d r e a m b o y | t. russell

9: r a y m o n d

Raymond sat down on the mattress, the springs causing him to bounce slightly. He could see Ty contemplating over the situation, he was staring blankly at the bed. Raymond rolled his eyes.

"Idiot, just get in bed. It's not that big of a deal unless you make it one." Raymond scoffed, Ty nodded silently then climbed onto the bed, next to Raymond.

Raymond let out a sigh and shuffled underneath the duvet, turning to his side with his back facing Ty. He could feel the mattress shift as Ty lay down, the blanket tugging slightly on his shoulders as Ty pulled it over himself. The warmth was comforting, and soon enough he could hear Ty's steady breathing fill the room. Raymond flopped over, onto his back, and turned his head to look at Ty. His face was peaceful and relaxed, nothing seemed to disturb him as he slept. Raymond's eyebrows stitched as he looked at his peaceful friend, he felt a sense of guilt and sorrow wash over him. 'If only he could sleep peacefully in reality.' Raymond turned back over again, and let his heavy eyelids drop over his tired eyes.

Raymond woke up, he turned to look over his shoulder, to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. He let out a sigh, and rubbed his eyes. He reluctantly flipped the duvet off of his body, the warmth leaving him immediately, and he trudged to the bathroom. As he had for the past two months, he was met with a sickening reflection in the mirror. His hair was unkempt and his face was haggard. There were eye bags so dark rimming his eyes, that it looked like someone had smeared eyeliner around them. His lips were chapped and pale, and his cheeks appeared more sullen than they should. He sighed. He looked like utter shit, as usual. At least he didn't look this bad in the dream.

Raymond noticed something off about his reflection, though. There were two french-braids along the left side of his head, just above his ear. A small smile tugged at his lips as he ran his fingers over the braids. He got dressed and gave a half-assed attempt to fix his hair, avoiding the braids, of course.

"Raymond? Are you up? Class starts soon." A fatigued voice came from outside his door. A string of mumbled curses escaped Raymond's mouth as he shoved his feet in his shoes and grabbed his bag, along with his phone and keys.

The door to Raymond's dorm swung open, revealing a shorter teen with black hair and blue eyes. Harrison had started checking up on him every morning ever since Ty was hospitalized, and would walk with him to class. Some part of Raymond wished that his friends had the same dreams he did, where they could see Ty, whether she was a boy or not. Raymond found himself lucky to have the dreams, it gave him some sort of motivation, something to look forward to. He had lost all of his motivation ever since the accident two months ago, he no longer cared to blurt out his opinion, yell, scold, or even scowl. He felt empty, the only thing keeping him running was the thought of seeing his best friend alive and well in a dream. 'It's only a dream...' and he knew that he couldn't rely on it forever, because he knew all things would come to an end. Including his friend's life, and if he wanted to admit it or not, it was true. So, he would visit Ty a couple days a week, with a dying hope that she would somehow wake up.

"You ready to go?" Harrison asked, he was fatigued, but didn't look nearly as bad as Raymond did. It affected him worst out of all of his friends. Raymond didn't bother giving an answer, Harrison took this as a 'yes', and would start walking down the hallway.

The small group of friends would meet at the landing at the end of the stairs, every morning. They were nowhere near as talkative as they used to be, but they all had found some way to get over the loss of their friend, with the exception of Raymond. To him, it seemed like his friends had already given up on Ty. And he hated it. Yet, he didn't say anything.

"C'mon, we may be late if we don't leave now." Pip spoke up, the usual cheeriness and excitement was not present.

The four walked down the sidewalk, Matthew and Harrison would exchange a few words here and there, but otherwise they didn't speak much. Raymond would always find himself dwelling in the memories of what had occurred during the dreams. Often times his friends would ask him what he was thinking about, but he never provided an answer.