So I started developing these ideas for the next generation of the british teen drama, "Skins" and I quite liked my idea, it then became graphics and then became fanfictions, so this is where I upload all my stuff, I'm quite proud of it, so I hope you guys all like it :) Please let me know what you think!
Dean wasn't ready to go home or anywhere; he sat on a bench on a hill hoping that a new day would hurry up and come while he was sitting there.
He didn't want to go home and face his family because his Dad was his Dad and his Mum would break his heart. Not to mention that there was a good chance that police might turn up there or his parents might already know some other way…
He still hadn't worked out whether the police knew, he imagined it hard that no one would've said anything, but it wasn't impossible…
No one seemed to stop him on the hill and say anything to him, so he wasn't on Bristol's Most Wanted list as far as he could tell. Then again he sat with his hands limp and unable to lift his head from looking down at his feet; yet no one seemed to stop and say anything. It really just said that if it didn't directly affect them, the general public probably didn't give a damn.
Continue Reading Here --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/6/8x02-Dean
For a young adult who exercised on a daily basis, Dean was surprised at how much his running was actually killing him, despite it being the least worrying thing on his mind.
It probably came down to the fact that Dean usually had control of himself while exercising, but Dean had no control of himself in this situation.
His joints had become continually rotating pistons carrying him down streets and beyond. Dean's pants started to sound less like a catch of breath and more like a cry for help. It was no surprise he could feel the salt stinging his face; his legs continually throbbing, as he couldn't stop running and his head even more so. He dug his nails into his skull; reaching into pry out the thoughts and flick them away but he only hurt himself more.
Continue Reading Here --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/5/8x02-Dean
Dean's world was a buzz of ancient noise and constant colours he couldn't care less about. Dean's fit-filled complex days had started to become repetitive, this morning view and air was the same as yesterday. He'd head off to college have a bad day there, come home have a bad time there and continually use one to escape the other. He needed something to break his routine, before his routine broke him.
He flipped out his phone, "Hey man, where are you?"
"Q&M's, well almost, I'm bout to get a coffee, why?"
"Can I see you?"
"Sorry I'm not actually coming in today, I'll explain tomorrow."
"What? …Look can I meet you there, I'm not that far away."
There was a sigh from the other line, "Ok, fine, but be quick cause I'm not hanging around."
Continue Reading Here --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/4/8x02-Dean
Dean walked up to the front door of his house, hands trembling as he pulled out the key. 'Why am I freaking out?' Dean thought to himself, 'Just chill, get inside, have a banana, work out, watch The Simpsons, maybe have a wank…'
He opened the door to see his Dad with tie undone sprawled out on the couch.
"Your home early." Said Dean with a frown on his face.
Phil didn't look away from the telly, just kept his sour face, "You blow off school, I blow off school, what's your fucking point?"
Dean kept a straight face, he hid a rage spurred on by disbelief, "Oh you know, I just thought that University might actually need the fucking teachers there."
Phil sighed shaking his neck rolls, "Sod off Dean, I don't give a monkey's ass"
Continue Reading Here --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/3/8x02-Dean
How old are you ? And if you're the same age-ish as the characters , do you find that makes it easier to write about them ?
I'm 18 in 4 months (Or there abouts) and I was a (few months younger than 16, I think?) when I started writing.
I think even at that stage I kind of had a strong understanding of teen relationships and their personal problems and I mean even though Skins really does deal with drugs and sex at the heart of it I think that's what Skins is about that each character is undergoing this kind of emotional battlefield as they grow up and they feel really isolated by it as now going into adulthood they struggle to learn how to deal with their own emotional issues. It wasn't really this year till I started going to Skins style parties, but now I'm going to one almost once a week. In reality, they are nothing really like what's in the show, they're generally just at houses with nothing more than a crap-load of alcohol and maybe a few cigarettes? Some guys in my year got arrested for dealing weed and bringing a chainsaw to school last week, but that's a different story...
I feel like I've always had a good understanding of these personal conflicts especially with my own characters and I would say that most people who have gone through youth, even when they're like 25 still understand what it was all about and what it was like. But I also suppose it's true that as you age it becomes harder to connect with that understanding of the teenage self, but yeah.
I wrote a one-off SLiDE fanfiction, which is on my FF.net page. I've considered writing other stuff for Game of Thrones and what not. But most likely after Skins, I will go on to writing original stuff as opposed to more fanfiction.
Well as you can see I'm still struggling to get the 4th generation done, haha.
It all depends, basically I have made plans for if I was to do a 5th generation, not so in-depth as this Generation, but more-so the characters and their journeys. But it all really depends, I'll have to wait until I come back and finish Gen 4. Then if it feels right and people really want it then I'll look into doing a Gen 5, but I'm making no guarantees. The only guarantee is that I'll finish Gen 4.
"It sounds like the place where old people go to die." Said Gemma.
"It's not!" said Hayley, "It's really not! It's lovely! It's like some houses and a main street and we have a beach all to ourselves, we could go… climbing or surfing during the day and then bonfires and fireworks in the night."
"I want to be wasted in the night and passed out in the day." Said Kelly with a cunning smile.
Gemma smiled, "Cheers to that!"
"Are there even any clubs?" asked Kelly.
"Why would you want to go clubbing?" asked Hayley frowning, "We have clubs here in Bristol."
"Oh sweet, innocent, soft as a marshmallow Hayley," said Kelly smiling, "You really aren't getting the hang of post-exam parties are you?"
Continue Reading Here --> http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/2/8x02-Dean
The jagged iron fist connected straight with the heavy red bag making it convulse as it flew backwards into the air. The air rippled past Dean's arm, swiftly smacking him in the face.
Dean stood poised against a heavy red punching bag. Shirt off, bare fists and he was swinging away. His face was blood red as sweat gushed off his face and down onto his chest.
He threw his left hand down and swung his right hand across colliding it with the red sack once again. The red bag stood solid, angry and firm, it wasn't going to easily accept the punches, so Dean had to ensure that it would.
Continue Reading Here ---> http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8588539/1/8x02-Dean
Starting from Series 8, Episode 2. I will no longer be posting full chapters on Tumblr. I will instead post an opening snippet of the chapter and then have a link to the full chapter on www.fanfiction.net, this will be so I can directly count traffic. I hope this doesn't cause an inconvenience. Thank you for reading. - Angus
Judge Hoffman sat down in the courtroom again. All eyes were on him, the decision had been made, and the jury was ready. But all the while he could feel it, his mind screaming at him that he was making the wrong decision, a constant throbbing rang across his forehead. But he had to speak.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said hesitantly, "The Jury has reached a verdict. Mrs. Laura Whelan if you could please announce the verdict."
A firm middle-aged woman got to her feet, "We have heard some interesting cases put across from both parties here today. This has been a tense case for us all, the British Public is relying on us to make a decision."
Ken sank back into his chair; he could feel the verdict coming, like an axe gently resting on the back of his neck.
