Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm glad you all enjoyed the first chapter. I really appreciate the feedback.

"Would you mind sharing your story with us, Simon?" The man, introuced as Dr. Hannon, asked, as he stared right at Simon. He moved, slightly uncomfortable, in his seat, trying to avoid eyecontact with Dr. Hannon."It's okay if you think it's hard, we'll take it slow."

Group-therapy session. Fifty minutes in, ten minutes to go. He was familiar with all of the other patients sat in the circle with him. He'd studied them all from his corner of the lounge. There was the blonde kid who always rocked back and forth in some sort of worry, and the Indian boy who'd thought he was a bunny rabbit two nights ago. There was also the man in his late 20's, who walked around mumbling to himself. And last but not least, the ketchup-lady. He wasn't sure what had brought her into this place, but he had a strong feeling he'd found out, sooner or later.

Instead of looking at Dr. Hannon, he gazed at the ketchup-lady, taking in every detail of her appearance. She wore the same white blouse, with the ketchup stains on it. In her younger days, she'd probably been a real beauty, with porcelain-looking skin and long, slightly curly hair. There was something tragic about her big blue eyes, a sort of deep that made him both curious and suspicious. Probably a murderer, with voices in her head. He repeats the things he discovers about her, quietly for himself. Blouse. White blouse. Grey trousers. Eyes, ocean blue eyes. Ketchup-stain. Porcelain doll.

"Mister Bellamy?" Dr. Hannon keeps trying to get his attention. It works, as Simon snaps, and stares at him all of sudden. Dr. Hannon gives him a warm smile. "Would you like to tell us your story, Simon?"

Mister Bellamy.

He is seven years old, and his mother is pregnant with his younger sister. Margaret. Her tummy is big, and he can't do more than just stare at him. Stare with wide eyes, trying to understand why babies grow in their mummies's tummies. She's making them chicken sandwiches. It's Simon's favorite. As long as there's slices of tomatoes in it too. He'd give away his whole Indiana Jones collection for a slice of his mummy's chicken sandwich. She's young and beautiful, only twentyeight. She has darker brown, long hair and beautiful chocolate brown eyes. He thinks she looks like a princess. Despite the big tummy. Sometimes he hates it, because she can't play anymore. Sometimes he loves it, because mummy says he'll have a brother or sister soon. Simon doesn't like being alone.

His father steps into the room. He looks serious, and grumpy with the grumpy blue eyes, and a grumpy look on his face. He's dressed in his usual light blue jeans and a black dress shirt. He talks to mummy, sluddering on his words. Daddy hasn't noticed Simon yet, and Simon hopes he doesn't. He gasps as his father grabs the chicken sandwich, and shoots up from his place in the corner, still holding one of his toys.

"That's mine!" He cries out, he'd been looking forward for that sandwich a long time now. Can't mummy make daddy his own sandwich? Daddy just glances down at him, with a laugh, as he shoves it into mouth. Simon hits daddy's leg, lightly but still grumpily. That was Simon's sandwich. Mummy even told him so when she was making it, but she doesn't say anything.

Daddy's eyes harden again, and suddenly he grabs Simon, who is still hitting anything he can with his small fists. Daddy's mad, Simon knows that, because he's cussing too. Simon is scared now, as his daddy carries him over his shoulder, through the house. He's calling Simon names, he doesn't understand them, but he knows it's not good.

Daddy throws him into the shower, and Simon gasps, trying to get loose. There's tears in his eyes.

He's sorry, he's so sorry he hit daddy, but that was his sandwich! Mummy would've made more for Da! He repeats his apologies over and over again, but daddy doesn't listen. The cold water hits his skin like needles, and he lets out a cry, trying to kick his way out. Daddy's grip tightens. His clothes are soaked, and stuck to his cold skin, but the cold water keeps on burning against his skin. Suddenly daddy stops and let's go off him.

Simon sinks to the bottom of the tub, sobbing quietly. Daddy just looks at him, drying his hands off on his jeans.

"Greadyness won't get you anywhere in life, Mister Bellamy. Remember that." Daddy's words echoes in the small bathroom, as he walks out, leaving Simon in the tub, still holding onto his plastic toy.

Mister Bellamy.

"I..." Simon started, heart aching by the flashback. Better to just get it over with. "I tried to burn someone's house down." He said sternly, avoiding eyecontact with anyone in the room.

"But you failed!" The blonde kid cried out, with a wide grin on his face.

"Charlie, it's very rude to say such things in a group-session." Dr. Hannon gave the blonde kid a look, who blushed and stared down at his hands, whispering for himself.

"What did you feel in that moment?"

"Anger." Simon mumbled, focusing on a spot on the wall. Betrayal. Humiliation. Pain. Ache. Longing. Sadness. Loneliness. Forgotten. Used. Before Dr. Hannon is able to ask further questions about Simon's failed pyroman career, the Ketchup-lady got out of her seat.

"If you do excuse me, Dr. Hannon, the clock just hit twelve, and I believe it's time for my lunch." She said, as she slowly walked towards the door.

"Alright. Same time tomorrow!" Dr. Hannon sighed, as everyone flew out of their seats, running past the ketchup-lady.

Simon slowly followed them, closing the door quietly behind him. The rest of the patients he'd just went to group-therapy with were all way ahead, probably all already in the cafeteria. The corridor was almost empty. He didn't see anyone, as he walked towards the cafeteria. He was dressed in his usual clothes, a dark grey dress shirt with all buttons buttoned, and a pair of suitpants. It made him feel a bit more comfortable in being there. But like mentioned, the corridor was almost empty. He could hear voices longer down, but he could yet not see the person, but for some reason he knew exactly who it was.

"Make them go away then! Go on. Please, make them go away." The voice whined loudly. He remembered that voice, that familiar voice. It was the curly-haired guy from the other day.

Simon wanted to know what was wrong, and find out why he was in here. But he was too nervous and scared too. Instead, he quickly pushed the first door he walked past open, and walked faster towards the cafeteria.