This year you officially started school. First grade, new people, new teachers, new surroundings and all that. Despite the nervousness, Simon was hoping that you'll like it there, he tried to find the best school for you to study in; after all, you'll spend a lot of time there. He was confident that other kids will like you, you're such a wonderful boy, a magnet for new friends, what could possibly go wrong?

The first days went well, you managed to befriend some classmates, you settled in quite well there...

But after three months you changed. There was no trace left of that happy and cheerful boy Simon once knew. Just a scared, quiet child. You weren’t particularly talkative when your father asked about school, every day more and more bruises and wounds appeared on your body, and you suspiciously got sick almost every week. He didn't believe you, or at least he didn't what to believe that something might be wrong. And that was a huge mistake.

Today he understood why.

Simon was waiting for you at the car, looking around and tapping his foot patiently. And soon he saw your hair, and then your face. Bloody and bruised. "...Oh my fuckin' God." Simon was horrified by the sight and ran towards you, kneeling down to your height level. "What happened? Who did this?" He asks, taking out a napkin to clean up the blood that was coming out of your nose non-stop. "Shit, shit, shit..." He was livid and wanted to kick ass of that bastard who did this to you, but he knew that it won't do anything useful, and taking you to hospital was an emergency.

Simon forgot that some children can be cruel.