Ken pointed to himself and frowned in confusion.
"It took me a while to recognize you, but now I know who you are! Thought you could get off Scott-free did ya? You dirty bastard! I'll get you for what you did!" the man screamed.
"Mr. Gallagher!" said Judge Hoffman, "Why the obscene disturbance!"
"Aye, the lad is a criminal alright your honour," said Mr. Gallagher, "He Grafitti'd my car! I saw him spraying away on the streets at night and when I went to tell him a thing or two he sprayed my Lexus! That thing cost me a fortune!"
"When was this?" asked Judge Hoffman
"Only last night." Said Mr. Gallagher.
"You mean the night of the fire…" said Judge Hoffman. "The same night he is on trail for and about to be accused guilty of, you say he was vandalizing your car."
"Yeah, I've got pictures on my phone," said Mr. Gallagher, "I chased the lad off good. Now I can properly throttle you, I want to sue him for every penny."
Judge Hoffman looked at the photo's on the phone as the court muttered. He rubbed his hand on his forehead.
"Mr. Matsumoto," said Judge Hoffman, "Did you grafitti these public buildings on Cook Street and then Mr. Gallagher's car, as he said?"
"Yes," said Ken, "Yeah, I did."
"Yeah! I got you now boy-o!" said Mr. Gallagher. "Cause I got your bag in my car! The one you left when you ran! Got all your spray cans and your ID!"
"For Fucks sake…" whispered Judge Hoffman.
"What have I done?" said Mr. Gallagher.
"Right!" said Judge Hoffman putting down the phone and getting to his feet, "I no longer care what the Jury or anyone else in this room has to say. These accusations have gone on long enough. Kenneth Matsumoto was seen running around the town and reportedly assaulted a police officer; we can relate both these crimes directly back to the confirmed grafitti incident. There is nothing else that suggests that Mr. Matsumoto had anything to do with the fire incident on the night. The racial prejudice within this court has gone on long enough, we can't pin targets just cause we need one! And the worse thing is I let it slide right under my nose, but no more… Mr. Matsumoto you are guilty of public vandalizing and assaulting a police officer, you are sentenced to 400 hours of community service." He slammed his mallet, "Case dismissed."
Petrucci seethed in his chair, but before anyone could say anything Gallagher got back to his feet, "WHAT ABOUT MY LEXUS!?"
The Judge looked over to Mr. Gallagher, "Oh, and uh… Have Mr. Gallagher's car cleaned."
Ken sat there, struggling to take in what had happened. He had got off the hook, but… how? Everyone was against him, or maybe… they never were in the first place...
The court emptied until there was hardly anyone left, a man behind Ken chuckled. "Son, didn't I tell you? It's all a show in here, nothing but a stage…"
Ken turned around and looked intently, "But I didn't do anything."
"No you didn't," said the man, "Quite frankly, you were shit son. But your friends, that Gemma girl, woo! She's a fiery one! She absolutely saved your ass."
"I think Mr. Gallagher's clumsiness and pure luck saved my ass." Said Ken.
"And you're wrong again, I told you before facts and figures are minor details in the court, it was just a simple push to convince the Judge to do the right thing, because it was one more thing running against him. But I tell ya, I've never seen a judge and a jury as terrified as when your friend spoke. You've got some friends there, kid."
Ken smiled, "You know what? I absolutely do. I really, absolutely do."
The man leaned in, "Then you know what you gotta do? Let them know it." He said patting Ken on the back.
Ken smiled and got to his feet, pacing across the courtroom. He stopped and stared for a while at the room that had almost become his death, before exiting into the security check.
Ken got his gear out and went into the hallway where he saw them all sadly waiting.
Claire was the first to look up, "Ken!" she exclaimed.
The group looked up and then they ran over hollering to hug him. Ken struggled to stay on his feet as the wait of his friends almost knocked him to the ground.
"You hadn't come out for so long, so we thought you must've lost and been unable to come back out here." Said Hayley.
"Didn't you think to ask anyone else coming through here?" asked Ken.
"No one seemed keen to talk about it," said Drew, "You must've made a big impact, cause they're quite pissed."
"I didn't make an impact in there," said Ken, "I was useless, it was you guys. You all came through to save me; I thought… well I began to think that no one really cared. But you guys did care, you saved me, and none more than you Gemma." Gemma's head shot up, "You're speech could very well have saved me from prison."
Gemma shrugged with a sly grin, "It was nothing, I would have done it for any old schmuck." She said.
"Oh," said Ken looking away awkwardly.
Gemma laughed, "I'm joking you dick, you're not any old schmuck." Gemma went into hug Ken and all they hugged each other.
"Celebration time!" Said Dean, "The family is back together again. Time to celebrate by doing what we always do, get pissed!"
Kelly frowned, "Do you think your riot's still going?"
Dean shrugged, "Dunno, I never thought it'd be that successful so I can't say where it went. If we need to, we'll just crowd surf our way out."
Ken noticed Sam, still standing in the corner. He broke free from the group and went over to talk to her. "Hey," he said as he went to hug her.
But as he put her arms around her she didn't reciprocate. "What's wrong?" asked Ken, "I thought you'd be happy to see me ok."
"Yes," said Sam still looking away, "I would be happy, if you were Ok." She turned to face him, "But you're not."
"What do you mean?" said Ken smiling, "I'm off the hook, I don't have to go to prison! Just some simple old community serv-"
"No Ken" said Sam. "All this… it happened because you locked yourself away."
"My family kicked me out!" said Ken.
"Yes! Because you wouldn't let them be a part of your life Ken! I'm your girlfriend and I couldn't help you here, which leaves me to ask… Are we gonna be ok? If we can't help each other… Can we even make it?"
Ken was looking at the ground as he let out a deep breath. He looked up at the group heading out through the foyer.
He kept staring at them, "I nearly went to prison for the rest of my life for a crime I didn't commit and chances are I've been automatically expelled from Roundview…" he smirked, "I think that nothing this year can be worse than what we've already been through, we'll make it…"
Sam sighed, "I'm not so sure…"
"You have to believe we can!" said Ken.
"Then let me in," said Sam looking up, "Tell me everything on your mind, ever."
Ken stood silently for a few seconds, his eyes flickering about as he looked at Sam.
"Right," said Sam as she walked away…
"Don't do this Sam…" said Ken, "Not now."
Sam stopped on the spot without turning around to look at him. Her heart moved slowly, "Just… Go see your family. They need to know you're ok. Start there, then come back to me." She said. And with that she was gone, leaving Ken alone in the hallway.
Ken walked up the stairs to the apartment. In any usual circumstance, he could imagine his Mum getting angry, more so than ever. But in this circumstance, Ken knew she would realize what it meant to be a mother, they would've known about it because he was on the news and the fact that her son was alright… would simply make her day.
