The Riot

The deep grumble grew with the numbers, standing close to the front, excitement of the oncoming carnage filled me with the most divine rush, I felt like a warrior on the frontier of battle. As the opposition called backup, our side on our phones, the excitement, the high pitched speedy voices calling friends and family to join our front. We were on the news and our voices were now loud and obvious, the chants grew in volume, the fear and excitement almost overspilling into violence and chaos. The stand off couldn’t last forever, as each side taunted the other into acting first.


They’d reacted, the volume went up and as the first person hit the floor everyone charged at the enemy, like a chain reaction setting off each person, I pushed the person in font as others pushed me, making ground as those at the front were beaten down and fell. Eventually it was me, the front; a wall of perspex, batons and screaming figures.

I was whacked, my shoulder bashed by a truncheon, enraged, throwing slaps and kicks, not exactly sure what to do, instinct took over, I was out of my wits, the adrenaline now ruling my body. Losing all rationality, screaming swearwords, everyone trying to get a push in as those from behind came forward.
Falling to my knee, I began to crush beneath the riot. Amidst the mayhem someone grabbed the belt loop of my jeans, dragging me aside and out of the chaos.

Pulled from the crowd I was placed on a step of an old office building. My friend pointed to my forehead, blood was dripping from a deep scratch, the chaos went by like a heavy train of figures. I’d done my bit, I wanted more, but now the pain was setting in and we sat waiting for one of the medics to look at my head.

Eventually the riot was gone, we’d made the news, I may of changed the world, it happened so fast, it was very exciting.


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Filed under short stories and random spouts of imagination

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