You couldn't tell by looking at him, but Simon is actually extremely troubled. It is his Senior year, and he's still bullied, he gets the second-best grades in class on purpose, and he doesn't get much sleep. But, he is very determined, and almost none of these cause him much discomfort, it's why he doesn't get much sleep that is the problem.
He is truly the definition of average, his black hair is less than shoulder length, he has no need for glasses, and he has no musical talent. He isn't super athletic, nor is he out of shape. But he could draw anything, and make it look like it's there.
His dreams are plagued by a beautiful girl, her hair the color of fire, and her eyes a sharp green. He had never seen her in person, except the sketches that he had done. But, she was always crying in the dark, and he was unable to help her.
Simon sat on the edge of the roof, staring at the page of his notebook, his hair got in his eyes, but he didn't care. He had drawn the girl of his dreams again, without even realizing it. Somehow, he had lost track of time in Art class, and drew a full body image of her this time.
She was wearing a dress, but because he had drawn it in black and white, he didn't know what color it was. He traced the image with his fingers, blurring the lines. He closed his eyes and wished she would be real.
A whooshing noise behind him told him there was someone there, probably Craig, the bully he had the unfortunate coincidence of pissing off each day. He nearly fell of of the roof when he looked over his shoulder. "Ailana.” There she was,standing in the same pose he had drawn her in, wearing a red sun-dress. She looked slightly shocked as she looked around. When she saw him her eyes grew wide, but she didn't saw a word.
“It is you, Ailana,” he said, standing and hugging her, to which she seemed even more shocked.
“Wait, where am I,” she asked, and his grip loosened.
“You're real, right,” he asked her, and she nodded. “Then you're here with me, Simon.”
“My family,” she said.
She covered her face, and started crying. Simon became sad, but he didn't know how or why she was here. Lightning struck in the distance as clouds started to appear.
“Come on, we should get inside,” Simon said, grabbing her arm.
“What is this, why am I here,” she asked, tears still flowing.
“We'll sort it out later, just come with me, school's over, so we can go back to my house,” he said, pulling the door open.
They walked through the halls, Simon stopped holding her arm, which broke the rules. She followed him because she believed he was the only one who knew how and why she had gotten here. They walked right past Craig, who was too busy tormenting someone else to notice them.
Simon led her out of the front door, down the steps, and off down third street, and then down the alley he took home. He climbed the latticework up to his window, and then held his arm out, she had trouble climbing in the dress, and it ripped up the side.
She just stood there, mainly in her underwear. "Hold on," Simon said, and ran into his step-sister's room, and grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from her dresser.
He handed them to her, to which she pulled the dress off right in front of him, and slipped them on. He hadn't even had time to turn, her stomach and back were covered in bruises. She sat on his bed, and looked around. Simon had several posters on his wall, some of video games, others of bands.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“I don't know how it happened,” he told her. “I just know I was thinking about you, and then here you were.”
“I've never seen you in my life,” she said, glaring. “How do you know who I am?”
“I dream, about you, Ailana,” he said, sitting. “I try to draw you happy, but I've only ever seen you crying. Today I drew you when you weren't sad.”
“Do you know why I'm always sad?” She asked, he eyes focused on the floor.
“Because of the abuse,” he said, the bruises gave it away.
“I was crying tears of joy,” she said, lying down on her side. “The car was about to be in a wreck.”
“You mean, they're dead?”
“Hopefully,” she said, and she started sobbing.
He sat next to the bed, and drew something, hoping that he hadn't fallen off of the roof in a gust of wind. He traced the lines he had made, and there was a teddy-bear, and a box of chocolates int front of her on the nightstand.
“It worked,” he said, sighing. “Ailana,” he said, and showed her the chocolates.
She smiled, the first time he had ever seen her do that. She took them, and sat up, her eyes were a beautiful green, which, he found, accentuated her red hair.
“How old are you,” she asked, between eating the chocolates, savoring each bite.
“Seventeen,” he said, looking down at the red spot on his arm. “Almost out of school. What about you, I've never seen you happy..”
“This is the happiest I've ever been,” she said, holding the last chocolate in her mouth. “Oh, my, that was amazing.”
“I can see if I could make more.”
“No,” she said, stopping his hand. “How about forgetting how I got here, and you show me where I can get clean.”
He took her out into the hallway, his sister would be off with her boyfriend, and his mom and step-dad wouldn't be back until after six. He led her to the end of the hall, and into the bathroom. He grabbed a towel out of the cabinet, and put it on the towel rack.
“Just take your time, you have plenty,” he said, putting the water on warm.
He turned just in time to see her completely undressed. He tried to turn his head and close his eyes, but she grabbed his chin, and pressed her cheek to his. She smelled of tobacco smoke, and some sort of deodorant. She kept her face there a moment.
“No malice,” she said, smelling him. “Thank you, Simon.”
He exhaled a large breath, and put his arms around her. Her warm skin was shivering under his. “Get cleaned up, we'll find a way for you to live here.”
He helped her into the tub, and closed the curtain. He walked out into the hallway, and pinched himself. He was still awake, so he headed into his room, and grabbed the art book. He quickly drew a dress, and traced the line with his finger, blurring the lines. Sitting on the bed was a copy of the dress, this time a blue-silver fabric.
He decided to test this new ability, and grabbed one of his sister's catalogs, and began tracing some of the clothing items inside. None of them came into reality, even when he focused on it. He thought back, and came to the conclusion that it had to be drawn by his own hand.