He did love his Mum and the rest of his family, he knew he did, he just needed a little reminder and maybe this case was just the step he needed to be able to move closer to them once again.
Ken fumbled for the key in his pocket, but he didn't have one on him. He winced and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked once again, but this time the door creaked open. It was already open.
Ken took small steps into the hallway. Had someone broken in? As he got to the living room, he realized it was much worse.
The furniture was all gone. Living Room. Bathroom. Kitchens. Bedrooms. There was nothing left, just an empty room.
He had worked it out, they had been talking of moving back to Japan, the only thing weighing them down was Ken, and then when they got him off their chest… Gone.
The room seemed to echo silence, all around Ken. The Bare walls and floors were almost haunting. Ken stepped forward and down the step into the living room. Void of all couches and tables. Just a few pieces of scrunched up paper in the corner.
Ken picked them up and found a drawing of his parents, Taylor and Travis, with a rip roughly down the right side. Travis had drawn it, Keiko had ripped him off.
He sat down on the single stair that led to the living room with the drawing in hand.
The drawing shook violently in his hand, he wanted to get angry but… he dropped the drawing.
He buried his head in his knees and started crying in the empty, lonely room.
Judge Hoffman leant back in his chair. He took his wig off and rubbed his hand against his balding head, wiping off waves of sweat. "16 years," he said, "That's how long I've been banging that damn mallet for. I swore when I started I would help rid the streets of evil men so that the citizens of Great Britain could walk around with ease. I thought by now I would've made a difference. Now look what it's come to, putting school kids on trail for acts of terrorism."
"Except he's not a school kid" said a jury member, "as we've discovered."
"17 year old teenagers don't go round making bombs." Said Judge Hoffman.
"He's got the face of a criminal." Said a jury member nodding.
"The Face of a criminal doesn't stand in court." Snapped a woman.
"But I've met him before I know it," said the man, "I know I've seen him do something bad, I just can't put my finger on it."
"Well we're gonna have to stick to strict evidence," said Judge Hoffman, "'I Think he looks like a bad guy' is not what I would I call strict evidence."
Another Jury Member on the table leaned in, "Your Honour, you do realize that despite everything that's being said, we have no strict evidence what-so-ever on the boy, we can argue that it is evidence, but we know in reality it's not, and we can only tell the public we are following tails for so long."
"You're right, if we tell them we've got nothing they'll break out into panic again," said the Judge.
Mr. Petrucci was leaning against the door of the meeting room, smiling. "The problem is that you're thinking about it logically. You need to remove essential law and judgment from the situation and focus on the facts and the best possible outcome for the nation."
The table looked over at Mr. Petrucci at the door. "Mr. Petrucci," said Judge Hoffman, "As the defendant in this case, I cannot authorize you to be in this room."
"This is a special case, you need all the help you can get. Just hear me out and I'll go and leave you to decide, or maybe I'll just drop the words to the press that you and the jury are having a pre-case meeting in which you are planning out how the case is going to run in your favour."
Judge Hoffman scowled, "First off, we are the enforcers of law and judgment, and the moment that we drop those from our morality will be the moment I resign."
"I'm not asking you to give up rightful law, I'm telling you to give rightful law across the British nation." Said Mr. Petrucci.
Jim Petrucci had a way of making people squirm; Judge Hoffman could feel it now. His body was a shell and inside that was a bare and open soul. Petrucci could reach directly in to his eyes and pull out the soul, stretching it and shaping it until it was the way he desired.
Judge Hoffman repositioned himself, "You may speak…briefly."
"Look Your Honour. Ken Matsumoto. Let's review this situation. He is reclusive, evasive and troublesome. He assaulted a police officer that much we do have stone cold evidence on, the rest of his behaviour and the fact that he was one of the only people sighted in the town on the night and especially with that attitude, correlates to the explosion at the Baker's and then directly back to the London Crash. Any other day and the people wouldn't care, but these people are scared and desperate for answers, we've got a society about to cave in on itself and a government that can't provide them anything, when society is in danger do you think one kid who is regardless a criminal, becomes important in a situation like this? We have greater things at hand.
Ken doesn't have a school or a family, regardless of whether he is or isn't guilty, this case is enough for society to directly associate him as the image of the attack. And right now we need that, one kid in jail doesn't stack up to a society collapsing on itself, hell if that kid had the slightest bit of decency and understood the situation he'd volunteer to lock himself up and we know from his situation that no one is gonna miss him or call out for him are they? Are they?"
Judge Hoffman looked up at the table, Petrucci's dagger eyes scanned the table for any protestors but the entire Jury had their eyes focused on the table in front of them. Judge Hoffman sighed because he was much the same.
Ken sat at the interrogation table; his hands were clammy and sweaty. He was almost motionless like a doll, with his hands flat on the table and his eyes fixated on the center.
The guard opened the door to the room and called out to Ken, "Jim Petrucci to see you."
Mr. Petrucci stepped into the room in his clean, well-kept suit, "Salutations Mr. Matsumoto." He said looking at Ken. But Ken remained motionless with the light beating down upon him.
"I'll handle it from here," said Mr. Petrucci to the guard with a smirk, "I am a Taekwondo Black Belt after all."
The Guard just gave him a stern look and shut the door leaving just Ken and Mr. Petrucci.
Mr. Petrucci sat down at the table, "Mr. Matsumoto. How are you feeling then?"
Ken remained silent.
"What have you…"
"Why are you here." Interrupted Ken. "Why the HELL are you here?"
"I thought we could have a little chat, reach an agreement." Said Mr. Petrucci.
Ken looked up at Petrucci with a cold hard look. If a slug was to ever take human form, this is what it would look like. Jim Petrucci was a self-centered man, and you could see his gold-crusted ego lingering through the air.
"We both know you could win that court case in ten minutes." Said Ken. "Why would you want to make an agreement with me."
Petrucci leaned in, "Despite what some people may say, you are not the devil Ken."
"I know I'm not," said Ken, "It's you I was worried about."
"Anyway…" said Petrucci seething, "I want you to be secure. Find some way in which your life is not completely miserable. I do not wish to see you suffer. I am not overly bothered if such events occur, but it is not a desire of mine. Certain things need to be said about you Ken; certain images need to be put in place for the good of the British public. I want your 100% compliance with whatever you have said or put upon you."
"Why the hell would I do that?" asked Ken.
"Because if you do. Then I can rearrange your judgment, so to speak. I know a nice place in Germany you can go to, you would stay about… 8 years? Possibly even 5 with good behaviour. Then I can provide a link so you can get on your feet again, you could have a small apartment in what… 15 years? Maybe? It's not much, but it's better than a lifetime in prison, hey?" said Petrucci with a sinister smile.
"You are foul." Said Ken.
Petrucci sighed, "I'm only trying to gain your trust, I want to help you!"
"The only reason you're here, the only reason guys like you are ever here, is for the money, and what case would be better than the case of the decade, hey?"
