The Prince and the Pauper

"Attis!" Cory's voice, the voice of a thousand beatings, echoed throughout the apartment. It was small, only consisting of three bedrooms and one bath, but it seemed to stretch as wide as the universe.

Attis held his breath and crawled deeper into the corner of the bathroom. Underneath the sink counter there was a rectangular space of emptiness where the laundry basket usually went. Attis had pulled it out and replaced it with his body. He had his knees hugged to his chest as tightly as he could keep them in.

"Attis?" Cory was in the bathroom. Attis could hear him. He could visualize him walking inside. He bit his tongue to keep a cry from escaping his lips.

Then came the moment where everything was still. He thought that Cory had left the bathroom and searched elsewhere. He thought wrong. He shifted his foot, thinking he was safe. At the point of time directly after that small sound of a foot against the tile floor, Attis was yanked out from his hiding place.

He cried out in pain for his shoulder was burning with the familiar sting of nails in his flesh.

Cory smashed his fist into Attis's stomach, sending him doubling to the floor. Attis felt tears return to his eyes from before as a heavy blow sent him cowering on his chest. He was continued to be kicked and bashed in the ribs in rhythm to his cries and screams.

Attis screamed a final time before he decided to give up altogether. Why did he scream? It wasn't like anyone would come to his rescue. Layla didn't give a damn about him, she was just like Cory. They all used Attis as their punching bag, and he had no choice but to cope with daily beatings.

"How do you like this?" Cory asked in his devilish voice. He swung his leg back and brought it forward, snapping Attis's head up. He surprisingly didn't let out a scream when he felt his nose start to bleed from a sudden punch.

Cory grabbed Attis by the back of his shirt and shoved him out of the bathroom. Attis yelped as his face collided with the bed frame of his "parent's" bed. He saw stars get knocked into his vision as Cory pounded his back with his foot.

The pain was unbearable. Attis should have been used to this already, but it seemed the pain always returned with more intensity. His body screamed for peace, a white flag, a treaty, anything to stop the returning blows.

"Cory, that's enough!" Layla screamed. Attis looked to see his "mother" grabbing her husband by the forearm. He hateful stare was directed at Attis though. "We can't kill him."

Cory nodded. He gave Attis one more kick before leaving the room with his wife. Attis looked at the door shutting before he fell on his back, clutching his nose. He cried silently, tears falling down the sides of his face and trickling into his ears.

Why did his foster parents do this to him? He was supposed to be their child; someone they cared for. He let out a howl of pain as a sudden wave of intense pain overtook him. Darkness started to pool in his sight.

He couldn't be going blind now, could he? He sobbed, closing his eyes.

How he wished he had an angel to take him away from this pain. He just needed someone to love him - to care for him. He needed someone to protect him.

But sadly, he didn't see anything involving help possible. In his world there was just him and the evil gods: Layla and Cory. There was no good. There was just evil.