Almost an hour later, at Five O'clock, she walked back into the room, which had drastically changed. There was now a dresser, filled with clothes her size, and on the chair was a wonderful blue-silver dress. Simon, however, was asleep on the bed, and looked peaceful. She closed the door, and locked it.
She was confused, and didn't understand his gift, but was glad to be away from those monsters. She pulled the dress on, and tossed the towel on the chair. And got on the bed, lying on her side behind Simon. She fell asleep in calm, smiling for once in her life.

Simon jerked awake at the sound of the front door opening and closing. There was an arm around him, holding him tightly, and a warm wet spot on his pillow. He heard two sets of footsteps coming up the steps, so it could be his mom and step-dad, or step-sister and her boyfriend.
This would look bad to either, so he got up slowly, leaving Ailana on the bed by herself, and shoved the dresser into his closet. He tossed the towel into his hamper, and had everything almost perfect.
“Simon,” his sister called, and he was slightly shocked. “Come here, now.”
He unlocked his door, and slid out into the hallway. Erin was in the bathroom, glaring at him, and gesturing for him to get there now. When he stepped into the bathroom, she pointed to the trashcan, where Ailana had balled up her underwear. He scoffed as he saw them.
“Why the hell would you want me to see your undies,” He said, leaving the room.
“I don't wear granny panties,” She said, her blond pony-tail wagging. “And my tits certainly aren't that big.”
“Sorry mom got you the wrong size,” he said, and went back into the hallway. Erin's boyfriend opened the door to his room as he turned. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Hun, come look at the fine piece your brother's nailing,” Chuck said, pointing at Ailana.
“Oh,” she said, rushing past Simon to get a peek. “My god Simian, she's so freakin' hot.”
“Huh,” Ailana started moving, but fell back asleep.
“Listen to me,” Simon said, wrestling the door handle from Chuck. “She is not my girlfriend, I only met her today, I kind of saved her from a car wreck.”
“And the hero gets the girl, nice,” Chuck said, bobbing his head.
“No, I'm trying to help her,” He said, bowing his head. “She's a victim of abuse, if I can hide her here for a while, I can give her a better life.”
“Listen, kid,” Chuck said, solemnly. “If you would have told me that, I wouldn't have laughed. It wasn't that long ago...”
He lifted his shirt, and Simon saw several horrible scars, made by a knife. “It was my dad.”
“Oh, baby,” Erin said, wrapping her arms around him. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“It's not something you advertize,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I know someone that can help her, if she wants it.”
“I'm not sure,” Simon said. “We didn't actually meet traditionally.”
“What happened,” Chuck asked, Simon seemed reluctant to tell him. “Listen, if you want to help her, we have to know.”
“Fine, I'll show you, but you have to promise not to tell, anyone.”


Chapter Two.

Simon sat at the kitchen table, eating some corn dogs, with his art book and pencils right next to his plate. He finished off one of them, and then he turned to Erin and Chuck. “What do you want?”
“For you to tell us how you met.”
“No, I mean an object, something we don't have in the house,” he said, holding his pencil at the ready.
“Well,” Chuck said. “I'd love to have a broadsword.”
Simon set to work, and drew a sword, a beautiful sword with a gold inlay, a silver guard, and a gem in the pommel. He traced the outline with his finger, but, when he opened his eyes, it wasn't in the room.
“Um, close your eyes,” he said, and they did, he traced the lines again, and this time, it worked, the sword appeared on the counter in front of him. “There you go.”
Chuck's eyes grew wide as he saw the adornment of the counter, Erin was speechless. He smiled as they stared at his little gift. “I'm not sure how it works, I don't know if these other things are actually real, like she is.”
“Do you even know where she is from,” Erin asked. “She could be some sort of murderer.”
“I have seen her for over a year, in my dreams, more like nightmares,” Simon said, lowering his eyes to his notebook. “But she's only ever crying, and it's given me hell sleeping. But today, the first time I used this gift, she came to me, and I knew that it couldn't be a coincidence. I have a gift, and she appreciates me saving her, I have shown you, so please, try your best to help us.”
“I will call her right away.”
Chuck pulled out his cell phone, and walked out of the room. Upstairs, Simon could Ailana yelling something, but he didn't know what she was saying. He left his notebook and the sword lying on the counter as he and Erin ran to her.
Simon opened the door to find her thrashing about, somehow still asleep, on his bed. He rushed in to grab her and wake her up and his face collided with the back of her hand. That didn't stop him, and he grabbed her shoulders, and slid his arms down, subduing her. Soon, her sleeping eyes started tearing up, and then they slowly opened.
She stared at him for a moment, and then pain shot across her face. Simon let go, and let he sit up by herself. Her gaze focused on Erin as soon as she knew she was in the room. Simon couldn't see the near feral look on her face, but Erin knew it was time to get out of the room.
“Who is she,” Ailana asked, pointing at the door.
“She's my step-sister, Erin,” he said. “We're trying to help you out.”
“I don't need her help,” Ailana said, crossing her arms,. “I only need you.”
“I doubt we can keep this just between us,” Simon said, getting up to close the door. “They sneaked in, because you left your underwear in the trash.”
“I'm never wearing those, ever again,” She exclaimed, lowering her head. “If you knew-”
“Then tell me,” He said, touching her chin, and lifting her head. “It will make you feel better.”
“Oh, Simon,” she said, starting to cry, and then wrapping her arms around him.

Impressum

Texte: Story written by Robert Wayne Ringwald II, no copying without the writer's express permission. Picture: K. Thompson, used with her permission.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 15.08.2011

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Widmung:
To my friends who have drifted apart.