Would you knock a man down,

If you don't like the cut of his clothes?

Could you put a man away,

If you don't want to hear what he knows?

Well, it's happening right here,

People dying of fear by the droves

-Stephen Sills, 'Word Game'

Jack was in the shower, watching the red water going down the drain. It was Monday morning and he was expected to return to school. He had spent the entire weekend in bed. He felt unlike himself. He had hardly spoken, hardly made any noise at all. It was as if he had become too afraid to make a sound, worried that it would bring the men with guns to his home; afraid he'd hear the gunfire, that he'd feel the shake of the ground, that he'd feel the burn of an explosion. The doctor had been called out but had informed the family that Jack had gotten off very lightly. He supposed that was meant to make him feel better, but it didn't.

During his time in bed, his sister Joanna had entered and told him some of what the news had been saying. Thousands had died. "We've been betrayed," she had said emotionlessly, brushing a pale hand through long red hair as she sat at the end of his bed, "the east and the west have divided. The East have attacked us. They were helped by America. They're saying we are evil."

"But what did we do?" Jack whispered, "so many people died horribly."

She shrugged, "we want freedom from the Government. Daddy says that our side saw it as making ourselves new and free, but the other side see it as us rebelling and forming a dictatorship."

Jack shuddered. He didn't understand politics. For the first time, he dearly wished he had paid more attention to school.

"Daddy says you need to change your appearance," she said, "you need to take out your hair dye. It will look better if you become more conservative and less western."

"Mom is a westerner," he insisted, "and she's dyes her hair blonde. And mom, you and Judy all have naturally red hair. Why should I have to be the odd one out?"

"You look like daddy."

Jack remained quiet. Joanna was fiercely loyal to father. He did not want to tell her that he did everything in his power to not look like their father. He'd always been jealous that his sisters had taken after their exotic Russian mother, but he looked Chinese like his dad. He looked boring and conservative where they looked wild and different.

Joanna stood. "You are to wash out the dye and remove your facial markings. Judy and I shall dye our hair black. It's better that we fit in. Daddy wants you in school Monday. He says he did not raise his only son to be a layabout."

Now, he stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the steamed mirror. He had pale skin, black hair and a gawky expression. His skin was paler than most Asians, but that was because he was bi-racial. His sisters were the same. His geeky, unattractive features were now emphasised by how bland and ordinary he was. "I look so boring now." He thought. He remembered what Ashley had said about them living in North Korea. He felt as if they were. He looked like everyone else now.

Jack hated it.

Downstairs the entire family were eating a traditional Chinese breakfast. It was ridiculous. Deciding he wanted no part in their charade, Jack walked straight out and began heading to school. Normally he would drive his car, but father had removed the wheels so that was no longer an option. Plus, he had to start obeying the rules of the land now.

Normally the streets were filled with students all wearing the same uniform as himself. But this morning there were very few. Those who were out were walking like zombies, slowly and painfully. He was one of them. Despite what the doctor said he felt very, very sore. Most of his body was bruised and grazed and bandaged in some way. He would be taking pain medication for at least a month. He was sure that more rest time had been needed, but Father would never allow for that.

Inside the classroom half the students were missing. Jack went to an international school, so a lot of the kids were English-speaking. But today most of the foreign children were gone. He wondered if they were too afraid to leave their homes. Surely people would be feeling resentful and angry towards foreigners? He decided that perhaps father's plan for them all to fit in more wasn't such a stupid idea.

He leaned his hand against his cheek before yelping. A large bandage covered it. But looking around the near empty room he couldn't help feeling the doctor was right.

At least he was still here.

The sounds of screams and rat-tat of gunfire poured into his brain. He shut his eyes tightly and willed them into silence by humming his favourite techno dubstep beat into it instead. He kept having nightmares, sometimes even in the day, and this was the only way to stop an impending attack.

He supposed that he had some sort of post traumatic stress disorder but wasn't sure. He didn't want to ask his father to send him to a psychiatrist. That would be too humiliating as doubtless father would use it as another example of Jack's weakness.

The classroom door opened and instead of the usual miserable face of Mr Cole, a young woman entered. She was wearing what looked like a military outfit.

"There have been many changes," she said, without announcing who she was first, "and we need to be strong. Therefore, our great and wise leader has decided to create a new national anthem, one that will inspire and encourage us through our dark hours. From now on, you are all loyal to the country of Western China, even if you were not born here. Please all stand. Now put your hands on your hearts. See this?" she hung up a flag on the classroom board, "this is our flag. This is a new flag, also designed by our brilliant leader. This is our flag. You are loyal to this flag. Now, what are you loyal to?"

"The flag," muttered the class, some looking at each other anxiously.

"This is all wrong," thought Jack anxiously, "isn't this, like, indoctrination or something?"

"Again," cried the woman, "what are you loyal to?"

"The flag," answered the children, this time in unison.

"Good. Now we are going to learn the new anthem." She put a portable player on the table and pressed play.

"Dear Leader

How we love thee

In our land so fair

We are loyal to thee

Though our enemies bear down on us

We will fight bravely on

In our great leader and mighty land we trust

To die for you dear leader

Is the greatest gift we could give

And to die for you dear leader

Is the greatest gift we could receive."

