"Si, did you take your pills?"
Simon glanced up from his half finished bowl of Cheerios and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face with a soft yawn.
"Yeah, ma," he replied after a moment, blinking a few times to wake himself up before pushing the bowl of soggy cereal away from him. He got up and slung his backpack over his shoulder with a huff, looking at his mother who had come over to him from the sink with a small smile on her lips.
"Goodness, Simon, you look like the dead," she said quietly, brushing her fingers against Simon's cheek and under the dark bags lining his eyes. Her gaze lingered on the band-aid on his nose, and she shook her head, taking a step back. "Have a good day at school, love. Be careful, alright?" Simon hesitated, then nodded, leaning over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.
"Of course, Mami. I'll be home before you know it." His mother chuckled and wiped a tear from her eye, nodding back. He gave her a wave and moved towards the door. He paused to bend down and scratch his cat, Benson, behind the ears. Benson gave him a satisfied mew, then proceeded to make his way down the basement stairs to take a nap somewhere. Simon stood up and walked out the front door, closing it behind him.
The glare of the sunlight made him squint, covering his eyes with one hand as he made his way down the porch steps and out to the yard. He walked to the rusty gate that barred the sidewalk from his home and opened it, immediately greeted by the yelling of his neighbor Patty.
"Si! Hey, Si, over here!" Simon turned his gaze to Patty Neuben and smiled, watching the dark skinned girl run in his direction. Patty and Simon had been very good friends since they were young, having been pen pals for a good number of years before Simon and his mother moved to Springwood, and Simon trusted Patty with his life. She was the only person at Springwood High that knew about his… issues. His thoughts were cut off when Patty drew near and she let out a soft puff of air. "Hey there, hotshot. Ready for Ms. Bender's Econ quiz?"
Simon made a face in response, which drew a laugh from Patty. "Alright, man, let's go. We'll miss the bus." Patty took his hand and proceeded to drag Simon along with a grin, Simon laughing as he ran as well. They reached the bus stop in record time, watching as it pulled up and opened its doors to the milling crowd of sleep-deprived teens that were pushing and shoving each other out of boredom. The two friends waited for the crowd to board the bus first before going in last, as to avoid the shoving and snide remarks so early in the morning. Patty let go of Simon's hand and made a beeline to a seat towards the back of the bus, waving Simon over.
Simon smiled and began walking, only to trip over something and go crashing to the ground. He heard some snickers above him and he looked up, rubbing the spot where his forehead had collided with the floor of the bus. Sitting next to Simon's resting place was a local bully named Joe. Simon never bothered to learn his full name and really never gave the guy the time of day, unless Joe decided to pick on him. Simon supposed this was one of those moments.
"Watch where you're going, fag," Joe said with a sneer. The comment drew a few snorts of laughter from the watching crowd. Simon felt his face heat up and he moved his gaze back to the dirty floor of the bus. He took a moment to collect himself before attempting to stand, only to feel Jo's boot collide with Simon's shin, knocking him over again.
"Whoops. My bad." Joe grinned down at him, making Simon shrink back into the seat he leaned on. Simon sighed softly and closed his eyes, standing slowly and making his way over to Patty, who gave him a sad look.
"I'm sorry, Si," she said quietly, putting a hand on Simon's shoulder. Simon simply shook his head and looked out the window, letting his tired brain sink into a warm lull. His gaze became unfocused, and he let his mind begin to wander. Simon began to fall, the bus dematerializing around him as he tumbled through an endless expanse of galaxies and stars. The silence was a gift and he felt himself smile.
Daydreams were an escape he couldn't obtain through sleep, since he physically was not able to do so. Simon was a diagnosed insomniac, and the only way he could rest was through daydreams.
Simon let himself fall and fall, feeling the wind ruffle dark locks of hair. What he wasn't expecting was a not so gentle landing on something hard and metal, knocking the wind out of him. Simon wheezed and sat up, eyes watering as he struggled to breathe. When he had calmed, he lifted himself up from the grate he had landed on and looked around, frowning. This had never happened in his daydreams before, and he didn't recognize the layout.