"You've got no idea? Have you?" said Petrucci. "This case isn't just about you. If it was it would've been over by now. Ken, right now Britain is terrified of this terrorist threat and the Government has absolutely no response for the situation. They need an answer, and you are that answer!"
"Me?" said Ken.
"Yes! Don't you get it? Every person out there has pinned you as the image of this new wave of terrorism. The government has hit a jackpot with you, because it means it will cease the thought that the government is helpless. Putting you behind bars will show that we are doing something about the situation." Petrucci paused, as Ken looked horrified. "All of this is strictly off the record of course, using this as evidence within court will only cancel our deal. Just thought you should know."
"What about me!" said Ken, "My life was falling apart, I just wanted to let it go, let loose and now I've been pinned with this."
"Sorry mate. Life's a dick ain't it?" said Petrucci leaning back and crossing his legs.
Ken looked at the table and then leaned forward to Petrucci, "I've been avoiding mentioning them before because they threatened me but… you ever heard of the Castaldi Boys?"
"Yeah…" said Petrucci, "I've dealt with a few of them in court before."
"Well they're the ones behind it," said Ken, "I can tell you the exact ones, I was afraid of them before but now risking jail I don't have much choice, so I'll tell you…"
Petrucci shook his head, "I'm sorry… that won't do. It's not gonna settle the British Public."
"But they're the culprits!" Shouted Ken.
"Yes, but they're not…" Petrucci shook his head, "They're not…"
"What? They're not what?" asked Ken.
Petrucci frowned and then looked up at Ken, "The right type."
Ken paused, staring dead straight at Petrucci, "Un-fucking-believable."
Petrucci sighed, "Look, I still haven't got your trust, so I'll tell you one more thing… another off the record thing, just for your benefit." He leaned in close to Ken, "I don't even think you did it."
Ken looked down at the table clenching his fist and then up at Petrucci, "I've got something to, between you and me, off the record." He leaned in, "If I'm ever free again, the first thing I'll do is find you and snap your neck."
Ken and Petrucci leaned out. "You make your case quite clear Mr. Matsumoto." Said Mr. Petrucci, "I'm sorry we could not agree on these matters."
He picked up his briefcase and walked out of the room leaving just Ken. As soon as he was out of sight, Ken broke down on the table in tears. The world was against him.
The Guards outside the courthouse stood in a straight line, Firm, but relaxed, Thumbs hanging out belt loops, Keen to go home.
Reg turned to Harry, "Did you see that ludicrous display last night?"
Harry scoffed, "What was Wenger thinking sending Walcott on so early?"
Henry shook his head, "The thing about Arsenal is, they always try to walk it in."
Langdon put a finger to his lips, "Hold on, shut up you lot."
"What is it?" asked Harry, "We're only talking about footb…"
"No Seriously, shut up." Said Langdon.
He was staring intently at a flickering orange light at the end of the road. A strange sight at day time, unless…
Langdon suddenly realized what it was as the voices drew closer, "This is Sergeant Langdon Cole reporting, requesting immediate back-up on Ford Street."
The others frowned looking the distance as the intercom buzzed, "State your emergency Sergeant Cole."
"We've got a riot headed directly for the courthouse."
The Mob bellowed throughout the street, as 3000, maybe 4000 protestors came running down the streets, throwing firebombs and smashing cars.
Dean leapt onto a car with a megaphone. "IS THIS THING ON? OH SHIT… IT IS… UM… PEOPLE OF BRISTOL! HOW ARE YA?"
The crowd dropped volume considerably, confused at Dean's display.
"UM… WELL… ANYWAY! IT'S NOT IMPORTANT, I'LL TELL YOU WHAT IS IMPORTANT OUR FRIEND! KEN MATSUMOTO IS A FIGHTER FOR THE PEOPLE!"
The crowd roared at that.
"YOU SEE THAT COURTHOUSE DOWN THERE? THEY'RE HOLDING HIM IN THERE AND ACCUSING HIM OF A CRIME HE DIDN'T COMMIT, JUST BECAUSE OF HIS SKIN COLOUR. THE LAZY-ASS GOVERNMENT WANTS US TO PINPOINT OUR HATE FOR TERRORISTS ON HIM! AND HE'S COMPLETELY INNOCENT! THEIR OPPRESSION OF HIM COULD LEAD HIM TO BE LOCKED AWAY FOR LIFE! NOW I DON'T KNOW ABOUT WHAT THE COURT THINKS AND ALL THAT… AND WHAT THEY'RE GONNA DO… BUT I SURE AS HELL DO KNOW ONE THING! WE'RE NOT GONNA FUCKING LET 'EM!"
The Crowds roar echoed throughout the country as they charged down the street. As this happened, a cluster of Police Vans pulled up at the end of the street and hundreds of police officers with riot gear started filling out.
Dean jumped off and Drew made his way towards him, being squashed up against Dean by the other riot members, "You sure about this?" Drew asked.
"Yeah," said Dean, "Someone's gotta make a difference."
"Did you really convince all these people to come help Ken?" asked Drew.
"Nah," said Dean, "I'd say only 15% know him, the rest just want a good riot."
Drew smirked, "Now that I can believe."
Ken stared out the window of the interrogation room as the chaos unfolded. His heart was racing at a mile a minute, but he wasn't quite sure where his mind or his heart was just yet. He only hoped to see a familiar face out there.
The door to the interrogation room opened, "You have a guest to see you." Said the officer.
"Ken," said a voice at the door. Ken turned round to see Tony walk in. Ken's eyes grew wide; it felt like he hadn't seen a familiar face in years.
"Tony." He said quite despondent, "I can't believe… But what are you…"
"You honestly expect me to watch you sit by on your own." Said Tony.
"But Roundview cut connections with me." Said Ken shaking his head.
"I know they did." Said Tony, "I Found out this morning. What they hoped would be their best kept secret was quickly uncovered. But I'm not here on behalf of Roundview, I'm here to help you where the cowards fucked off."
"Tony," said Ken, "It's really fucking great to see you, I mean that but… I'm screwed. The guy who's going against me is a slime ball; he is the slyest guy I've ever seen and they've got everything pinned against me."
"Ken, you know you're innocent, as long as you keep that as the no. 1 thought on your mind, it doesn't matter what they have against you, you'll be able to get through."
"Can you speak as a witness for me?" asked Ken.
Tony closed his eyes and sighed, "No… sorry… because I know I'll lose my job and it won't help."
"At least I'll know someone's on my side!" said Ken.
"I'll be in the audience," said Tony, "without a doubt and I'm got official records that haven't been erased saying you went to Roundview. I won't show them ID, because Blood will catch me out, but I'm doing what I can. The Best I can."
"I'm just… sick of having no one there for me." Said Ken.
"Ken, I think you've got a messed up view on who's really there for you. And I think this is far from the first time." Said Tony cocking his head looking at a glum Ken, "Samantha came and talked me to about you, she was worried about you, worried she was going to lose you, that you didn't want anything to do with her. She cared and you shut her off."
