To be Heard Through the Chaos
Jasmin Linton (she/her) // Contributor
Andrei Gueco (he/him) // Illustrator
CW: mentions police violence and blood
It was a miracle Ryan could see past their own nose. Tear gas billowed out from canisters, each settling around groups of protesters with a bang, boom! It filled the air with white smoke and made Ryan’s ears ring. They dodged an incoming canister, jumping around sparks with other protesters, all scattering in different directions. The sea of dark figures with batons rumbled closer, their transparent shields glinting against the street lamps.
This was insane.
The protest had been peaceful.
No behaviour from the crowd—that they had seen—warranted such violent retaliation. Ryan grabbed the shoulder of a man that was hunched over, retching against the invasive gas. His hunched frame and white hair made Ryan all the more worried about his wellbeing, watching as his shoulders shook with each violent cough causing his keffiyeh to fall to the ground. It was quickly trampled by fleeing protesters. The roar of the barricades and the rain of pepper ball bullets intensified the chaos in the streets. Ryan leaned down to pick up the keffiyeh, trying to wipe the wrinkles and dirt away with their fingers.
This was barbaric. This man was no younger than 60, out in the streets well into the night, being trampled by the people supposed to be keeping him safe. The waves of black riot gear pulsed towards them, the rain of tear gas was still heavy. Ryan gritted their teeth, frustration and anguish pressing hard against their chest. They helped the man to the side of the street, making sure he was settled on a curb before turning back to the mob of riot shields.
“Why are you doing this?!” Ryan screamed against a wall of plastic, spit sprayed as they tried not to hit against the barrier. That only made it worse and gave the mob a reason to escalate more than they already had. “We weren’t doing anything!” they shouted again, “It was peaceful!”
The mass of police only lurched forward, Ryan’s cries were ignored as more pepper balls were hurled at the protesters. They scrambled back from the pulsing horde and tried to take cover as the shields disbursed and batons were brought out. One protester held up her middle finger as she dodged a canister of gas, her pink hair whipping against her face. Ryan could only watch in horror as she was struck by a baton, being swallowed by the police presence before falling to the ground in a heap of pink hair and red blood.
Ryan’s eyes stung with tears at the violence unfolding before them. They sprang into action trying to get to the fallen protester’s aid.
This wasn’t fair.
They had been protesting peacefully.
This violence was unprovoked.
The angry snarling mob of police wouldn’t listen. Ryan was torn between joining the protesters in beating against the shields and dreading the escalation it would surely bring. They looked around at the fallen items and the rubble scattered through the streets, something white and blue catching their eye. Ryan ran to pick it up, cradling the beaten megaphone to their chest.
Maybe this would work.
They turned on the megaphone and waited for the crackle of static to clear before bringing it up to their lips.
“Hello?? Can you even hear us in there? Behind all that armor?” Ryan’s voice cracked through the megaphone, slicing through the noise and chaos. “You call this peace? We shout until our throats are hoarse, and still you pretend not to hear. But, we’ll keep shouting. Because, silence is how you win. And, we—”
They coughed hard, choking on the tear gas, but lifted the megaphone again.
“We refuse to be silenced!”
The breathing creature of the barricade shivered against Ryan’s voice as other protesters cheered and joined in. The mob was unsure about moving forward, but too stubborn to move back. Ryan lowered the megaphone, staring into the void in front of them. Their eyes caught the glint of a single officer’s visor, no face behind it, just a hollowed void of darkness.