"ALTAN JAY STORM!"
      He cowered beneath his covers as the booming voice shook the house from the first floor, clutching a teddy close to his chest. Angry stomps approached the door which was violently slammed open. Meral was clutching a half-empty bottle of booze in one hand, and a crumpled report card in the other. He crossed the room to Altan in three large steps, tearing away the blanket.
"What is this?!" He demanded, thrusting out the yellow paper. Alcohol dripped from his words.
There, amidst the various A's, a single D+. English. He had never liked reading. He was never good at writing.
His fathers face twisted in rage, "ANSWER ME!"
Altan jumped as the glass bottle shattered against the wall behind him. He dared not look away. "I-I..." He gulped. "I don't-"
"Pathetic!" His father spat, white hot pain exploding across his face as his fathers hand struck across his cheek. "Disgrace!" Another slap. His father looked over him, spittle flying as he bared his teeth, inches away. "You would dare bring such dishonour on my name? How should I expect to hand over my empire someday to a disappointment such as you, huh? You should be ashamed! After all I have given you! You are a useless failure to me, do you hear? A FAILURE!"
Altan's head fell. "Yes, sir..."
"LOUDER! What are you!?" Fingers forced his jaw up.
"I-I'm.." Tears sprung to his eyes which he frantically blinked away. He trembled as his fathers lips widened over a maniacal grin.
"And now he cries! Take a look everyone, take a look at this weak runt! This nothing who thinks he should be called my son!" He swung his arm wide and Altan flinched expecting another strike.
Then, in horror, Altan glanced past his father to see dozens of people from school crowded behind them in his room. Teachers, enemies, friends. Laughter filled the room.
"Idiot!"
"Nobody!"
"Failure!"
"Hey look, he's crying!"
"Look everybody! Look at the loser cry!"
HAHAHA
Altan chocked back a sob and his father spun on him once more, smile dropping into a cold, seething rage. He grabbed Altan's wrist, wrenching the hand away from his body. There, the diamond-encrusted black onyx ring sat around his finger. A symbol of status. A symbol of belonging. A symbol that his father pinched between two fingers and tore from his hand.
"You don't deserve to wear this. No son of mine," he glowered, speaking low, sincere, "exudes anything less than perfect."
Laughter.
Meral balled his fist around the ring, raising his hand into the air. He reeled back. Altan ran. He ducked under the flying fist, pushed through the crowd of twisted, jeering faces, stumbled into the hall. Except the hall, it was not his. It was white, small, and extended for seemingly ever. Plain, chalk-white doors lined the walls. The laughter grew behind him, and he quickly pushed into the first door.
        Inside cool air blasted into his face, and cheers erupted across a domed stadium. He was in hockey gear. His team was playing in the background. He took a tentative step forward and suddenly found himself bumping into the chest of his coach.
        "Coach! I-"
        "Sorry, champ." Coach Baz shrugged, "We got a new captain, now. No room for runts on the team."
         Altan looked past him. The teams on the ice had stopped skating. The fans in the stands had stopped cheering. All eyes were on him. Boos erupted, they echoed off the walls, they rung on his ears, and as they rose in volume, they morphed into laughter. Hideous laughter. Altan spun and ran, slamming the door behind him.
        He shot down the hall, opened another door that had booming music escaping from behind it. Inside was a party, LED lights twisting the dancing masses into a pulsing, shifting wave. Ian stood at the centre of it, May hanging from his side, drunk, giggling.
        "Get lost," Ian sniffed, "no room for losers."
         The door slammed in his face. Laughter.
        Altan ran, he ran for a long time past endless doors, until finally he couldn't run anymore. Tears soaked his face. He tasted iron on his tongue. He breath came out in ragged gasps. He opened the door to his left.
           He was in the sewers, then. His back was pressed to damp stone. His head throbbed.
          "You are worthless to me." Knuckles cracked into Altan's jaw. Golden eyes bore into his soul. "Do you truthfully believe I am not capable of finding somebody else? Or finish it on my own? You are only here because it was convenient for me."
         "STOP! GET AWAY!" Altan screamed, pleaded, as he pushed The Prince off of him.
The Prince laughed as he retreated, the haunting echoes chasing him as he skidded around a corner. His foot caught on the floor and he fell, sewage splashing up into his face. As he wiped the tears and grime from his eyes, he looked up to find he was on his kitchen floor. His mom sat at the counter, sipping wine, reading a magazine.
         "Mom..." he sobbed, crawling forward. "Mom please help me." He clutched at her leg. "Please, you're the only one.. the only one who I can trust."
         "Oh, Altan, sweetie." She cooed, setting down her wine. She extended a hand, helping the trembling Altan to his feet. Gently holding his hand, she leaned forward, chuckling. Laughter, sourceless, floated into the room. "You didn't really think I loved you, did yo-"
         A roar shook the room. Her glass rattled. A chair fell. Altan stumbled back, and both he and his mother stared in disbelief out the expansive kitchen window. Ozir, The Eternal, stood tall outside. Sunlight bounced off her prismatic scales brilliantly. Her shining lilac eyes bore into him through the window pane. Her tail swished quickly. Though her mouth did not move, a familiar voice filled his mind, drowning out the laughter.
        "Shut him out!"
        Him? Altan thought, turning back towards his mother briefly. She wasn't laughing now. Her face was frozen in a visage of rage, and two glowing ruby eyes stayed locked onto Ozir outside. No, not two two. Four. Altan pulled back his hand quickly.
        Ozir roared ferociously once again, rearing up onto her hind legs, looking down her snout at the creature that sat opposite him. Prisms of light shone between her claws.
        As she surged downwards, the dream shattered.