Further steps down the street lay a ghetto home,
an open secret environment, morally violated,
piles of broken pieces littered like they were been cheated;
deprived of their rights, hanging in the lows, begging to be treated fairly, kicked around by boys three sheets to the wind, left to be beaten by the harsh rain in the middle of an infringed night.
Traces of smoke went up freely in the sky, swashing the faces of pregnant teen girls, wrestling the walls of an uncompleted building roughly standing on its tired legs.
The unpleasant moans, rattling of alcoholic bottles against the wall, soft voices of inebriated boys at a corner like a chief priest adjuring the spirit of a profaned god.
Mixed scents of alcohol, vomits, cigarette puff filled the air as the siren beep of police van sounded from a distance afar.
"Why did you kill her? why ya kill my sister?"
An innocent voice popped from the corner of the large room. It was a boy aged 17.
He had a ripped shirt and a struggling knicker on.
Few calculated steps forward and he was standing before Jack; a malevolent creature, the leader of the gang, a daredevil.
Traces of cutlass ran across his tousled face like the lines on the map of Africa. Two sticks of cigarette stood begging in his mouth as he puffed into the empty space.
The ghetto went dead when he stood his 8ft body up.
"You've got a sister?" Jack roared.
"Camilla"
"She's dead. I killed her"
"Why? why you had to?"
"Stop asking me stupid questions boy".
It was like a second death. The ghetto became even more silent, barred the usual beep of siren from the cop's van.
The atmosphere was pregnant. The kids looked on. They knew something was bound to happen, something certain, something inevitable, something neither of them could tell.
At a flicker of light, Max swept his hand across Jack's face which gave the sticks of cigarette a freedom out of the blue.
The ghetto came to life.
Jack in retaliation brought out a pocket knife and aimed it at Max, who smartly dodged it.
Retreating and calculating his steps, he outwitted Jack, stole the knife from him and with an unremorseful act,
plunged it into his chest.
Jack reclined and lay motionless.
The ghetto on tenterhooks was swallowed by the siren which became even more loud.
The cops.
" The cops, run!"
'Poow!', the bullet caught his leg and he fell over.
"Hands up or I shoot"
The cop went over and tilted Jack's head.
"He's dead.
" You boy? You killed him"
"Yes, Max nodded.
"You're going to jail"
The last time Max saw the ghetto.
