Friday, 21st July, 2006, Front page of The Daily Mirror Newspaper.
"IS THIS PROOF OF A BROKEN CULTURE?"
"Late last night, the first trickles of information came in, the first reports that the UK's first battle royale came to a close. Included in these reports was the information that 43 students from St Augustine's Of Canterbury School have died, and that only one student has survived, 16 year old Lucy Hather. The rest of the students have been reported to have killed each other, in a horrible display of teenage violence. (See pages 3 & 4 for details)
The program was introduced as a solution to the myriad of problems that plague modern Britain. The government quickly passed the law allowing it following the incredible results in Japan and the US. In the US alone, the total amount of crimes committed by under 20's has reduced by almost 60%, In Japan, where the program has been running since 1998, the percentage of crimes committed by under 20's is a mere 9%. The law was suggested in the House of Commons only nine months ago, by an up and coming MP for the labour party, Harold Saxon. Within two months-: More on pages, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 & 7.
Three Years Later
The carer slowly walked down the plain white corridor, passing door after door, all identical. He moved at a brisk pace, and carried in his hands a tray of tablets, and a cup filled with watered down orange juice. The man finally reached the door he was heading to. He paused for a moment, and looked inside the room, through the mesh protected window which was at his eye level. Inside was a sparse, empty room, with only a bed, a bedside table, and a desk and chair. There was clutter over the desk, paper with scribbles and sketches. On the bed lay a man, staring up at the ceiling, His hair was untidy and unwashed, he had a few days stubble growth on his face, and his clothes were creased. The opened the room, and stepped in, the man on the bed looked up.
"What now?" He asked, surprisingly quietly, and then he dropped his head back onto the bed.
"Come on now, Neil, you've got to take your dose, you know this." The carer placed the cup of juice and the tablets on the bedside table. Neil didn't even move his head.
"What's the point; they won't make me feel any better. They're bullshit" The carer leaned against the desk, and smiled.
"Come on, don't get like this. I've been told to get you to take them. And you know you'll only feel worse if you don't take them." Neil sat up from the bed, leaning on his elbows behind him, and he looked at the carer for a moment.
"Fine. I'll do it." Neil swung his legs around and sat fully upright. He quickly took two tablets out of the tray and quickly swallowed them without using the juice.
"Not a fan of the juice?" The carer smiled, Neil shook his head.
"No, tastes like plastic." The carer leaned over and picked up the tray.
"Might as well have it, dinners not for another couple of hours." Neil grunted, and down the contents of the cup in one. He handed it to the carer, and then he swung his legs back onto the bed, and resumed staring at the ceiling. The carer moved to the door, and then left. Neil stared at the ceiling for some time. Then, he felt woozy, and quite sleepy. The last thought before he passed out was that he hated drowsy medication.