'I feel like I'm freezing inside...This can't be real...I've never done anything wrong. I'm afraid, I feel like throwing up, and there's nowhere to go.'
Ryou looked around the small eight square foot cell. A bunk on one wall, a sink, and a horribly dirty and most likely un-serviced toilet adorned one wall, and it's adjacent. Up in the corner was a small television. A small window into the rest of the world.
The walk to that small cell was horrible to say the least. Body cavity searches, the whooping of every inmate between there and the front...Inmate clothes thrown at him, pictures and fingerprinting. It was true...before you even hit a cell; you're stripped of your pride as a human being.
Orange was not his color; well to be more precise, orange should never be worn. Ever. The prison guard staff had assigned him an empty cell. Though, the whooping still continued.
"Come here you pretty little thing, let's put that sweet ass of yours to work."
"Mm mm mm, I bet you could suck me off good!"
"Little whore, come see me sometime."
Ryou shivered and huddled back in his cell. "Leave me alone!" He shouted out to the laughing inmates. "I didn't do anything! I'm not supposed to be here!"
"Heh heh, we all say that kid." They laughed back. Ryou shrank back, hiding pathetically behind the beds. The whooping and sexual assault continued, and all Ryou wanted was to go home.
"I like your sweet ass kid, I'm coming for you!"
"Better not sleep at night..."
"I'm going to fuck you blind!"
/\/\/\/\/\
Recreation time came, and all the cells were opened in Ryou's sector, and the inmates were all ushered outside to participate in games of basketball, jump rope weight lifting, or just talking. The inmates all appreciated the time out of cell, but fights still broke out. Ryou hurried to a set of bleachers and sat down, out of sight, and hopefully out of mind. He watched the other inmates carefully.
It was easy to tell the inmate gang groups right away, they would work out together, talk together, and rough up on anyone from the other gangs.
Ryou gasped when he was grabbed and pulled tightly into the lap of a VERY intimidating man. "Hey there sweet ass, remember me? Why ya sittin' so lonely-like? Why don't ya come on with me? I could fuck ya all day, make ya scream like the lil bitch ya are." Ryou squirmed to get away. "I am not lonely! Let go of me!" He pulled out of the man's arms and quickly made an escape.
/\/\/\/\/\
Ryou sniffled softly, glad to be back in his small cell, somehow feeling safer in it. He curled up in the small bunk thinking bitterly about how it seemed insane to be glad to be in a cell, tears still dribbling down his cheeks and disappearing into the fabric of his pillow.
He looked up at the small diary and shook his head. Even now he desired to crawl back into the arms of his friends; even Bakura at this point was a welcomed source of comfort.
Ryou frowned shaking his head, Bakura? Ha! The very one who put him in this hell was welcomed as sanctuary...he was truly alone wasn't he?
Biting his lip, Ryou looked out the barred window at the fading sunlight. Night would be falling soon, and he'd face his first night in prison. He could feel the gazes of the other inmates...hungry, picking the innocence from him bit by bit, undressing and fucking him with their eyes. He shuddered and pulled the blanket over himself.
Ryou shivered softly, not liking the feeling of ice up his back when he heard the soft murmur of what the others planned to do.
Pluck him up, take that soft innocent boyish body, and mold it into a mindless sex puppet, pass it around as a gang prize, moaning, and sweaty, blissful rape.
"Stop it! Please!" Ryou sobbed softly, his fear heightening his sense of hearing, and his terror.
The eyes all seemed to smirk at him, they were everywhere! Ryou huddled under the blanket trying to remember the soft plush carpet under his toes, the robin's egg colored walls of his home. The soft bed he slept in, the scent of home, the sounds of home.
Yugi, Joey, Otogi, anything to hide from the eyes of those other inmates, the sounds they made...
/\/\/\/\/\
Yugi sighed softly, shaking his head. "Yami...Ryou...I just know it wasn't him." He mumbled softly. "We can't leave him there, we just can't." Yami nodded as Yugi dressed for bed. "I know aibou, but for now all we can do is leave him to the authorities, until we can find a way to prove him innocent..."
Yugi frowned, tugging down his pajama top. "Yami he was terrified! You can't possibly tell me you didn't see the look in his eyes, the fear, the humiliation...the hurt."
Yami winced visibly remembering the look in Ryou's eyes. They bore a deep sorrow, fear-laden and empty. He seemed to pull the strings of his very soul when he'd looked at him. Yami hadn't been able to look Ryou in the eyes when he gazed like that.
It hurt his soul in a way he'd not thought someone other than Yugi could accomplish. His aibou was the world, but Ryou had pulled the very strings of his soul into a chasm of lost hopelessness.
Yami shook his head, forcing the image from his mind. "Yugi, I know you want to help, but the lawmen of this time believe Ryou to be their culprit, and until Bakura takes responsibility for his actions, Ryou will always take the blame. I can't just mind-crush everyone who believes Ryou to have done wrong." Yami reasoned, feeling his heartstrings tug again at the tears slowly filling Yugi's eyes.
"Yami...they'll destroy him in there. He wont be innocent...they'll take everything away from him, until there's nothing left but the empty shell of his soul. They'll kill him from the inside." He whimpered, remembering the film he saw in ethics class.
Yami closed his eyes, forcing himself to endure the barrage of images that flashed before not only his mind's eye, but Yugi's as well...memories of that horrible prison documentary.
Men who'd kidnap others in a prison, break them into gangs and wear them down into believing they were in a twisted love, ravage their bodies until the only love they could know was the bittersweet love of abuse, of pain and of being used.
Worse yet, men who liked the younger boys, teens...they'd rape the boys until they finally gave into the whims of their rapists, brainwashed after weeks of rape that it was love, the only love they would ever be worthy of after a life of crime, the only love they'd ever see again...
A kind of sick love that left them empty once free, only to commit another felony to return to that love, the only love they were convinced they had, to the arms of their rapists and pimp-gangfathers. Or worse, leave them so tied into the sick love that the boy would return in visits, to supply drugs and other items to his lover of a master. Slave to the hypnotism of these masterful liars.