Living Grief - Ray x Norman

𝙸. 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜

Ray POV

I could hear all the kids in the dining hall, bidding Norman goodbye. Was it 'goodbye', or was it 'See you soon.'? I'm certain it's 'Goodbye'. I stood on the staircase, I plastered a look of anger on my face to hide the pain that my best friend, the only person who had ever understood me, ever tried to understand me, was going to die in a matter of minutes.

I heard the conversation from the staircase. Mom had asked Emma where I was.
'He's in the infirmary, he didn't want to say goodbye...'
I could hear the shaking in Emma's voice as she said that. She, too, was sad. So why was I out here, sulking like a kid who's not allowed candy? Even I couldn't understand. Was it the fact that Norman hadn't even tried to escape? That he let us, no, me down? I was upset with him, I truly was, but was I going to let my best friend leave me forever without saying goodbye?

There's still time, Ray. You can distract Mom, let Norman run.

Who am I kidding? He's not going to run. As much as he hates mom, along with me and Emma, somewhere in his heart he does still love her, and thank her for giving him happiness while he could have it. I watched everyone come out from the dining hall to the front doors. Norman turned his head and looked at me. I gave him a cold stare, but he smiled. He smiled. How can he smile, knowing he's pretty much on his death bed right now? Am I just weak? Is he stronger than me?

Yeah, he is. He can control his emotions. He can keep them in check. I can't. So I rely on him to help me. Because no one else understands. They don't even try understand. I watched as Norman and Mom walked out and to the gate. I walked up to the bedroom.

Sitting on my bed, my head in my hands. I could feel tears coming down my face. But, I couldn't cry. I'm weak enough without Norman by my side anymore. I don't need to be any weaker. So I wiped my tears and went downstairs to grab some coffee. I looked at Normans old bed, remembering all the fun sleepovers me, Emma and him would have as kids, just lying in his bed. Emma would always fall asleep first which left me and Norman to talk. We were young back then, so we wouldn't have talked about things we would now. After we got tired of talking, we'd get up and walk around the house to find a clock. And we'd take it apart and put it back together. Mom would always scold us when we did that, but it didn't matter to us as kids.

By now I was in the kitchen, staring at a clock. I could see my reflection in the glass covering the face. I looked horrible. I turned my head away and wished that I could hide behind something. I was never able to hide behind Emma and Norman, I was taller than both of them. Though Norman and I would argue a lot over it. I am taller, by 5 centimetres, but Norman always gets salty when I say that because apparently '5 centimetres is nothing'. My god, just thinking about all our bickering is making my throat swell up. I couldn't get Norman out of my head. I heard the door open.

Mom was back. Which meant that Norman was gone. Any piece of my heart that had remained together after Mom told us about Norman's shipment shattered. I poured the now boiled water into my cup and watched as it turned dark brown. I stirred it with a tea spoon as my throat swelled up even more and tears started to prick at my eyes. Damn, I didn't even say goodbye. The familiar feeling of guilt washed over me. I looked down at my coffee and picked up the cup by the handle. At this point, I was more focused on not crying that I drank the steaming hot liquid in one go, burning my throat, my tongue and my mouth. With the burning in my mouth I accidentally dropped the cup and it smashed on the ground.

I heard Mom's footsteps get nearer and nearer as I tried to stop the burning in my mouth. My Mom walked in and looked me and then the cup. She must have guessed I drank it all too quickly.