The Patriots

CHAPTER 4 (THE POSTERS)

COLOMBIA 2015
The rebellion has been going on for a year now. Every move made by the government to fight against the rebels have failed. The rebels were now blood drunk and crazy rich with all the wealth they had stolen from the rich. The part that most people found unbelievable was that, upon all the wealth the rebels were able to steal, they never left the ghetto, neither did they use the money to the benefit of the ghetto people. They just hid the money, hoarding it till they could buy new sets of ammunition.

You know that thing about being a drunk or a junkie, you get addicted and yearn for more. You never get satisfied. You can't stop drinking or using drugs, until it completely consumes you, until you die of addiction. That was what happened in the case of the rebels. The rebels yearned for more riches, more blood shed, more destruction, until they started planning to expand their rampage to other parts of Colombia.

The central government on the other hand, sort another way to deal with the rebels. It needed to grow a secret army and with that, the rebels would not even know what hit them. The government secret agency begun work on how to bring the rebels down.

It was a bright Thursday morning and Cecilia woke up, as usual, going about her normal status quo, living her boring life. There was not much to see or do out there, but she preferred being out there rather than being locked up. After her chores, she retired to sit by the window, her favourite place now and the closest she could get to see the outside world. Then she noticed there was something different about those bloodstained streets and walls. There were white posters on the walls covering most of the blood.

Cecilia could not get a clear view of the words written on the poster. She got so agitated. "I've got to see this," she murmured desperately pacing back and forth in her room. "No one is going to stop me this time," she said with determination.

She slowly sneaked out of her room to spy on her mother. Her mother was busy in the kitchen, cooking the little food stuff they had left. That was her chance. She went back to her room, opened the window and stuck her head out. It was a bit high from her window to the ground, but she could do it. She made the sign of the cross, probably her way of praying that she wouldn't die and with a final deep breath, she was flying out the window.

She landed on the ground almost twisting her ankle, but she made it. She almost jumped with joy but realised she couldn't afford to make any noise that would make her mom notice she was out.

"Wait, how am I going to get back up?" she asked herself with a slap on her head. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed. There was a ladder behind the house. It was broken but it would do, that was her only shot anyway. "¡Hecho! Mom will never notice," she said to herself with a self satisfactory grin.

The rebels were planning their big attack on other parts of the country so they were laying low for the time being. They just went on random hunts and in smaller groups than the usual. They had attacked almost all the big stores and big houses in Medellin.

There was no job for Charles that day, and the first thing that came into his idle mind was her name. "Cilia."

"How will I be able to look at her after helping those rebels in so many attacks?" The questions cane floading in his mind. "What would she think of me if she got to know?" These questions never left his thoughts, but he just had one thing left to hold on to, that was hope.

He went out to stare at her through the window like he always did. Just a glimpse of her pretty little face could save him from dying within. Sometimes he would not even see her, but looking through that window gave him so much hope. It gave him a choice. The more he kept that hope alive, the more certain he was that everything would fall back in place someday.

Charles started from the camp in the ghetto into the bloody streets. He saw them too. The white posters on the bloodstained walls. He moved closer and peeled one of the posters off the wall. After reading through it, he had confusion written all over his face. "Is this really true?" he asked himself and folded the poster into his pocket as he continued walking towards Cilia's house.

A few hours later, dark clouds begun to form in the sky. Kelvin was in his hood as usual, sitting on the few steps that led to his door. He was observing how quiet the ghetto had become now, but also he knew it was because they were busy planning on their big attack. He noticed the change in the weather but he still stayed out to feel the cold air. The wind grew stronger; papers and rubber dancing in the air, which was a normal thing for the people living in the ghetto.

Kelvin was about to go inside when the rain drops started falling.

"Wish I could stay out and dance in the rain. Pero..." he let out a deep breath and shook his head slowly as he dragged himself up to stand.

The rest of his words remained unspoken when something caught his eye. There were unusual papers flying among the waste--white papers stained with blood. Luckily, one landed on the ground close to him and he quickly grabbed it. His eyes widened with confusion when he saw the words. They were now a little invisible because of the blood stain, but he could still clearly see them.

"What the hell does this mean?" He let the paper fall unto the ground. The rain was now pouring heavily, and it got soaked immediately. "Only one way to find out," he added.

A/N: Thank you for reading!😁
Let's continue to support, vote, comment and share. 😚💜