Ken sighed, "It doesn't…"
"Ken look outside, do you see that? There are almost 4000 fucking people out there and every single one of them is physically fighting, potentially risking their lives to get you out of here, all headed up by your friends."
Ken looked up at Tony who smiled and nodded, "That's right, Dean Winton, Drew Martin, Claire Valentino, Hayley McDonnell, Paulie Preston, Kelly Dawson, Gemma Rockett and Samantha O'Keefe all got together and rallied up this mob, friends, friends of friends, acquaintances, one night stands, anybody, they got the connection tree going and got together mob to set you free. So when you say there's no one there for you, there is no one on that board who is there for you, but I'll tell you what, out there, are people who would give their lives for you, and don't tell me that not's worth anything." Said Tony smiling, and for the first time since he was with Samantha, Ken smiled back.
Officer Warwick who was watching the security tape picked up his phone. "Yep, we've got a trace, they've given us everything we need. Do a data search, on Dean Winton, Drew Martin, Claire Valentino, Hayley McDonnell, Paulie Preston, Kelly Dawson, Gemma Rocket and Samantha O'Keefe. I want the main priority to be finding them within the crowd and neutralizing them."
"Alright," said Judge Hoffman, "Do either the Plaintiff or the Defendant have anything more to add?" he asked.
"No, your honour." Said Mr. Petrucci, "I think I've made the case… quite clear." He looked over at Ken and smiled.
Ken shut his eyes.
"Mr. Matsumoto." Said Judge Hoffman, "You have claimed without backup, that you were not involved in the fire, you claim that you assaulted the police officer for making a racist insult and that you have no involvement with the terrorist attacks on Big Ben what-so-ever."
"That is correct." Said Ken.
"Thank you, that will be all." Said Judge Hoffman. As he got to his feet he looked out over the courthouse, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the jury is about to make a decision. This is no ordinary court case, this is no ordinary situation. Out there is an outcry from the British public, an outcry to lock up he who caused the suffering of others, however minor his involvement, and right on our door step is another group of society who are tearing apart our city, demanding that we release this innocent boy as they claim." The whole court listened to the uproar outside.
"Mr. Matsumoto." Said the Judge, "Did you have any involvement with this riot?"
"How could I? I have been at the station the entire time." Said Ken shaking his head.
"Well…" said Judge Hoffman, "You seemed to have been a step ahead of us, as the evidence speaks quite against you."
Ken shook his head, unable to believe what was happening in his world anymore, "The evidence held against me in here as been hardly plausible and more a complicated string of words. How can you have evidence against me for this?"
Mr. Petrucci cleared his throat, "The evidence I have put forward has been highly plausible and almost certainly factitious, I have…"
Judge Hoffman banged his mallet, "Quiet both of you, you have declared that you have stated your case, I am now simply asking about the Riot outside."
Ken looked up sternly at the judge, "I'm not involved."
The Judge looked intently at Ken, "Bring them in," he said.
The Guards marched in eight familiar faces that should've brought a smile to Ken's face but instead broke his heart. Dean, Drew, Claire, Hayley, Paulie, Kelly, Gemma and… Sam… walked in with worn out faces. Looking around desperately.
"Ken!" exclaimed Sam. They all got excited but Judge Hoffman quickly ceased it with a bang of his mallet. "Quiet," Said the Judge.
"These are your friends are they not?" asked Judge Hoffman.
"Yes," said Ken, "They are my friends."
"We have evidence that suggests that these eight young people, are the ring leaders of the riot out there. Now should this be true, they could be facing serious charges, almost as serious as yours." Said the Judge.
Ken looked at the desk in front of him before looking up. He was going to crash and burn, he didn't want to take the only people who mattered down with him. "They didn't do it. I mean… they did, but I made them."
The audience quickly began to murmur amongst themselves as Petrucci raised an eyebrow. The Judge leaned forward, "Elaborate."
"I pressured them all into it, quite seriously. I had to find a way out of this court case and a riot seemed like a big enough way, I just had to make sure that my friends organized it, and I wasn't going to take no for an answer, I dragged them into it, kicking and screaming." Said Ken.
The eight of them frowned staring at Ken.
"Mr. Matsumoto," said Judge Hoffman, "These are some serious allegations, if you are confirming this to be true then this almost definitely holds you guilty for the other crimes held against you, you will almost certainly face a lifetime in jail."
Mr. Matsumoto nodded, "Ok." He said.
Judge Hoffman sighed, "Well that settles it then."
Gemma shook her head, "No," she whispered. "Hang on a minute." She said.
"No, Gemma, Don't," said Drew.
"Hang on a fucking minute!" shouted Gemma. The audience gasped in horror.
"Young Lady," said the Judge, "You are in a court, not only are you not eligible to speak, but your decorum is somewhat…"
"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Gemma. "No! You hear me no! I won't stand for this! I don't care how fucked up it is out there, or in society, or in the jury room or in the government! Cause that's what you've all done, you've fucked it up!"
"Now Ken here, we know him, he's been to college, with us, stuck through us with everything, Sam's even dated him and he's our mate. I can expect him to get in a small fist fight, or punch a cop or grafitti a building, but he wouldn't go as far as to blow one up and he's not a terrorist and you know that. What possible claim could you have to say that he was involved in the plane crash, a few dodgy witnesses, a fake arson claim and the fact that he's Japanese, that's utter bullshit! Now I don't care how much fucking authority you have. We love Ken, and you'll have to take down all of us to take him down in your fight to impress the government, you get that? He's engraved on all our hearts and if you take him away, you take away from all of us just to please a society. Well let me ask you this? What's a society where the people don't matter?"
Everyone stared silently at Gemma, lost gazing at her. Ken stared down at the desk in front of him, unable to fight back the tears, he was crying cause this was the first time he was certain… absolutely certain… that people loved him, and if he went to jail for the rest of his life, he no longer cared, cause he had got what he wanted most of all.
Ken jumped to his feet, which came as a shock to most of the audience. He immediately ran over to the group and hugged them. They crowded around him to hug him.
"I love you guys." He whispered, "You are so fucking great."
But it was brief, before the guards pulled him off and dragged him back to his seat.
Judge Hoffman sat silently. "Your honour?" said Petrucci, urging him to come back to reality.
Hoffman looked across the courtroom, "The Jury will now make a decision."
Judge Hoffman and the Jury all got up from their seats to head to the decision room. One of the guards spoke up, "Everybody is to remain within the court while the jury makes a decision. Except for the riot members, Officer Barton, if you could please escort them to wait in the corridor thank you."
Ken watched them being escorted out, and seared the image to his mind. After all, it could be the last time he saw them.
Judge Hoffman sat at the end of the meeting table, sweat running down his forehead, palms gripping the table. "Ladies and Gentlemen. We have never faced a bigger decision, and you should all know that this could possibly be the biggest decision of your life. The Country is watching."
