The Hate Collective by James Powell (top young adult novels .txt) 📖

pondered these questions for some time after the officer had left, before turning his mind to other things. Dejected, disappointed and angry, he called the office and left a message on the answer phone saying that he wasn’t coming to work in the morning. Didn’t give a reason why. Didn’t want to give a reason why. He was still finding it hard to fully comprehend what had happened that afternoon. Not bothering to eat, he went straight to bed and unsuccessfully tried to sleep.
Up until now, Michael had led an uneventful life. Some might even call it boring, but in a world where money, fame and power are the ultimate aspirations, and where a regular job is seen as somehow demeaning, he was happy with his lot. A sense of perspective was his greatest asset. Food on the table, a roof over his head and a few quid left over to enjoy life a little was all he ever wanted, which in this day and age, made him pretty unique. A unique everyman, if such a thing were possible. He had no overwhelming desire for material possessions, knowing that having a massive house and expensive car would have little impact on his overall happiness and quality of life. The only thing he really wished for was a wife, but he didn’t waste too much time worrying about this, preferring instead to just get on with things and let fate take its course.
His last serious relationship had broken down eighteen months ago when she left him for someone else, but unlike most people in that unenviable position, he wasn’t particularly heartbroken, and wasn’t even remotely curious about who the other man was and what had prompted her to leave. He obviously wasn’t overjoyed by the path their relationship had taken, but at least they hadn’t been married when it happened, as the shame of divorce would have been very difficult to take because Michael was the sort of old fashioned man who believed that marriage really was a lifetime commitment. Otherwise, what was the point? Even so, he had imagined a future with her and it was a future which included children, but it just wasn’t to be and that was that. No point dwelling on it. This remarkably positive attitude meant that the split was amicable, but despite the consolation prize of an offer of friendship from his girlfriend, he turned it down, having absolutely no desire to see her again as it would just be a cruel reminder of a glorious future which had once seemed so achievable, but now appeared unattainable. There was still time to meet someone though because he wasn’t even forty yet, but he might have to settle for less.
Out of some kind of masochistic curiosity, Michael had attended a speed dating event at a nearby wine bar, and much to his amazement, it wasn’t quite as hellish as he had anticipated, despite the atmosphere of quiet desperation that evening. He noticed that for a lot of people, speed dating was a last throw of the dice, a last ditch attempt to find true happiness in life, but even so, he was surprised at how normal and well adjusted most of the women appeared, even if two minutes isn’t usually enough time to notice people’s fundamental character flaws. Preconceptions challenged, he got into the spirit of the things and actually got on well with a couple of the girls, but knew that it was all a waste of time. It was just too contrived, too forced, and every conversation was exactly the same, almost word for word, so there was no chance to really get to know someone. When it was over, Michael left straight away, not bothering to hang around to find out if anyone wanted to see him again. Speed dating just wasn’t for him, although he still nurtured the hope of meeting someone to share his life with. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but in the meantime, he could tolerate his own company well enough, and his life and routine gave him sufficient satisfaction. He was, for all intents and purposes, happy.
His teenage years had been predictably average, and although he was never bullied, popularity had always eluded him. That’s not to say he didn’t have friends, it’s just that most people didn’t really notice him. He faded anonymously into the background, which wasn’t really a problem as he was never a natural attention seeker, never the kind of weak-minded individual who constantly needed to be seen. He left that role open for others to play.
Academically, he was good, but never excellent. His teachers said he had potential, but all teachers say that don’t they? What Michael didn’t realise was that in his case, it was actually true. A natural talent for maths meant that when in came to his university application, anything was possible. Even Oxbridge, the teachers said. His parents were naturally thrilled, and encouraged him as best they could, without ever being too pushy, but Michael was all too aware how much extra effort he would have to put in to even get an interview at one of the top universities, so he decided not to bother. Not to aim too high. He just didn’t want to stray too far out of his comfort zone, a trend that would continue throughout his adult life. To the eternal frustration of everyone around him, he was happy to be an underachiever.
Nevertheless, he was offered a place at Nottingham University, something which made his parents extremely proud, especially his father, who was from a generation where university education was only for the privileged few. Like Michael, he too had been naturally quite intelligent, but that didn’t matter as he was from a working class family who expected him to go straight to work once his compulsory education was over, something which, as a dutiful son, he was more than happy to do. But he had always secretly hoped that Michael would break the mould and be the first of the family to go into higher education. He was delighted when this ambition was finally realised.
