The Prince and the Pauper

Just as Lyle was about to get into his Hummer, he saw him. Again. Lyle tapped Donnie’s shoulder, pointing the boy out to him.

“Really, Donnie, he looks so much like me. It’s possible it’s not just a coincidence,” Lyle tried to reason with him, begging silently for Donnie to approach the double with him.

Donnie turned to stare at the boy. His nerves went on a rampage in his stomach, crippling him with an unwanted, chilling presence. This wasn’t his first time seeing the other boy, how come he hadn’t noticed before?

“L-Lyle?” Donnie stuttered.

Lyle didn’t look at his friend, he watched the way the once flirtatious boy had become more controlling. He could tell something was wrong when the boy snatched the paper bag from his ‘double’s’ hands.

“Yeah, Donnie?” Lyle asked, waiting for his best friend to spit out whatever he had to say.

Donnie hesitated, wishing he hadn’t a moment later when both of the boys were in the car and he realized: That boy could become a victim too.

“You remember that guy I told you about last night?”

Lyle’s eyes instantly flared up, a look of hatred and intensity in them.

“Yeah, but you couldn’t mean the boy who could possibly be my twin is the one that hurt you…” Lyle trailed off. He knew his look-alike was all too nice to ever do something like that to another person. He could tell-even if he hadn’t talked to him before, body language says a lot.

“No, no. Not him. The other guy,” Donnie corrected his best friend.

Lyle had felt it deep inside, that the boy wasn’t as friendly as he appeared. But he didn’t think the stranger was as bad as he was. Lyle just knew… He wanted to kill him.

They chased after the car, desperately trying to get him to stop, but of course he didn’t. That was okay with Lyle. It’s not like he didn’t have a car to follow him with.

` ` `

Lyle and Donnie hopped in the Hummer, their heart rates racing each other. Lyle didn’t like violence, but he couldn’t let Leslie get away with hurting his best friend so badly. What he might do to him when he got to face Leslie, Lyle didn’t know. But he had Donnie to make sure he didn’t go barbarous.

“Lyle, please don’t kill him,” Donnie said as they followed the car the boys had gotten into.

Lyle snickered.

“After what he did to you?” Lyle asked sadly. Donnie must not have understood that what went on last night had been painful for Lyle to hear. No one wants to hear their friend crying their heart out after being molested.

“I won’t,” Lyle promised.

He meant it. As much as he hated the guy already, he couldn’t kill someone.

The longer they followed the car, the weirder it got. They eventually pulled into a neighborhood that held some small houses- barely worthy of being referred to as a house.

“Wow,” Lyle and Donnie said at the same time, smiling at each other.

When the car stopped in the driveway of one… house, Lyle slowed down and parked along the curb further away. It almost pained him to know that the guy was so clueless. A big Hummer had followed him all the way to his house, and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Look!” Donnie said, just as Lyle's look-alike stumbled out of the car and tried to run away, only to be caught by the potential abusive kidnapping rapist.

It turned Lyle's stomach inside out with disgust. He wasn’t going to let that guy hurt his friend anymore.

“Remember kid, running with knives is never a good thing,” Donnie blurted.

Lyle didn’t know what the hell Donnie was talking about but smiled and said, “Don’t go all symbolic on me. The only thing I can get from that is ‘use a knife’, which you’re obviously not suggesting.”

“But that is an option,” he shrugged.

Lyle laughed and got out of the car. He knew the reason Donnie would have wanted him to use a weapon. Simply because he was so overpowered last night, he was afraid of something bad happening to Lyle. But the way Lyle saw it, it was one against three.

They went up to the door and decided to be civilized about it, ringing the doorbell once. Why start trouble? If anything violent were to happen, Lyle and Donnie didn’t want to be the ones to start it.

After waiting patiently for two minutes, Donnie rang it again.

No answer.

Then a nauseating sound erupted from the other side of the door, and then another. Donnie and Lyle looked at each other. It sounded like someone was crying for help, right before being smacked really hard.

Lyle checked to see if the door was unlocked, it was. That was like an invitation for him to come in. He didn’t feel like he needed an invitation to stop someone from abusing another person.

There was another cry from a room. They followed it, leading them to a bedroom. The door was cracked, so getting in wouldn’t be a problem.

Donnie did the honors of making a big entrance, which Lyle loved him for. He kicked the door open like he’d seen a man do on TV once when catching his wife with another man. Lyle laughed on the inside; knowing Donnie had no intentions of getting involved with any fighting.

Two heads turned in their direction, both thoroughly pumped with horror.

Donnie and Lyle took in the scene, what was happening before they burst in the door. From what they could tell, the guy was kicking Lyle's double, who was hugging himself with tears in his eyes.

“Who are you? Get the fuck out!” He shouted.

Lyle shook his head, not being able to remove his eyes from his possible twin. It stung his heart to see him on the floor like that. As if he was nothing but dirt, but he had so much more to offer. Lyle finally took his eyes off of the boy and looked at the other.

“We don’t want to start any trouble. We only wanted to make sure things were… okay,” Lyle said, disgust visible in his tone.

The guy bolted for Lyle, who was tackled to the ground without warning. Donnie stared in shock, though he knew he should be doing something to help.

But Lyle seemed to have it under control. He turned the tables instantly, now being on top of the boy, straddling him. He didn’t want to hurt the guy, for Donnie’s sake, but he couldn’t help himself. He punched the boy. Then again. And again. And even once more.

And then, as he was about to one more time, he stopped himself. The guy was already bleeding. There was no way he was going to try to fight back after that last punch.

Lyle got off of him, somewhat ashamed of himself. Donnie was happy with him though, even if it didn’t show through his terrified look.

“What’s your name?” Lyle asked his look-alike, panting from the fight.

The kid sat up, staring at his abuser, who was busy holding his nose and groaning.

“Ask questions later,” Donnie said. “Let’s get out of here.”