Thanks for following :D I really like your idea. I haven't started reading any of what you've written yet but I'll get to it this weekend. Really excited to see what you have in mind :D
I hope you enjoy it! I haven't written in a while but I plan to start up again soon. There's a lot to read in the meantime though if your new :)
Hello again! Surprise, I'm not dead. I know you've seen a million apologies from me from my apparent laziness but I oh you this one cause I've been gone two months cause I've had a beyond stressful and difficult term. I haven't given up on Gen 4, there have just been more things in my life at the moment that have been hard to deal with, thank you all so much for supporting me regardless. My exams are over in about 5 days and so then I'm finished Year 11 and I'll try to start working on Gen 4 again, properly this time. I hope you can all forgive me for my laziness and I hope you are still eager to read Series 8, see ya real soon :)
Ken sat in a long and elegant wooden hallway. Every sound that happened in here seemed to be completely held within the room. The low mumbles of the court could be heard through the double doors and outside on the streets a lot of yelling could be heard from the doorsteps of the courthouse.
A rugged security guard stood opposite Ken. He wore a blank face that stared at the wall, but one then looked violent as if it could crack. He was too intimidating to look at it.
Ken paid no attention and stared at his feet, hoping they might provide some source of entertainment.
"Don't be afraid," said a voice near Ken. He looked up quickly at the security guard, but he was frozen in place. The voice had come from the wandering man, now standing opposite Ken.
"I'm not afraid." Said Ken, "I've… well I've sort of done this…"
"To show emotion." Said the man.
Ken frowned and lost his train of thought, "Sorry, what?"
"Don't be afraid to show emotion." Said the man nodding. "Many people think it's reasonably good to remain calm and just be smart about the whole thing and not show your true colours, but their wrong."
"And you know this how?" asked Ken.
The man ignored Ken's questions, "A blank face with good evidence, doesn't connect with the audience."
"The audience? This isn't a fucking stage show." Said Ken.
"Isn't it?" suggested the man. "Who gives mercy to a merciless man, no one. Listen to the crowds out there, none of them know who you are or you're story, guilty or innocent, they don't care. What they've been told is that you represent what they are angry at and hell they'd pelt rocks at their own kids if they were told it was bad. They're blind fools, they don't want facts and figures, they just want to let it out someone, the media has an audience to satisfy and so they've amplified the first case they can find, which in your incredible bad luck has happened to be you. Now guilty or innocent, I don't care and quite frankly it doesn't matter, regardless, you can still get out of this, but that's all this thing is, one great big show and it's audience are stupid and long for emotion they can connect to. You need to do that or you're just gonna fall prey to the mob kid…"
"Who the hell are you?" asked Ken shaking his head, "What's with the pep talk."
"Doesn't matter," he said, "I'm just someone who would sooner join those on the plane then the mob out there."
Ken frowned in disbelief as the man walked off and there was knock on the double doors. "Right kid" said the security guard, "It's show time."
A lot of rambling and insults came from the audience as Ken was walked in, even the jury was muttering amongst themselves as Ken sat at his desk.
The judge banged his mallet against the desk and rose to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen, need I remind you we are in the courthouse, this is not the place for opinions, emotions or desires, this is the place for facts, cases and justice, no amount of bickering shall change that. Mr. Kenneth Yuuto Matsumoto you are here by charged in the federal court of England for acts of arson within the streets of Bristol, assault of a police officer, and being involved in the terrorist attack in London on the date of August 2nd, 2013. These crimes could face a penalty of a minimum 20 years in jail with no parole, and a maximum life sentence in a high security prison, how do you plead?"
Ken stood to his feet in a heartbeat, "Innocent!"
"Alright, Mr. Matsumoto, please refrain from doing any rash movements, there will be time for you to plead your case. I'd like to open the floor to Mr. Jim Petrucci to open the Plaintiff's case."
Ken frowned and looked across the room. A Man in a slick, polished suit stood up and straightened his tie; his hair was slicked back and his skin oozed like a slug covered in gold. Never before had Ken seen someone that perfectly fitted the stereotype.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Your honour, allow me to dismiss some confusion. You are probably wondering who I represent, who could a plaintiff be in this case. The plaintiff… is you, the people of Britain." Ken recoiled his chair. "I am a representative of the government of Great Britain, and a firmly established lawyer and I will not stand down to see our country soiled by those who wish to bring harm to it. My heart grieved when I heard about the attacks on London, I shed a tear for every British citizen that experienced loss on that day. I vowed that every man involved in that attack no matter how insignificant, shall go unpunished and more to that our streets are still in danger. These attacks of fire, violent assaults against good British police officers, explosions within our streets, our homes, they are caused by the likes of him!" said Jim shooting a finger across at Ken. "Do you really want to let him roam the streets, a man who puts innocent British lives and their children endanger. Guilty or innocent, we all know that these streets aren't safe while his kind still roams the streets. I Beg you please, hear me out, to make Britain a safer nation, I urge you to see my way. Thank you."
"Hang on a minute," said Ken frowning, "His kind? That's a blatant racial insult, you dick! Everything you said was a sugarcoated lie!"
"Mr. Matsumoto!" yelled the judge, "Would you care to plead your case."
Ken stood up and struggled to find words, he bunched his fists with sweat dripping down his face as he realized. He was alone, no one in this court was for him, there was no one he knew.
"I'm innocent," said Ken plainly, "I've never dealt with explosives or arson before, or terrorist groups, I'm completely against that, it infuriated me, my Aunt was on that plane, people I knew were on that plane. I can't believe I'm being accused of this."
"Is that how you are opening your case?" asked the judge.
Ken swallowed and looked around at the hundreds of eyes upon him, "Yes," he said.
"Alright," said the judge, "Return to your seat."
"The plaintiff will be represented by Mr. Jim Petrucci, any statements against this shall be put forward now or withheld." The judge banged his hammer against the board. "Right, The defendant will be represented by himself, any statements against this shall be put forward now or withheld."
"Um…" said Ken furrowing his brow, "What?"
The judge sighed, "Mr. Matsumoto, what is your occupation?"
Ken paused, "I'm a student… at Roundview College. I've got ID, I can show you." He got out his wallet and passed his student card to the guard to take it to the judge.
"The Court contacted Roundview College earlier this morning," said Petrucci from across the room, "We spoke to Mr. David Blood, head of the college and he said Ken Matsumoto is not a student at Roundview College." Ken's head snapped to look over at Petrucci in disbelief, "In fact Ken Matsumoto's name does not appear anywhere on the College's records, while I'm sure that Identity card looks very convincing, I am convinced that it is a fake. Probably produced by some high class identity fraud associates of his."
Ken growled while staring at the slime ball called Petrucci.
