Name: Asher Blackan
Age: 25
Asher stood in the kitchen, staring at the crumpled, crying form of his father on the floor. Marcus had come home with some bad news. Now, Asher was used to bad news. His father was a gambling addict who couldn't hold a job, he knew exactly how to deal with bad news. He just wasn't prepared for his father to say that he had traded his son. The debt Marcus had was huge, bigger than Asher actually knew about, and they would never be able to pay it off. Whoever the debt was owed to had seemingly found that out. After all, why would someone trade a debt for a person? Why Asher was asked for, he didn't know. There were too many possibilities and somehow his mind always managed to bring them back to him being trafficked. It wouldn't be surprising. Perhaps his price would cover the debt.
After his wife died, Marcus began to gamble away the pain. Asher was young when she passed, and for as long as he could remember they had struggled. Any pay check went in the casinos, a few found coins were put in a slot machine. Very early on Asher realised that he was his father's second priority. A father should take care of his son but as Marcus struggled more and more, Asher had to grow quickly. He cared for his father, worked two jobs, made sure that they at least had somewhere to sleep and eat. All things his father should have done...There was a time when Asher had the opportunity to move out but he didn't. He knew it would end up with his father on the streets and he was hopelessly loyal when it came to some things.
"Of all the stupid deals you've made..." He started, sighing and putting down the tea towel that he was holding. "Fine. Fine, I have no choice. We'll never pay off your debt otherwise. Hey, at least you won't have to about me nagging you now" He was being harsh and he couldn't help it. He left the room, only sparing one last look down at his father before he went to his bedroom. He felt somewhat justified in his anger, he had just been sold off.