"Get lost, just moisten your lips with that water, everyone is out of water, if you keep talking nonsense, I'll kill you," the gangster said impatiently.
Wait a minute, pulling out a gun, the pleading poor man ran away immediately.
The gangster hummed proudly.
It soon came to Alex's turn, he looked at the water in the bucket, opened his mouth, but had to lower his head and walk away...
After two steps, he started running fast.
"Alex, damn it! Stop for me!" A tall, burly man ran up behind him, catching up in just a few strides and blocking his path.
The man looked to be in his 30s, greedily eyeing Alex's bucket, "Give me the water."
Seeing the refusal, the other man's hand shook, and a small knife appeared, waving it fiercely, "Don't make me kill you!"
"No!!" Alex clung tightly, his eyes panicked but determined, this was his family's hope, he could drink dirty water, but they couldn't.
He remembered his deceased father telling him, a man must be responsible and take care of the family.
The tall, burly man got brutal, rushing over and swinging wildly with the knife, clashing with Alex. The disparity in their builds was too great, soon Alex was bleeding, his arm slashed, the bucket snatched.
With a bruised face, Alex covered his face, wailing loudly, "Give me back my water! Give me back my water!"
Passing poor people all had indifferent expressions...
Slums, there had never been rules or fairness.
Alex shouted in despair...
Suddenly, there was an outcry, everyone looked up.
Then they saw an airplane flying overhead, and propaganda flyers began to rain down, falling everywhere.
Falling on the ground, on rooftops, into foul-smelling ditches...
A flyer landed on Alex's face, tears in his eyes, his eyes very red, holding the flyer—he could read, his mother had taught him.
"Great General Victor cannot bear to see you work for drug traffickers and gangsters, all of you are one family, just step out of the slums, shout 'Long live Victor!' and you can have hot water, food, accommodation, and doctors."
"The first 6000 to surrender to the Government Forces will be provided with housing."
"Come back, compatriots, the General has prepared everything for you."
Alex's hand trembled, his heart jolted as he read, looking around, he saw many people holding the flyers, expressions varied, obviously... some were tempted.
Stepping out of the slums could grant what they wanted.
Who wouldn't be tempted?
"Drop it! Don't pick it up, whoever grabs a flyer is a traitor, and we ensure not a single family member is spared!" The gangster distributing water had also seen it, frenzied, shouting loudly to the slum dwellers, even ordering men to shoot into the air.
Alex tossed the flyer into the foul-smelling ditch, running home covered in wounds.
As soon as he entered, he saw his mother and frail sister looking at him.
"Son, what happened to you? Who hit you?" His mother, a white-haired woman in her 30s but worn out, asked anxiously.
"Mom, the water was stolen!"
The mother's hand paused, touching Alex's face, "It's okay, as long as you're safe, it's okay." She embraced her son, comforting him.
Alex clenched his teeth, looking at his sister who was too hungry to speak, then at his mother, suddenly said, "Let's run out and surrender to the Government Forces!"
Both mother and sister looked at him in shock.
"Shush... don't talk nonsense."
"Mom, if we don't run, we will die, we'll die of thirst, hunger, or be killed by the gangsters, I just saw the flyer, the Government Forces will provide us with food and doctors, your illness will surely get better."
"Government Forces aren't necessarily the good guys..." his sister whispered.
"It's still better than waiting to die here!"
"How much longer can we last? Three days? Five days? Seven days?"
Alex shook his head sorrowfully, "Today the gangsters killed again, I've had enough."
Wiping his tears, he was resolute.
"I want to leave the slums!"
"Mom, I... I don't want to die here, I don't want to die numb like a sparrow in these slums, I want to see the outside world, I want to live!"
Seeing the look in her son's eyes, the mother's heart trembled, tears rolling down, hugging her son and daughter, "Then let's go, waiting for death in the slums is worse than trying..."
She didn't know if this decision was right or wrong.
She didn't want her child, carried for ten months and born, to die like a rat in a slum's ditch without water, if they went three days, the whole family would die.
Maybe heaven favors us?
Always worth a try...
Vi… Victor may also bless.