"Right," said the Judge, "Mr. Matsumoto, you gave us your address of residence, and your families contact details, but after numerous attempts at phoning numerous numbers, we were not able to get in contact with any of the members of the Matsumoto family, and the landlord of the apartment block where you stated you reside was contacted and he stated that there was no Matsumoto family present within the building."
Ken sat there in disbelief. Had this court case been rigged? Or had his safety nets deserted him when he needed them.
"Mr. Matsumoto, do you have any other references that we could contact before this court case begins."
Ken sat in his chair and hesitated before saying clearly, "No."
"Very well," said the Judge as he began shuffling through the files.
Ken sat anxiously waiting for the judge, he had already fallen miles down the pit, he had no lawyer, no defense and no one to help him, and there was no one on his side.
"Dirty Asian liar" came a voice behind him. Ken frowned and turned around to look at the audience, "I'm sorry?" he said.
"You heard me," said a scruffy old bearded man in the audience, "You're nothing but a dirty Asian lying scumbag. How dare you attack our country, you chink."
"Shut you're fat ass mouth!" shouted Ken standing to his feet.
"Come at me you piece of shit!" he said as he got to his feet. Then other people from the audience began to rise, hurling insults at Ken and the man a like.
"Order, ORDER!" said the judge banging his mallet. But the audience would not calm down, a shoe hit Ken square in the forehead and sent him stumbling back against the desk.
"Right! That's it!" said the judge, "This case is temporarily withheld! Officer Bailey, please escort Mr. Matsumoto out of the court and into his cell."
The large officer that had led Ken in came and grabbed him, shielding him off from the audience; he took him out of the court and along the corridor. Ken felt his arm being squeezed so tight he was sure it would fall off.
Ken was placed in his cell as the officer came and locked it, "The court apologizes for the current situation; you will be informed of when the court is resumed." He said clearly before marching off leaving Ken alone once again in his cell.
…More on this breaking news report. Local 17-year-old Ken Matsumoto has been charged with arson and use of explosives, as well as the assault of a police officer. These photographs show the local butchers shop on Wendell's street that was center of the blast. Above it contained a room that seemed to contain highly valuable items that belonged to the owners, but now are too charred and damaged to be of any worth. Luckily no one was in the vicinity at the time of the explosion. The court has charged Matsumoto with the following crimes as well as accusing him of being involved in the recent terrorist attack on London, while there has been no evidence yet of Matsumoto being involved with the attack, the court is highly suspicious and has traces they plan to follow. Matsumoto stated within the court that he had a family and attended the local Roundview College, but when questioned neither the family was traceable nor did Matsumoto's names appear anywhere on the college records.
"BULLSHIT!" yelled Drew. The whole group sat around the TV at Gemma's house watching the news report. "I can't believe this. How is this happening? What do we do?"
"Well maybe the court just has to decide." Said Kelly, "We wait for results."
"But we know he didn't do it," said Drew, "We know he is innocent, they're just using him, to make it look like the government doing something about this attack."
"It's a huge case Drew," said Paulie, "What do you want us to do?"
"We know he's innocent!" said Gemma, "We can't fucking let this happen."
"Nobodies gonna listen to us, we're just a bunch of teenagers. If anything we'll get taken in too." Said Hayley.
"That's not true," said Claire, "We can write in, make protests, get on the news, there must be someway we can get on the news."
"This is our friend here!" said Drew, "He's all on his own, his school and his family have disowned him and he has done nothing wrong. We can't just write in a letter."
"Than what do you propose we do!" Shouted Kelly.
"Fuck the news!" said Gemma giving the TV the finger, "Fuck all of it! Fuck the court!"
"That's not gonna do anything!" yelled Claire. All at once the voices piled in over the top of each other. Sam and Dean sat at the back relatively quiet.
Dean walked up to the front and stood up on Gemma's kitchen bench, "Shut up the lot of you!" he said, "How many people do we know, who support us and support Ken? Huh? Everyone at that college knows he is innocent, but no one persons gonna step forward. This is our friend here and he is in serious trouble! Everyone has left him, everyone has fucked off! But we aren't gonna do that, because we're better than that! And so… We take the fight to them. If the government and the court is gonna try and fuck with us and use us for what they want, then we're gonna fuck with them! Contact everyone you can, get absolutely everyone you can to help and tell them to get everyone they can. I know we can pull in a crowd big enough, we need as much help as we can get!"
"Dean…" said Kelly, "What the hell are you even suggesting?"
Dean smirked, "I suggest we go to the town courthouse and start a motherfucking riot to save our friend."
Ken walked into the misty night with his backpack strapped on tight. He raised the bandana to cover his nose and mouth, leaving only his eyes and forehead visible.
Ken had never gone for any of the buildings on the main streets, but in the middle of the night when your anger's flaring up, you tend to get a bit more drastic and that's just what Ken did.
The anger all flowed out through his art, Ken felt himself releasing upon the wall, every anger he had ever had, his frustration with his Mum, with society, it all came out there, and it felt amazing.
A car came up behind him, as it drove by it tooted it's horn, clearly a disappointed driver. Ken turned around and sprayed the car with his green spray paint in frustration. The man recoiled in shock; he slammed his pedal on the brake, immediately getting out to look at the damage on his car, but when he turned around to have a go at Ken, Ken was already bolting down the street with his bag on his back.
Ken saw the driver in the distance stamp around angrily. Ken laughed pulling down his bandana. He frowned feeling his ears burn and then the sounds came up a minute later, he saw the pillar of fire shooting up into the sky.
Ken's eyes shot wide open and he dropped his backpack. His legs carried his body around the corner to a long enclosed street. He ran down it to see a few figures at the end, making joyous laughing sounds.
Ken was so confused, he was curious, but everything in his brain was yelling at him to get out of there.
"Hey!" yelled one of the voices down the street, "What the fuck do you want?"
Ken couldn't find the words to respond and he couldn't find the willpower in his legs to bolt, only stumble backwards.
One of the figures frowned at Ken, "Hang on a fucking second." He said as he marched right up to Ken. Ken stumbled backwards into some bins, pulling himself up against the wall.
"It's fucking Chinky!" shouted the figure as he pushed Ken up against the wall. Ken felt his entire body turn to soup as he realized about 10 Castaldi boys surrounded him, and a lot of them looked far from boys, and closer to death machine.
The lead one from the other day came up behind the one holding him against the wall breathing down his neck. "What's your business here cunt-eye?" spat the thug.
"What do you care?" said Ken through his rapid breathes, "Why did you blow up that building?"
"None of your fucking business buddy." He said sneering down Ken's neck. He pulled back his fist, "If you really want to know. This lot decided they'd cheat us out on our money, so we thought we'd level the ground with them. Now, I've been wanting to do this for a really long fucking time, tonight's been a good night."
A Massive guy with a slashed jaw came up behind him, he looked ten times terrifying but he looked at the one pulling his arm back, "Leave it Leo. We don't have time and he's not worth it, cops'll be here soon."
