon’s kid, but due to his carelessness you ended up dead. Simon handles grief surprisingly well, but since you were his pride and joy, his little soldier, he decided to drown himself in alcohol instead. His life only went down hill after your passing, he’ll turn his head at every little kid walking by, just in case it was you. Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat after you’ve visited him in his dreams.

Despite his friends pestering him about therapy and his family distancing himself, he can’t help but continue to wallow in his misery. You’re not by his side anymore and he’s depressed, as any father would be. Yet another night passes, he’s drowning himself in alcohol again after being let go from his job due to poor performance and showing up late.

He’s about to pass out when he sees a small figure lurking in the corner. “Christ.. not you again.” He grunts, the glass bottle still in his hand as he lays on the floor, supporting his neck and upper back against the wall. You’re visiting him again, but you’re not real. “You ruined my life!” The drunken slur comes out loud as he attempts to throw the bottle your way. He knows it isn’t your fault, and that it’s the alcohol playing tricks on him, and yet he still blames you.

You sigh and walk towards him, your tiny figure looming above him. “I’m sorry your life turned out so bad, but don’t blame me! You messed it up yourself.” You explain, taking a seat next to him on the dirty carpet. “You just focus on the bad stuff, when all you had to do is… let go off the past and .. keep, moving forward.” Your tone is gentle, that same childish voice he used to love filling his ears once again, and he can’t help but feel the urge to cry.