David Moody - Hater

Liz crouches down in front of Ellis and brushes a strand of hair away from her face.

Ill take her back to bed, she whispers as she carefully slides her arms underneath her and lifts her up. Ellis mumbles and shuffles but she doesnt wake up. Harry and I watch as she carries her away. Harry then walks around and sits down in the middle of the sofa where hes probably been sitting all evening. I lay Josh down on my lap.

So tell me again, he says quietly, what exactly did happen?

I sit down next to him and kick off my shoes.

I dont know any more than what Ive already told you. A group of blokes lynched a Hater, thats all. Evil bastard probably deserved everything he got. Then the bus was late and a road was closed and

Harry nods his head, sighs and rubs his eyes. He looks tired.

I dont know whats going on out there, he says quietly. Anyway, Im glad youre back. I had a feeling you might have some trouble tonight. Im about to ask him what he means when he grabs the remote control and turns up the volume on the TV. Been watching the news since the childrens programmes finished, he explained. Things are getting out of control.

I turn my attention from Harry to the TV. Theres been no let up in the level of trouble across the country. On the news theyre talking about an exponential increase in incidents. Mathematics was never my strongest subject at school but I know what they mean. One incident becomes two, two becomes four, four becomes eight and it goes on and on until Jesus, wheres this going to end?

Theres a definite change in the way the reporters on TV are talking about whats happening tonight. Theyre concentrating on the people - the so-called Haters - who seem to be at the root of all the troubles. Theyre stressing that its only a very small minority who have been affected but theyre warning the public to stay away from anyone who appears to be behaving erratically. Bloody hell, thats half the population of this town on a good day.

Its like a disease, Harry says. Crazy, isnt it? Its spreading just like a disease.

Someone better hurry up and find a cure then, I mutter under my breath, still staring at the screen.

They keep saying that all of this is down to just a few people, you know, he continues, repeating what Ive already heard. When it gets them, whatever it is, it drives them mad. They had some doctor on talking about it earlier. Its the first few minutes you have to watch out for.

What? I mumble, only half-listening.

When it gets them they lose control, like that chap you saw tonight I expect. They just lash out at whoever or whatevers around them. Then they say they start to calm down. Theyre still capable of doing these things, but theyre not quite so volatile.

What is he talking about?

What do you mean, not quite so volatile? I ask him. Are you saying theyll only do enough to hospitalise you and not kill you?

Im only telling you what Ive heard, he sighs. I wont bother if youre going to be like that.

I shake my head and look back at the TV. The screen is filled with images of convoys of troops driving into a city centre somewhere. Not sure where it is but its nowhere I recognise. The reporters are talking about the police and armed forces being used to full capacity and I think back to the TV debate we watched last night. Have we reached the saturation point they were talking about yet? The voices on the TV are taking great pains to stress that, although stretched, the authorities are still coping. Just. Christ, imagine what will happen if this thing gets any bigger and they cant cope. Bloody hell, it doesnt bare thinking about.

The screen shows a stream of government statistics and I lose interest. I dont believe statistics. Theyre all made up. They can make statistics say whatever they want.

Problem is, Harry says, theyve let it get out of control. This is too little, too late.

It? I say. Whats it supposed to be?

He points at the screen.

The trouble, he answers, the violence the people.

The statistics have gone and were left watching footage of a row of burning houses. Desperate, screaming people are being held back by a police blockade. All they can do is watch as their lives go up in flames.

Whats happening, he whispers secretively, is people are panicking and overreacting to the slightest thing because of what theyre seeing and what theyre being told. The whole situation has been allowed to get out of proportion. People are seeing the death and the destruction on the television and its making them want to become a part of it too. Its like those bloody awful horror films that you and Lizzie watch. They make you want to do things. They put ideas in your head and they make you think its all right to do things. Theyre even giving these people a label now. Calling them Haters for Gods sake. Theyre glamorising it. Almost makes it sound like a club youd want to join, doesnt it?

Hes saying the same kind of things I was saying just yesterday. But Ive already begun to accept that I was wrong, and when I look at the TV screen tonight Im even more sure that Id misjudged the situation badly when I was rambling last night. The sheer scale of whats happening is really beginning to scare me now. They keep talking about small minorities but thousands, possibly even tens of thousands of people are involved in this violence. Hundreds of lives are affected by every incident in some way. Young, old, male, female people from every section of society are involved. This is far more than just paranoia. This is more than the media stirring things up.

I dont want to join any club, I tell him, and no-ones put any ideas in my head. I havent started any fights. Im no more going to go out and attack anyone than you or Lizzie are.

I know that. Weve got maturity and common-sense on our side though, havent we? We know the difference between right and wrong. We know whats acceptable and what isnt.