Sometimes the best way of telling the truth is to lie.
Aline Blake has now survived her first year at Mystic. A year of trials so hard that it's still unimaginable. She has both lost and found friends, while also struggling with the personal problem...
This time the vision was back to the new variety. Simon had been lucky with the former, but he knew the difference between the different varieties. This was definitely one he could be spotted in. And it scared him. He was lying in a bed. The lights were off, it must be very late. Simon heard steps out in the corridor, steps that were heading towards him. He reached for the switch to turn on the lamp, but there was no such thing there. Only now did he notice the extinguished candle on the purple round table next to the bed. A lone lighter and its associated box lay next to it. Simon took both the match and the candle in his hand. As he stood up, what looked like a lucia linen fell over his body. All he could see in front of him were the protruding toes. Simon drew the match towards the long side of the box. The flame that formed lit up the darkness and gave Simon the courage to take a few steps towards the door. The steps had stopped, but Simon wasn't fooled by that. Its owner was still out there. With the candle in his hand, Simon stared at the door. "You can come forward, whoever you are." His voice was brighter than he remembered it, and he thought whatever it was he was wearing hung way too much over his shoulders. A pawing sound was heard and the creaking door was gently opened. The little girl from the first time he spent time in this new kind of vision stared at him. The teddy bear was as if glued to her hand. "Nico?" she asked. Simon didn't know what to do. Nico? Who was Nico? He bent down towards the girl who was now standing in front of him. "Who is Nico?" he wondered. The girl looked at him uncomprehendingly. She pointed at him. "Nico," she repeated. Simon stood up again, slowly shaking his head. What was it really about? "What are you doing here anyway?" What am I doing here? "Can't sleep," answered the girl. "Skyla can't sleep." Simon laughed. He had forgotten how cute it was when toddlers talked about themselves in the third person. Skyla's hair formed blonde curls that reached her shoulders. Simon decided to ignore all the unanswered questions he had and instead do something about the girl. He went over to the bed again, put the lighted candle on the table. He sat down, the mattress sinking down so that it was about half as thick as before. He looked at Skyla as he motioned for her to come over to him. She obeyed him, trusted him. Simon hurried to make room for the little girl. She crawled up next to him, curled up into a little ball. Simon reached to extinguish the candle but then the girl became hysterical. "Candle lit!" she commanded. "Otherwise Skyla awake." Simon settled back into bed, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep.
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