(http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y4/willsie/Desperation_by_Suishuyiku.jpg)<br/><br/>Altheras sat at the back of the prison bus, a vacant expression on his thin features. He seemed to have little care for where he was or even where he was going. Though internally he was suffering a great deal of nerves and turmoil, he did not let it show. He doubted that the guards or other inmates would be any worse to him than his father had been, and his trim body was nearly covered in scars.<br/><br/>He had grown up poor in a mobile home. He had grown used to the label 'white trash' growing up. His mother had died in child birth and his father had blamed him for her death. As such he had taken out his aggression on the boy repeatedly, and as he got older, the sadistic man had started using his son for his own pleasure. Telling him that he was the reason he couldn't find a woman or get laid, so he was just going to have to man up and give daddy what he needed.<br/><br/>He hated school, because he had been picked on for being small and reclusive, but even though he hated it, he dreaded going home every day. His father often made him go without food, and he beat him savagely, raping him almost every night. The abuse and neglect at home had led to abysmal grades, which had led to him failing so much that he was two years behind his peers. His father's abuse had only increased when he had a bad grade, and every report card he brought home meant an especially violent night for the poor boy.<br/><br/>He had hidden the abuse well enough at school, simply staying quiet and keeping to himself. He had been too afraid of his father to go to the authorities, and not long after he turned nineteen, he had simply run away from home. For the last seven years he had simply lived on the streets, feeding himself by stealing and selling his body to other men. He had never been with a woman before and his father had taught him to please men, so he had simply embraced and accepted his own homosexuality.<br/><br/>For the most part, Altheras had stayed clear of drugs, though he did dabble in them from time to time, suffering a brief period of cocaine addiction, which he had forcefully weaned himself off of. The murder of a drug dealer was what had put him here, but whether or not he did it and the circumstances surrounding it, he had revealed to no one. Even at his trial he had remained silent, simply allowing the conviction to pass unchallenged.<br/><br/>When the bus came to a stop, he climbed out, squinting into the bright light, his pale eyes hurting from the sudden change in lighting. He easily followed the orders he was given, going inside with the others and stripping off naked as if it meant nothing. Though one would think he would not want to be seen naked as his body was completely covered in many harsh scars that told tale of his abuse.<br/><br/>He didn't even flinch when the fingers were harshly shoved into his body, not even the slightest sound escaping his lips, nor even a change of expression coming over his vacant features. When he was led away and sprayed down with the freezing water, he simply endured it, not shivering, and still his expression unchanging. It was almost as though he was lifeless on the outside, though on the inside he screamed, cried, and whimpered at the thought of being someones bitch for the rest of his life. He had ran away from home just to escape that, but now he was likely to end up right back in the same situation with a different man.