She played the song over and over again for about twenty minutes, before getting them to sing along. Period one and two, for everyone in the school, was learning this anthem. It was simple and droning, drumming its way into your head without ever sounding actually inspiring. Hands on hearts, their eyes focused on the flag, they sung again and again, as outside fighter jets zoomed across the blue skies.

xxXXxx

Around the school large posters were being put up. There were two types, one was of their flag with the slogan, 'Live for the Leader, Die for the Country.' The other was the picture of their leader, looking out into the distance. It was a bit like the old Obama 'We Can' portrait, only there was no slogan for their Ruler.

Over the break as they walked slowly to the cafeteria, the new national anthem played over and over again on the school speakers.

Walking past the cafeteria without buying anything (seemed hardly anyone was eating as, for the first time ever, there wasn't a queue to buy anything) he saw many groups of children huddled together comforting each other. It wasn't just that a lot of children were staying home for fear of the classmates' wrath, it was that on the day of the bombs almost everyone had been in town; many of his classmates were dead. Jack knew from the news that bodies were still being found under the rubble.

Cliques didn't seem to exist anymore. One group of girls stood together. One was a very popular girl called Xin. She was weeping heavily and bitterly. In her hand she gripped a silly little teddy bear. The bear grinned up at Jack. All around Xin were girls, many who were distinctly unpopular, hugging and whispering words to her. No one cared about cliques because what did all that matter when your world was ending?

Jack wondered what the teddy bear meant. Who did it belong to? Who had bought it? Who had caused such bitter tears?

He walked outside, desperate for air.

"Hey...Jack."

He turned slowly to see Ashley suddenly standing by his side. Tears welled up.

She was alive!

Ashley looked bad. Bruises and scratches were on her face and hands. The rest of her body was covered up. Normally Ashley broke all the school rules and wore her uniform short and revealing, if she bothered wearing uniform clothes at all. But today she wore a knee-length navy blue dress, a long-sleeved shirt buttoned up and her navy blazer.

Jack tried to open his mouth, but suddenly he didn't know what to say.

"It took me a while to recognise you," she said at length, "you almost look normal. It's weird seeing you being all conventional."

He glanced away and looked at the playground. It looked like a group of lads were arguing. He squinted his eyes. Who would want to fight and argue now? Wasn't there enough unhappiness and violence?

"My mom wants us to leave," Ashley said, evidently determined to fill the silence, "she's frightened here. The weekend was bad enough with...with me being hurt...but then they threw things at the house. They smashed the windows and a big group of men nearly smashed through the door."

Jack tensed, listening closely.

"It's because we're American-born. Daddy is trying to get in touch with the American Embassy, see if we can get away. I didn't want to come to school but they insisted. Normally my parents can't make me do anything I don't want to," (Jack knew that to be the truth) "but I'm so tired. I just did as I was told."

Jack nodded, understanding.

The fight in front of them broke out. They could hear voices rising.

"Look, I'm just saying that this is a losing battle!" one boy was shouting. "I can't see how we can beat them! America is on their side, and soon Britain will join in because they always do!"

"There are talks of a change," argued another boy, "their country is going through a presidential change which could change what side they're on. We're no threat to anyone."

"Neither was Vietnam!"

"It's all the East's fault," argued a third boy, "none of these other countries matter. We need to eliminate the East."

"Hey, I have family out there!" shouted another girl her voice shaking with emotion, "I don't want any more death!"

"Oh stop being a child," sneered another girl, "of course there will be more death."

"Look this is crazy," said the boy who first spoke, "and what if the other side are right? What if we are in a dictatorship? Think about it, no one can leave, we all feel pressured to look the same suddenly, distrust is soaring and now we have this new flag and song?"

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment. Jack gulped anxiously. Everyone was staring at the boy. The boy himself seemed to realise at once that he had said too much, he turned very pale and began to shake slightly.

"That's about supporting our country!" began one boy in response, disgust in his voice, "are you saying we shouldn't be proud of who we are or our great Leader?!"

"I bet you are on their side aren't you!"

"What?" the original boy said, "no, no I'm not. I'm just saying-" but before he could finish his sentence one of the students ran forward and punched him in the face. At once, all the built up grief and resentment and anger poured out, and the children all piled upon the one boy.

Ashley screamed and Jack felt ice shoot up his spine. Ashley was shaking him and screaming, "we need to help him!" She was weeping, "we need to help him! I can't take this anymore!"

But Jack, feeling like his was underwater, all his movements slow and his hearing impaired, could only shake his head. What could he do?

Ashley continued to scream.

A few kids stumbled away from the violence, looking stunned. They had blood on them. Ashley promptly threw up and Jack ran, a spurt of adrenaline overcoming the aches of his body. He hurtled through the doors into the canteen and grabbed a member of staff, "He's dying!" he cried shaking the teacher's lapels, "they're gonna kill him!"

But the teacher just looked at him blankly. Jack realised that the member of staff was another person from the Government, and that this person had most likely heard, if not seen, the entire argument. But he was not going to save that boy.

Jack stepped backwards, afraid of the man's dead eyes.

Then he ran outside again. But it was too late. The boy was lying in a puddle of blood. He looked like a broken doll. Ashley was on the floor, crying heavily. Students, covered in smatterings of blood, were either crying or slumped in shock of their own actions.

He could see some of them thinking, working out a way to justify their brutality. One of the boys, the one who had initiated the bloodbath, looked up at Jack. Then his eyes, as dead as the Government agent's, slowly moved to take in Ashley.

Jack looked at her and felt his heart stop for a moment when he realised how she looked. Ashley had pale skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. She looked American. He grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet and running back indoors with her.

Ashley's mom was right; she and the family would need to leave and soon or else they'd all be killed.