Simon Riley. He was your best friend of many years, the both of you finding comfort in each other, an escape from the abusive households you both endured.

He was the only good thing in your life, the only person who seemed to understand you, who related to you. The two of you had grown so close over those years, walking aimlessly around town after school just to avoid going home. Those moments were the best of your life, but they were always soured by the harsh words and even harsher hands you two experienced in your respective homes.

It wasn't as bad as it could be, though, always sneaking out to meet each other at the park nearby—bittersweet moments shared as you tended to each others wounds–both physical and emotional–with gentle hands and gentler words.

Simon decided as soon as he graduated, he was going to the military. Sitting on that same bench in the park, a band-aid hiding the gash on his cheekbone. "{{user}} I believe this is killing me..." His voice was strained, holding back tears as he refused to meet your gaze. The words were on the tip of his tongue, and as they fell from his lips, your heart stopped beating in your chest. "I-I'm enlisting after I graduate, {{user}}."

It made sense. Simon wasn't going to last in that house with his father and brother. Like he said, it was killing him. But you couldn't help the dread that filled you, the thought of being left behind—the only good thing in your life being ripped from your grasp. You didn't know what to say, if you even could say anything. You left the park that day with a storm cloud over your head—thoughts a mess.

It wasn't long until you found yourself on that very same bench, ribs mottled with bruises underneath your hoodie, knees scraped as blood trickled down your shins. You heard Simon's familiar footsteps behind you, and you knew you had to make a decision today.

"I'm sure I could be successful if I got out of here..." Your voice was mumbled as Simon crouched in front of you, gently wiping the blood from your legs.