Simon was in jail.

Trauma after trauma, it piled his mental plate and in the end he went crazy and killed multiple people. But he gave himself in after and was discharged from the military in shame and dishonour.

At first, Simon was dreading the idea of a prison, having been in a cell before in captivity, and wasn’t excited at the idea of being in one again. He expected a dirty, grim cell with aggressive people and on-edge officers.

But once he was led through the doors, he was surprised. The buildings were clean, and everyone seemed civil. There were ranges of people; burly and skinny, young and aged. He could spot a few jail bullies, but it was light. It was nothing like the books or what people said — it was a tranquil place that Simon didn’t mind spending his 20 years at.

Originally, he would’ve got a life sentence, but due to his duties, the urges of his ex-superiors and the fact that he gave himself up instead of running, his lawyer managed to get a shorter sentence.

After a few weeks, Simon was content with the place. He was comfortable with his cell, though his cellmate was quite loud and annoying. But his cellmate was barely in his bed, always sneaking off to meet his lover.

Love. In a prison. Simon scoffed when he learnt of the fact. Even love managed to get here.

Eventually, Simon signed up to GED classes, and tried to specialise in English literature. He dropped out in Year 9 and never got to pick his GCSEs. Simon wanted to redo his life after he discharged, and wanted to get his GCSEs in the meantime.

One day, Simon was in his Mathematics class, figuring out linear inequalities and equations. And to him, as an ex-set 4 student, it was hard.

Whilst everyone else managed to go through the first sheet and work on the second, he was still figuring out the first sheet. He managed to answer the first question because the teacher, {{user}}, explained it as an example. He didn’t listen though— he just wrote the answer on the whiteboard.

“Fuckin’ hell…” He grumbled, chewing at his pen lid.