"But he's a witness! And he's fucked with us I've been waiting to rough him up for ages, it' won't take long." Complained Leo to the elder.
"I said fucking leave it," the huge man growled, "If I have to ask you again, I'll knock you flat on your fucking ass, and if he does squeal I'll make sure I personally slit his throat, now drop him."
Leo took a deep breath clenching his fists and motioned for the other boy to let Ken down. Ken dropped to the ground catching his breath, but Leo came up to him quickly and smacked his head against the wall.
Ken fell to the ground in a cry of pain as he heard the others walk away laughing, as all around him went black.
His whole body shook as his head thundered against the ground. He could feel blood swelling around his eye, and a constant banging sound resounding through his skull.
Ken scraped his hands along the ground crying out in pain. He could move and he could feel what was going on around him, but his head hurt like a mace had been pitched at it.
Then he heard a distant siren… Ken snapped into action, there was no time to fuss about his head. He chucked his hood up and scrambled on to his feet. His body threw him sideways as he leaned against the wall, but he briskly walked out of the alleyway with the building smoking up behind him.
Ken knew if he was running that would look too suspicious and he would get arrested in an instant and his head injury didn't exactly make him look innocent. He walked along with his hands in his pockets and he realized that walking with his hood up would look suss too. He threw down his hood and continued to walk along casually, doing dodgy things like taking the backstreets would only get him in trouble, so he walked along the main road.
Soon enough he saw a cop car drive around the corner on it's own, they seemed to be doing a patrol of the area. Ken kept his head straight, but cursed when he saw it pull to a stop in front of him.
"'Scuse me" said the officer, "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"
Ken's mind ran at a thousand miles at a minute, 'Keep cool, you're innocent'
"Sure, go ahead."
The officer turned back to his co-worker. "What do you want me to say to the chief?" she asked.
"Just tell him. We've found a Jap, so he can call the search off" he said as he laughed.
The officer got out of the car and stood up in front of Ken flipping open his notebook. At this point Ken was fed up with the racist comments and especially from a police officer, he punched the man square in the face. The man yelped reaching up for his face as he fell back against the squad car.
Ken realized what he had done and began to bolt, he ran down the street at a mile a minute and the officer jumped back in the car flicking on the siren.
"Shit," said Ken as he slid to a halt and turned down a back alley so the car couldn't follow him. He came out at the other side looking quickly down both sides of the streets.
There were 2 cop cars without sirens on, on this street and Ken quickly tried to regain himself so they didn't notice him, but it was too late, one cop had already shouted out and began running at him. Ken's legs sent him flying again as he ran down the street.
They wouldn't outrun him and if they turned around to head for their cars he would be able to divert them quick enough. If he kept his wits about him he could still survive this.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the car from the other street came roaring around the corner. Ken skidded to a halt and ran up the upper street. 2 other cars came roaring after it, they had called for back up and then the cars from that street joined too.
Ken's heart thumped wildly as 5 cars chased him. He couldn't run down an alley they'd see him and he couldn't outrun the cars, he knew that, he had seconds before they had him surrounded and just at that moment everything around him seemed to slow down so he could think.
He couldn't escape, but if he could… what would he escape for? His mother had kicked him out, his girlfriend had walked out on him, he had no home and nobody.
Ken stopped running and turned around, sticking his hands up in the air. The car from before roared around him blocking off his exit.
The officers immediately leapt out of their cars guns at the ready, some leant over their cars pointing their guns at him while others rushed to tackle him to the ground, it wasn't the worst he had been hurt tonight.
4 officers piled on top of him as he felt the handcuffs slammed down and heard lots of voices shouting around him, but he couldn't pick up a single word, to him it was only silence.
Ken sat in a grey room with a single light beating down on the table in front of him. The officer with the bruised face scowled at him from across the table, Ken could easily read a few things, years without a promotion, stale TV Dinners and an unfaithful wife, had led him to be a bit of a grim man, but Ken despised him all the same.
"You will remain here tonight and all nights to come until your court case. You have the right to remain silent during this time, but anything you do say can and will be used against you. Is there any family you'd like us to contact? You can make one phone call."
Ken shook his head, "I don't have a family any more." He stared blankly at the table in front of him.
The officer paid no sympathy, "Right… Your court case will be tomorrow at 11:00 am, usually we couldn't get a case that early after the crime, but you being a special case we have shifted it to as early as possible. Should you be found guilty, the most likely sentence will be a lifelong term in jail, during which…"
Ken frowned, "No hold up one minute… lifelong jail sentence? Since when was it a lifelong jail sentence? I thought it was about a year or something."
"Well you should have thought about that before you did it, shouldn't you?" said the officer mockingly.
"Arson is not a lifelong sentence." Said Ken.
"Maybe so. But your other crimes might be worth a bit more than a year." He said.
"What other crimes?" asked Ken bewildered.
"You have been labeled as a potential terrorist threat." Snarled the officer.
The words hit Ken smack in the face, "What…"
"You heard me, right." Said the officer.
"Because I'm…" he pointed to his skin, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
"I'm not fucking kidding you." Said the officer, "And neither will be every single tabloid in England tomorrow morning."
"What?" said Ken staring straight at the officer with his mouth open.
"Front page, this is the case of the century." Said the officer nodding.
"But I'm not a terrorist!" yelled Ken, "I didn't even have anything to do with that explosion tonight!"
The officer stood up adjusting his belt, as he pointed to his face, "This bruise would beg to differ."
"Ok," said Ken, "I punched you in the face, and admit to assaulting a police officer, but I didn't have anything to do with the explosion, especially the plane crash. My Aunt was on that plane! So was a girl in my college!"
"Funny…" said the officer, "I thought you said you didn't have any family."
Ken stamped his foot, "No! I didn't fucking mean like that… fuck…" Ken stared at the ground in disbelief.
"Look kid, if you want the slightest bit of help which I don't think you deserve for what you've done, then get some sleep, cause you're gonna need it tomorrow." Said the officer, "Now come on, time to go to your cell."
The officer slammed him in the cell and stared at him in disgust, "I hope you die in your sleep" he muttered. That didn't sound like the talk of a potential terrorist threat anymore, that sounded like a designated terrorist remark.
Ken curled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around his knees, the words constantly resounded in his head, 'Potential Terrorist Threat…'
Tears began to stream down Ken's eyes, he knew he wouldn't get to sleep tonight, he was sure of that. He only wished Sam was there beside him, he only wished he had've told her everything and that she'd be there beside him, gently stroking him and telling him it would be ok.
Just fyi, Skins is coming back for a seventh season, you should call yours 8 & 9 :)
I'm well aware that it is. But as it goes I started writing this Series before they announced there would be no Gen 4 and that there is a special series and all that, so I'm just gonna keep it how it is, thanks for the consideration though!
Skins Gen 4: Series 7 & 8 @skins-gen-4 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
