I recall a story my father frequently used to tell me.
He would always start this particular story with the same question: Son, do you have faith that everything will be alright?
I remember the first time he told me that story was when my mother had passed away from illness, while I was still a little boy mourning the death of a parent.
And when I would shake my head in between the tears streaming down my face, he would cup my face in his large hands, and force me to look at him, looking at me with his knowing eyes, he would say I was wrong, and that everything will in fact, be alright.
Here is the story:
It starts with a man.
This man was like any other, let's call him Joe, as he is just another average Joe.
Joe lived his whole life in a helluva city, where life a rat in the sewers was more pleasant than being human.
You get the picture.
Most would sell their souls to get out of this place as soon as they can, but for Joe, he is so used to the filth he no longer notices it.
See, Joe's father always told him, "Don't forget your roots," and for Joe, his roots are all planted deep in this city. Generations and generations dating back to the founding of this city, when it was still a place people believed that was filled with hopes and dreams.
Unfortunately, that time has passed.
For Joe, he never got to experience the luscious lands and modern buildings. When he was born, the city has already rotted, and the beauty that was once casted has made its final curtain call.
Needless to say, growing up was tough for poor ol' Joe. In a world so crumbled and isolated, it doesn't take much for anybody to snap into insanity.
You may ask what is insanity?
Well, let's just say police from other departments wouldn't set a foot into this town. Stories that travel outside the city are often labelled as urban legends. The place is a sure win for having the most bizarre and twisted criminal cases ever recorded.
Joe had one best friend, and his name was Thomas.
They found each other at the age of 10, when Joe was being mugged by a group of homeless. Desperate for a decent meal that night, they took out guns and harassed the poor boy until he wet his pants.
And then Thomas showed up. He was different than many boys, you see. Despite his frail size, there was a glimmer of madness in his eyes that made grown men look away with unease.
It was the eyes of a person who has lost so much that no matter what deed he may do, it will only act as a gain.
"Go away." his' voice was rather deep and raspy for a youthful boy.
"Take this, and get out of here."
In Thomas' hand was a bundle of bills. Though they were old and soggy, it was more money than the muggers have seen all night.
He tossed them to the side and like hungry dogs, the three grown men charged towards it, completely forgetting about the two boys.
Thomas might have just saved Joe's life that night.
Of course, it took a while for Joe to learn mysterious Thomas' name. The boy refused to give his identity upon the several meetings they had. Why? Well Joe wasn't too sure.
"I don't have a name." was all he said when asked.
"I'm unsure of who I am, and I know the name my parents gave me does not define me anymore."
Looks like it's better to leave it than to push him for it.
But in time, the boy revealed himself to be Thomas. Joe recall a change in voice when the boy whispered his name. For the first time, Thomas' whimper made Joe see through the brave face that he puts on.
(.... to be continued)
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