self-imposed exile, she truly thought that she couldn’t face another day. Couldn’t find the will to rise from her bed. The only reason she did at all was to be the anchor her father needed to prevent himself being washed away on a tide of grief. At that time, Michelle couldn’t imagine ever going back to school again. Ever being normal, having fun again. Finally, she’d returned to school motivated, following the pinpoint prick of light… of hope that her friends would help her return to a normal life – as normal as it could be, at any rate. Instead she’d met ridicule and abuse at the words, fists and feet of the people she’d imagined would be her support.
The first year had been the worst. The beatings, the circle around her chanting vile accusations, judgements and names at her and her father; nutcase… spastic… Quasimodo… Their inventiveness and cruelty had shocked her for so long. Of course, with recent events in Edinburgh, Heather had decided that Michelle’s dad deserved the new nickname of zombie . Michelle had begged the school to help her but, aside from a few warnings to her tormentors, they seemed powerless or uninterested in helping. Now Michelle merely endured passively the beatings and the insults that still came her way, although less often, and hid the bruises from her father.
Two things kept Michelle sane: looking after her father and running. Her mother had been a long-distance athlete participating in many endurance trials like Tough Mudder and Iron-Woman events. Whatever genes her mum had possessed to make her ideal of build and mentality for endurance sports, she’d passed an amplified version of them to her daughter. Michelle was on the gymnastics team, the cross country squad and the judo team, some at county level, and international for running.
She would run the Lanarkshire streets and parks for hours, losing herself in memories and dreams. The repeated footfall strengthened her mind as much as it did her body, perhaps more so. Running was her solution to everything at present.
“See you after school, MacLeod.” Heather spat at her feet.
Michelle merely nodded. Great…
Chapter 2
November
2020
dEaDINBURGH: First Broadcast
“It’s coming on, Chelle,” Darcie yelled, a few flecks of popcorn spraying onto the couch.
Michelle yelled in from the next room.
“’Kay.”
Pulling off the battered running shoes she’d been wearing, Michelle wiped herself down with a gym towel. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she plonked herself onto the sofa beside her flatmate.
“I can’t believe that they’re actually going through with the broadcast,” Michelle said.
Darcie shrugged. “Of course they are. You didn’t think that a little thing like morals or hundreds of thousands of people protesting in George Square would change their minds, did you?”
Michelle grinned bitterly at the sarcasm.
She and Darcie had been present at the massive protest against the decision to broadcast the newest UKBC show . Almost since formation, the UKBC was, by a huge margin, the largest broadcaster in the world after absorbing the former BBC, Sky, ITV and US-based HBO networks. Its newest show had been proposed as a possible venture for the fledgling, gargantuan broadcast company at its inaugural board meeting.
Thanks to the bewildering interest of a voyeuristic general public, some very strategic spin from the UKBC marketing director and funded by a compulsory monthly license fee enforced by the state that proposal was now reality. Tonight was the premier of what many people thought was the single vilest display of exploitation and cruelty the world had seen. Unfortunately, many, many more people were actually thrilled at the concept and had whirled themselves into a state of unprecedented excitement over it.
dEaDINBURGH was about to air. Not a single episode had been broadcast; only that dreadful upper/lower case logo had appeared, along with a
The first year had been the worst. The beatings, the circle around her chanting vile accusations, judgements and names at her and her father; nutcase… spastic… Quasimodo… Their inventiveness and cruelty had shocked her for so long. Of course, with recent events in Edinburgh, Heather had decided that Michelle’s dad deserved the new nickname of zombie . Michelle had begged the school to help her but, aside from a few warnings to her tormentors, they seemed powerless or uninterested in helping. Now Michelle merely endured passively the beatings and the insults that still came her way, although less often, and hid the bruises from her father.
Two things kept Michelle sane: looking after her father and running. Her mother had been a long-distance athlete participating in many endurance trials like Tough Mudder and Iron-Woman events. Whatever genes her mum had possessed to make her ideal of build and mentality for endurance sports, she’d passed an amplified version of them to her daughter. Michelle was on the gymnastics team, the cross country squad and the judo team, some at county level, and international for running.
She would run the Lanarkshire streets and parks for hours, losing herself in memories and dreams. The repeated footfall strengthened her mind as much as it did her body, perhaps more so. Running was her solution to everything at present.
“See you after school, MacLeod.” Heather spat at her feet.
Michelle merely nodded. Great…
Chapter 2
November
2020
dEaDINBURGH: First Broadcast
“It’s coming on, Chelle,” Darcie yelled, a few flecks of popcorn spraying onto the couch.
Michelle yelled in from the next room.
“’Kay.”
Pulling off the battered running shoes she’d been wearing, Michelle wiped herself down with a gym towel. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she plonked herself onto the sofa beside her flatmate.
“I can’t believe that they’re actually going through with the broadcast,” Michelle said.
Darcie shrugged. “Of course they are. You didn’t think that a little thing like morals or hundreds of thousands of people protesting in George Square would change their minds, did you?”
Michelle grinned bitterly at the sarcasm.
She and Darcie had been present at the massive protest against the decision to broadcast the newest UKBC show . Almost since formation, the UKBC was, by a huge margin, the largest broadcaster in the world after absorbing the former BBC, Sky, ITV and US-based HBO networks. Its newest show had been proposed as a possible venture for the fledgling, gargantuan broadcast company at its inaugural board meeting.
Thanks to the bewildering interest of a voyeuristic general public, some very strategic spin from the UKBC marketing director and funded by a compulsory monthly license fee enforced by the state that proposal was now reality. Tonight was the premier of what many people thought was the single vilest display of exploitation and cruelty the world had seen. Unfortunately, many, many more people were actually thrilled at the concept and had whirled themselves into a state of unprecedented excitement over it.
dEaDINBURGH was about to air. Not a single episode had been broadcast; only that dreadful upper/lower case logo had appeared, along with a
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