Michael still kept in touch with a few of his old university colleagues, getting together every six months or so to reminisce about the good old days- the drugs, the parties, the girls, but in reality, none of them had ever been as daring as they made out. It didn’t matter though. Embellishing the past made them feel good. Was that so wrong?
The truth is, Michael actually found university life quite tedious, despite a promising start. He could still vaguely recall the excitement of living away from home for the first time and how grown up and responsible it all felt. The sudden newness of his life was eye opening, if only for a fleeting moment, as he realised that here was an opportunity to start over again and reinvent himself. He felt liberated, knowing that it was possible to create a whole new persona and be whoever he wanted to be. However, like most things, the novelty soon wore off.
Michael never wanted to change the world, but found himself surrounded by people who did. People who genuinely believed that together, they could end poverty, save the whale, save the rainforest, save the children, get rid of nuclear warheads or whatever else the flavour of the month good cause was. For the first time he became politically aware. Aware of how ridiculous the world of student politics was.
He was even persuaded to go on a demonstration, by a girl who lived in the same hall of residence. It was a march against missiles or something, and Michael agreed to go, not because of any deeply held moral reasons, but because she was pretty and he wanted to get on her good side. Nothing ever came of it of course, but it was worth a try.
The demonstration itself was well attended, and Michael really tried to muster up some enthusiasm, hoping to feel like part of the group, but he couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that it was all a massive waste of time and that their actions would have zero impact on the political process. It would always be that way. Michael felt vindicated twenty years later when a million people marched to stop the war in Iraq, yet the government went ahead and did it anyway.
The actual business of studying maths didn’t really inspire Michael either. He found the course enjoyable enough, but it didn’t motivate him to excel, so he ended up leaving with a 2:1, which was a pretty good result, but he could have easily done better. He just wasn’t prepared to put the hours in, but even so, it was a respectable degree from a respectable university so there was at least some sense of achievement for Michael to enjoy. But he didn’t want to devote any more time to academia, so left straight away, unsure of what to do next, having acquired a degree, a few friends and a handful of memories for his endeavours. A fair exchange for three years of life?
After leaving university, Michael moved seamlessly into the world of work, more specifically, the world of office work, and was hired straight away by a medium sized company which provided data analysis for other businesses, as well as general advice, and even though the starting salary was modest, there were always going to be opportunities to climb the greasy pole.
Many people find the corporate life unbearable, but Michael felt at home for the first time in his life. Working with other people towards a common goal gave him purpose and meaning, which he had never really expected from a job. Number crunching, spreadsheets, presentations- that was his art form and he loved it, and now, after years of steady progress up the career ladder, he was now doing pretty well for himself, although he was well aware that there was very little chance of him going much further. It’s not that he wasn’t popular at work- even the glamorous work experience girls had a soft spot for him, it’s just that he wasn’t a natural leader. He didn’t inspire much confidence, respect or admiration from his peers, which meant that heading up a team was simply out of the question.
None of that really mattered though as Michael had never held any boardroom aspirations, nor did he relish the thought of extra responsibility and accountability. He was happy to be a cog in the machine, albeit a cog with a thirty grand a year salary and a half decent pension, none of which could hid the fact that in all his years on this earth, he had never once been out of his comfort zone. Until now. Pretty soon, Michael would forget that his comfort zone ever existed.
The following days and weeks were inevitably very difficult, as Michael struggled to cope with what had happened. He sought solace in the company of friends, hoping for reassurance and compassion, but found that most of them were pretty unsympathetic and even a little cold. Some of them had been mugged before, several times even, yet it was regarded as an everyday occurrence and nothing to lose sleep over. ‘It’s just a part of modern life’ they would say, ‘and sooner or later it’s bound to happen. We’re just amazed that it took so long.’
Michael found this attitude quite shocking, and wondered when it was that robbery became acceptable. Nobody had told him. However, one of his more sensitive friends, reading between the lines, knew that Michael was still shaken up about the whole thing and so privately suggested some form of counselling or group support, which didn’t really appeal, as he reasoned that no amount of therapy could undo what had happened. Nothing could erase the memory of that afternoon