What was before him seemed to be a boiler room. Simon frowned, looking around in confusion. This was odd, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. He decided that standing around like an idiot wasn't going to help his case, so he began to walk. The soft thuds of his footfalls joined the hiss of the steam billowing through the air from the pipes. His gaze went from the copper piping lining the ceiling to the large boilers that towered over him. He reached out with a trembling hand and touched the nearest boiler, but drew it back when a flash of white hot pain shot through his arm, making him cry out.
At this, he heard a low chuckle, making Simon freeze in place. He listened, straining his ears to pick up any more of the laughter. But none came. A shiver made its way up Simon's back and he let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing on. The sounds of his shoes hitting the metal grating of the floor was deafening, filling his ears to the point where it was the only thing he heard. He found a set of stairs and leaned on the railing as he descended, looking around as he went.
He paused again when he heard the same low rumble of laughter echoing through the large room, eyes widening slightly. He turned his head, looking behind him but saw nothing. Turning back around, Simon moved a little faster down the stairs now, breaking into a jog as he reached the end of the flight. He found himself at something like a crossroads, and Simon's heart pounded furiously against his rib cage. He looked around and began to take a step forward to get a better look. Before he could, however, he felt something push him back against the railing. His back slammed against metal and he heard a crack, his teeth gritting and eyes shutting tightly.
The first thing Simon noticed was an overwhelming smell of smoke wafting in the air around him, almost like cigarette smoke. Next, he felt someone - or something - press up against him, their breath ghosting his cheek. It smelled of smoke as well, and Simon let out a soft whimper of fear, keeping his eyes tightly shut.
"I haven't seen youbefore," Simon heard a low voice mutter, the sound rumbling in the speaker's chest. Simon's breaths picked up and he scrunched up his nose. The person who spoke let out a hum, and Simon jumped when he felt something very sharp press against his stomach, dragging upwards. The person didn't press deep enough to cut, but just so that it hurt. When Simon winced in pain, the speaker chuckled, pausing the ascent of the sharp object. "Open your eyes, Si. Let me see those peepers.."
Simon almost opened his eyes at the use of his nickname, but resisted the urge to look, shaking his head quickly. The sharp object pressed a little harder into Simon's stomach, making Simon gasp in pain. This time, his eyes did open, and what he saw made him cry out in pure terror.
Bright blue eyes stared at Simon, but that's not what drew his attention. The full-body burns were what made Simon tear up and begin to shake, breaths picking up as panic surged through him. This man was horribly burned, scarring and peeling skin covering his face and neck from what Simon could see. The man grinned, revealing crooked teeth, and began to laugh. He lifted his right arm, revealing the sharp object that had been pressed into Simon's stomach.
A glove with blades welded to it gleamed in the firelight, making Simon shake even more. The man tilted his head and raised the gloved hand even higher, as if poised to strike. Simon cringed back, whimpering once more, but froze again when the man lowered the blades, now pressing them underneath Simon's chin. The blades cut into the soft skin of Simon's neck, forcing him to look up as the man put pressure on them, making his chin tilt upwards.
"Aren't you somethin' special," the man hummed, a soft southern accent gracing a deep and rumbling tone. Simon stared at the man, his throat constricting as his chest tightened, anxiety and fear making it harder and harder to breathe. "I've never met a daydreamer before.." The man lifted a blade, brushing it against Simon's cheek right where his mother had just that morning before he left. "What a find, what a find.."
Simon opened and closed his mouth, trying to get words out, but only a squeak managed to escape him. This seemed to amuse the man, because he laughed, digging the blades even more into Simon's chin. "So, Daydreamer," the man said with a grin, moving his face closer to Simon's. "If you can't sleep, how will I make you scream?"
Simon was snapped out of his daydream with a jolt as the bus came to a stop. He blinked a few times and looked around in a panic, gaze landing on Patty, who was staring at him with a worried expression on her face.
"Si, are you alright?" Simon stared at her for a moment before letting out a shaky breath, nodding a little.
"Y-Yeah, I-.. I'm fine.." Patty watched him for a moment before nodding, ruffling Simon's hair as she stood and made her way off the bus. Simon sat very still for a moment, staring at his hands. He was brought out of his thoughts at the feeling of something warm and wet dripping down his neck. He reached up and touched the spot, drawing his hand back quick with a soft gasp as he saw the dark red color of blood staining the skin on his fingers.
