The Photographers Shouted (18)

No one was guilty, but the senseless vanity of Leroy intermingled with a further senseless envy, hate and opportunity of racialists. Covered by a red blanket a youth was carried to the awaiting ambulance with serum
held vertically above his head. The police were on the scene surrounding Leroy; they handcuffed him and covered him in a blanket. Leroy had streaked for his life and saved himself. Two lives were lost that day and
several injured. Others treated him like an animal and he simply behaved as a threatened animal would, self-preservation without shame. A man stuffed an equity card into Leroy’s hands as he was being led away by the police wrapped in a blanket. “Leroy!”  The photographers shouted, as they snapped for the tabloid press. A group of women keen to seize an opportunity tried to obtain his autograph. Leroy was the first black man to streak through Tooting high street, even though it was a way to preserve his life.
From his caged oppression Leroy had finally broken out to commit his first offence on humanity, naked self-expression.  His adversaries stood no chance; those that had brought the knives had suffered for their intentions. 
Leroy was detained under Sec 136 of the Mental Health Act for 60 hours in a place of safety, a tiny cell in the local police station.
    “He is simply a danger to himself and to others,” added the constable
eagerly.
   “He is what you call a schizophrenic Sir, you know loony.”
   “I suppose so, “confirmed the sergeant. Leroy’s nakedness to the world had saved his life. But it did not preserve his liberty neither his healthy state of mind neither social standing. Diagnosed as mad he was expected to live up to that expectation by the state indefinitely. Not even in the Jamaican
countryside had he experienced such naked freedom. He was restrained under the public order act and convicted for causing a riot and endangering the life of others. Fleeing naked in a built up residential area was his greatest crime against public decency. His pursuers that had died were categorised as accidental death by miss-adventure. Leroy had bated them to chase him through his concrete jungle that he was so familiar with. He knew the mind of his predators better than they knew them-selves; he engaged them in their final act of primordial fantasy. The victim and the oppressor became one in their brief spell of lunacy.