Sora awoke with tears streaming down his face. Oh, how he wished he could just sleep forever, and have no memory of the hell that he lived in now. The reason for him being ripped from that dream-world, however, became apparent after a split second. "Goddammit, boy, turn off that fucking music and get your skinny little ass down here!" Wiping his face on a sheet to hide his tears, Sora started the ill-fated trek downstairs.
"Jesus Christ, boy, what the fuck's wrong with you! You leave that damned freak music blaring all day, and it makes your poor mother and I think that the house is coming down on us!"
"I'm sorry sir..." Sora answered meekly. His gaze was glued to his feet. The verbal continued for a while, but was over quickly. Sora suddenly realized what the bruise in that other world was. A premonition of what was going to happen here. His frail body was jetted across the room. Sora didn't even try to get away as his father came near again. He reached out and kicked into Sora's ribs, and he gasped in pain. Again and again his father kicked at him, aiming for various places. The groin, the chest, the ribs, it didn't matter, just as long as Sora was feeling pain. The beating continued for a few minutes, then apparently Sora's father got bored with his son's lack of a fight.
Sora lay on the living room floor, his eyes watering. A single tear fell on the floor, and as he looked at it, his mind went blissfully blank. No more pain, no more of his father yelling at his mother. He couldn't smell the booze coming from the kitchen, or the rotting trash that desperately needed to be taken out. Another tear fell. Sora felt detatched from his body. He was vaguely aware that he was picking himself up off the floor. "I'm going back up to my room..." It hurt like hell to talk.
Up in his room, Sora lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. How much longer do I have to live like this... he wondered to himself. His body aching, and his heart heavy, he drifted off into sleep, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to reach that place in his own mind.
"Momma, come on!" A tiny little boy jogged out in front of his parents. His auburn hair stood up badly, but he didn't mind it much. Eyes like the sky shone crystal-clear from his happy, laughing face. "I'm coming, wait for me," said the woman he'd yelled to. She too was grinning; It was a beautiful day, and she wanted to enjoy it with her son. The boy rolled around in the grass at the park, loving every minute of the warm spring day.
Suddenly, a coughing fit came over him. The little boy's frail body shook with each hack from his lungs. His chest was on fire, he couldn't breathe. "Momm-" The little boy fell over, and didn't move...
