The Patriots

CHAPTER 3 (THE HOOD)

"The boy in the hood," as he was referred to by anyone who came across him, lived in the ghetto with his father. His father was also well known in the ghetto as man whom people say killed his own wife in their own house. People swore that the house was haunted and the man was cursed. He was always seen drunk and he was known to be violent too.

Kelvin, was the name of the boy who was always in the hood. Hiding from the world because if they knew who he really was, they would shun him, make fun of him and call him the haunted kid, instead of the boy in the hood. He also kind of liked the nick name he was given. At least, it made him feel more real, it made him feel like he really existed.

Kelvin, before and during the rebellion had no friends. He just watched the kids play from a distance, hoping one day he would live a normal life, just like them. He was not all that strange or antisocial. His seclusion from the world all started after his mom died and when the rumours begun.

He could sit all day, having flash backs of his early childhood. He remembered how it was like in elementary school, even though it was a bit blurry. He recalled having a few friends who probably could not recognize him now. He also had dreams of his own which he could barely put together now because literally, he had no life. He was physically and emotionally locked out from the world and it was all his father's fault.

Kelvin's life, face and story was a mystery to everyone, except the rumours. The only thing people knew about 'the boy in the hood', was the rumour that he lived in a haunted house with a cursed father.

There were people who tried to get closer to him though. People who were very curious about him but scared to the core and could not even get closer to him. They would just want to steal a glance at his face or hear him speak, as if he spoke to anyone.

Some would just stare at him from a distance. Some also thought he had fangs and claws, so they never ventured close to him. Sometimes he would get so uncomfortable that, he wouldn't even leave his house for more than a week. He would just peep through the window for a view, even though there was not much to see from his house.

Amongst the hand full of the scared but curious kids who wanted to know Kelvin so badly was Cecilia. She was the only one who got closest to him. Not that she wasn't scared, I bet you she was the person who was scared the most, but also the one who was the most curious.

She would sometimes pretend to have dropped something in front of Kelvin and in picking it up, would attempt to steal just a little glance at his face. It always ended in failure.

"Sooo frustrating," she would groan and roll her eyes. "I should just mind my own business," she would add and leave. She never gave up though. She tried again, and again, and again, hoping one day she would succeed. She would sometimes say "hi" with her most angelic voice and pretty little eyes but she got no reply, not even a little glance.

"Who is she?" Kelvin  would sometimes ask himself. He knew her name, yes, he heard it so many times but he wanted to know who she really was and why she was so interested in seeing his face. "Just to satisfy her curiousity and spread more rumours," he would let out a bitter chuckle. He still wanted to know her, they could be friends, maybe. He would sometimes fantasise about being a normal kid and having a lot of friends to play with. Too bad for him though, he was stuck in his dark world.

When the rebellion begun, of course, his house was counted out of the selection. He wasn't surprised though, and he was, for the first time in his life,  grateful that he lived in a so called 'haunted house'. He hated the rebels, the bloodshed and the destruction. It reminded him of what his dad did to his mom. It was an accident though, but he was too young to experience that. It will be a scar he would have to live with all his life.

He felt pity for Charles. He saw everything and heard everything. The hood also gave him some form of invisibility which he liked. He could walk around the ghetto but the rebels would pay no attention to him. He knew Charles was part of the rebels now. He also knew Charles was Cecilia's best friend.

Just like Charles, he had a monster as a father. He could relate with him. ''If we had a normal life, he would have been the brother I never had,'' Kelvin said to himself. He was always dreaming of the possibilities of living a different kind of life, but looking at his options, he would shake his head and say, "Es imposible."

Kelvin would sometimes notice Charles looking through Cecilia's window. He was baffled when he found himself praying that the day Cecilia found out about Charles, she would understand him. He hated his dad and Charles' dad as well, because to him, they were no different from each other.

Kelvin would think of ways and means to help Charles but he also knew they were just thoughts; his own little fantasies and daydream, because in reality, there was nothing he could do to help. Charles didn't even know him. Well, he knew 'the boy in the hood' but he didn't know who he really was.

"It's his life now," Kelvin murmured, "his destiny, just like mine. No one can change it and no one can save us."
They do say, "We make our own destiny and with determination and discipline, nothing is impossible."

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