Alienated (open)

[draiton]

10 AM, Tuesday. Dratz had stayed in bed the entire morning letting his dorm mates go off for breakfast and classes but wouldn't go with them. He'd told them he was sick, in truth he was just sick of life in general.
He felt so unearthly down that he couldn't bear the idea of getting up that day. He'd not slept well because of the nightmares and was feeling sickly from not eating.

Everything was just so bleak and grey. Classes could screw themselves- he was no good at them anyway. He'd never get good grades, never get a job, never get anywhere so what was the point in trying?
He slid a hand under his pillow and brought out the pair of scissors he'd kept there and held the stainless steel legs to his wrist. He pressed the flat side of the scissors to his wrist, feeling the bite of the cold and quietly crying to the feeling.
The feeling ended when the scissors warmed up to his body temperature and he put them back under the pillow rubbing his thumb over the cold patch on his wrist.

[quel]

It was one part of the job that Jamie really did not revel in. You always got a few very rebellious students, ones that refused to do anything what so ever. He'd had to do it the year before, and that had not ended well. That student had been looking after Cobalt, the oldest of the free running foals. That student had managed to find a handy cliff and thrown themselves from it. Not a pleasant experience. This was another one of those hard to work with students. They could all be very difficult in their own ways, but most of them actually managed to get up in the mornings. Jamie had read the profile given to Jared when Draiton Ieshitah had first arrived, and it didn't prove to be all that conclusive. The rest of the staff were working flat out with the rest of the students or the horses, he could just leave it be, but it wouldn't be constructive at all.

He looked down at the stray dog that followed people around the yard and stables, or anywhere. It was a mongrel with so many different breeds, Jamie couldn't work out which was the strongest. Probably some sort of collie. It was a perfectly pleasant dog and just padded around after you. He'd named it Syphen for no reason he could fathom. It just seemed right. He brought up a hand and knocked quietly on the room to the dormitory. The names were written in neat handwriting on the door, no-one had ripped it off yet. Draiton's was the third on the list, made it easy to see at eyelevel. No answer, well what had he expected. He contemplated leaving, looking down at Syphen. He decided against it. He didn't have anything very important to do except groom some of the horses that weren't getting looked after at the moment.

He turned the handle of the door, pushing it open with his shoulder. He didn't bother coming all the way in, just leant against the door jam and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Feeling any better?" He asked quietly, looking around the darkened room. Syphen trotted through the door and jumped onto one of the empty beds. Jamie didn't stop the dog, no-one was really going to care.

[draiton]

Dee grimmaced as he heard the knock on the door and pulled the blankets over his head. Just as he had got himself covered when Jamie and the dog entered. He closed his eyes and felt the sweat drool over his body. He nipped his lip and tried to pretend he didn't exist, normally he would have thrown something at the man- but all he had to hand were the scissors or the pillow-- neither of which he wanted to give up; that and he didn't fancy being aggressive anyway.
He sighed to himself and held the blankets to him, laying in the suffocating darkness.
"No, not really." He answered in a blank tone of voice more suitable for a zombie than a fifteen year old boy. He was suprised at himself for sounding like that, but he couldn't put any more effort into speaking than he already had.
He felt drained, he felt dead. Weak and surrendered.
"Going to drag me into class?" He asked with a little more challenge in his voice, anger rose within him and his hand curled around the nipple of the pillow, ready to lob it at the 'intruder'.