“Hi! My name is Raymond….no no…that is not right…” the nervous voice mumbled aloud to an empty room. The sound of a throat being cleared was heard next followed by what felt like the hundredth attempt. “Hey there, bro. The name is Raymond though my homies call me Ray or Alex…or Marc…” a hushed word of frustration and an exasperated breath later left the young man to glare at his form in the mirror. “This has to work. This will work. I will get better and I will be free.”<br/><br/>“RAYMOND? TIME TO COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST!” the familiar and grating voice of his mother broke his pep talk to himself.<br/><br/>“COMING!”<br/><br/>Another deep breath, the glasses retrieved from breast pocket of his pinstripe button down and Raymond once again meticulously combed his hair. The black locks, though already in the most perfect of places, were treated to the touch of his comb. Once to the side, two down toward his back and repeated twice to ensure each hair was in place. Mother always said to stick to a routine. Routines made the world go round. Kept people focused and safe. Calm and safe, that is what a routine meant for him and those he cared about. Time and time again, Raymond had been reminded of what happened when he got upset. Disappearing into the floor to fall forever to the core of the earth and get stuck there until he died being one of the most hazardous of problems. Then there was his mother’s favorite about how Raymond could hug someone and end up inside of them. Killing the both of them. How colorful his childhood was and as an adult he knew his mother meant well, but it did not stop him from feeling a bit stifled by them both.<br/><br/>Down the stairs, care taken to make sure that each step was taken. Safety first, as mother would say. “Good morning,” the greeting gave to both parents, though his father appeared to be his usual unresponsive self while he vigorously read the paper. At the table, Raymond took his seat and spent the next few moments properly getting ready for his meal. Napkin placed into his lap, utensils checked for dirt and or grim before being set in optimum position for him to eat. Glass of water filled but not too much that he would be tempted to fill up on it rather than eating the delicious meal his mother had prepared. “Smells good.”<br/><br/>“Egg whites, with lightly toasted wheat bread, no butter of course and some orange juice just slightly watered down to remove a bit of that acidic kick. You know, you’re favorite.” The cheery and motherly tone of his mother brought a smile to his face, even if the rather bland and boring meal did not. In silence they ate until his phone went off.<br/><br/>“No phones at the table, Raymond. You know the rules.” His father said without looking up from his paper.<br/><br/>“Yes, but you know we are waiting on that email, it could be that?”<br/><br/>The look from his wife caused the man from behind the paper to sigh, “Fine, but make it quick we are trying to spend time here as a family.” Another sigh as he continued to read the paper in silence.<br/><br/>A few taps on his phone and Raymond had the email open. The words practically leapt off the screen as he drank them in with pure excitement and happiness. “I’m in!” up from his seat he jumped. “I’M IN!” voice now a cry of war and victory that for the first time in his life he would have a chance to be free.<br/><br/>“Ray…Raymond….” The familiar voice of his mother cut through the joy he felt. Which was just in time, as he was only a torso sticking out from the dining room floor.<br/><br/>“Well, crap.”<br/><br/>“RAYMOND! LANGUAGE!”<br/><br/>“Sorry mother.” Phone still in hand, he would have to wait until tomorrow morning, but he was going to be free. Finally free.