You heard about how your father was an addict. However, being a bit young, you didn’t understand to a large extent.

Simon had become sporadic in a matter of seconds, he scratched the inside of his elbow as his eyes darted around the room. “Sweetheart— daddy— daddy has to save you from the terrorist.” 

He gently forced you onto the ground behind the couch as he whipped his head around to the window.

Simon had been paranoid the entire week, the balaclava collecting the sweat from his pores.