Tonight was the night that Reagan was coming to Berlin to do his speech and visit the Reichstag and all sorts. However, our plan wasn't to try kill or hurt him, we were simply protesting. It's our human right, you know; a freedom of speech, that's what they say, don't they? I had gotten around in the last few days and from my knowledge, a lot of people were going to be demonstrating their freedom of speech tonight. I was catching up with a few new mates and then we would leave for the city centre and go through Kurfurstendamm. Granted, a few of us would be taken down or put in jail, but nothing good comes without a price, right?

I slipped on my black hoody, zipping it up to the top and throwing the hood over my head. A couple of knocks at the door brought my attention back to the present.

"I'll get it!" I shouted through the flat, hearing a couple of 'okay's from the various members of my family. They had no clue what I was doing, and I didn't want them speaking to the gang to find out. Leaving my room, I went to the front door, twisted the lock and pulled it open. There stood my gang. Or at least our little gang which contributed towards a much bigger gang. There were five of them standing their, all dressed in dark clothes with the mask concealing their faces, but I could tell they were all smirking towards me.

"Ready?" Adam said, standing at the front, pushing the mask up on top of his head, and smirking, like I said.

"Of course. Just give me a moment, I'll meet you down there in a few minutes." They nodded and walked away, down the stairs towards the entrance of the block of flats which I lived in. Leaving the door open, I went into the living room to kiss each one of my family on the head, laughing as my cousin cried out with 'ew' and desperately wiped his head clean, before going back into my room.

"Where are you off to?" Called my uncle. He was always the curious one.

"Just going out with a few mates. Won't be home late, I promise." Walking over to my desk, I looked to the mask sitting face up, staring at me. The black ski mask that symbolised out gang. The black ski mask that shamed our gang. The black ski mask which claimed that you were from the Anonymous.

I met the gang down in front of the building, pulling the mask down over my face as Adam did the same. We walked down the street, keeping our heads down from any passer by, but it wasn't needed that much since it was already getting dark and our hoods hid a portion of our masks. But still, we needed to keep in the dark, or people would start concerning themselves in our business.

Nearing the end of the street, we entered an ally way that led to the next street full of the apartment blocks, just like the previous street had been. A few shops still had their lights on, probably would be open for another hour or two, but a lot were now shutting. We finally reached the city centre and it was impressive indeed. I had only been a couple times, but each time it inspired me. It was a wide road with hundreds of cars parked down one side next to the path lit by the occasional street lamp and cuddled by trees, and on the other side, a similar path, but with huge shops and buildings and apartments. We could already see a few other gangs in alleyways and standing amongst the trees, though not all were from the Anonymous, some were mere Green Party representatives. We walked a bit further and gathered around a street light, keeping watch on the other groups, and occasionally looking at the time. Half an hour.

The time seemed to go so slowly, we didn't talk, or discuss what we were going to do, we just stood, and well, I looked at the others in my gang, only just noticing that a couple of them carried rucksacks on their back, of what, I do not know. Maybe spray paint or something. I didn't dare ask though. Although we were a gang, and were reasonably friendly towards each other, me and Adam especially; the others I didn't quite know as well, that didn't mean they wouldn't snap or make a move at you if you said the wrong thing, just like any other street gang I guess. But we were more than a simple street gang protesting about someone standing on our land. We were out to get freedom and make things right. That's what they had told me anyway.

10 minutes to go and people were starting to arrive and join together. So that's what we did. Glancing to groups around us, we started to move closer to them, nodding once before moving onto the street, side by side. Seems no one was waiting for the time. We all stood together and began marching. Marching down the street of Kurfurstendamm. Some of us held banners and placards with slogans written all over them. Some just marched, arms linked with their comrades. Some shouted and punched the air. I walked by myself in the middle of the growing crowd for the time being; no need to rush into things.

A few minutes into our march and I couldn't count how many of us there were but it was thousands, all walking down the street, which obviously caught the attention of people. But also the attention of the police. They had begun filing out with all their riot gear, plastic shields, clubs and all. They first formed lines either side of the street, seeming to allow us to go through. I guess it was because we weren't doing any harm, or perhaps because they were letting us think we were winning for a moment before crushing us.

The next few minutes confirmed my latter theory.

The police started joining together to make a sort of protective barrier across the street, blocking our way, and vans started arriving, parking at the sides, behind the police. People all around me began marching faster and faster and soon they were running around, some trying to even run through the policemen wall. They started marching forwards, taking their clubs out on anyone trying to push through them or attack their own, and trying to surround and cage us like mice.

Then a sudden heat burned my face and body and I turned round quickly, noticing I had completely frozen in the middle of the street, and saw a car, alight with orange screaming flames and dark crying smoke pouring out of the windows. I looked around me, my heart racing, what was going on? 10 cars were already on fire, bottles were being smashed everywhere, even thrown at the police, and people were now smashing the shop windows.

"Lukas, come on!" A voice screamed at me and I turned to see Adam staring at me, confused. "What are you doing, just standing there?!" I blinked a few times and shook my head.

"Nothing." I murmured.

"Exactly! Here take this, throw it in that car over there." He gave me a bottle with some sort of tissue in the top from a rucksack he now carried and brought out a lighter from his pocket, lighting the top of the tissue. "Throw it!" He yelled before running off to a shop, throwing an empty bottle through the window.

Glancing down to the bottle in my hand, I had a sudden realisation of what it was, and immediately threw it over to the car. As it contacted the windscreen, it exploded and burst into flames, seeping into the cars engine. I stared at the fire. It looked like it was trying to escape itself, moving faster and faster away from where the bottle hit the car. And soon, it got into the petrol tank.

The explosion threw me onto the floor, my head spinning and my ears shrieking as I stared at the sky. And soon, instead of the skin, a robot like policeman threw me onto my stomach, pulling my arms behind me and sitting on my waist as he tied my hands up. I could here him shouting something at me but everything was muffled. Standing back up, he pulled me onto my feet and began dragging me towards one of the vans. I looked around me, everyone was either fleeing, in a fight or being beaten up by the police or being a mirror image of me; defeated and being dragged off to a van.

The guy opened the back doors, and threw me in the van, falling face first into the floor, a slight groan of pain escaping my lips.

"Get up and sit down." He demanded before slamming the doors shut. My legs moved, my head moved, my shoulders moved, but with my hands behind my back, I was getting nowhere.

An arm reached down, reaching through the gap between my body and elbow and yanked me up onto my knees, and from there I could shuffle onto the bench at either side of the van. I glanced to the guy who had pulled me up; a 30ish year old with a kind smile and eyes with a graze on his forehead and his face scuffed with dirt. His hands were free so he pulled my mask off my face, tossing it onto the floor.

"Good evening, I'm Nikolai. Want me to undo those handcuffs of yours?"