C1 EPISODE 1. I HAVE TO LEAVE!

JASAMINA.

I feel like I'm dying.

I sprawled there on the floor, my whole body hurting so bad, painful moans erupting from my throat. It hurts to talk. It hurts to breathe.

It hurts. Period.

This must be what it feels like to be hit and grinded by moving train. Only the train is Ludale, my husband.

I held my breath as I heard the door open and close. I released the painful breath I was holding. He has gone out.

I have to go now! I have to escape now! I don't care if he finds me again....I don't care about the consequence of escaping. Not this time.

The scream of a little child jolted me into movement. My little boy is awake and I have to get to him, I thought as tears streames down my face.

"Arh..." I cried as I pushed my bruised body up from the floor. I winced as I limped my way to my two-months-old baby boy, Jaimie.

I picked up my bawling baby from the sofa, shushing him to keep him quiet. We have to leave now that Dale just walked out!

I limped my way from the sitting room of the big house to the bedroom. Luckily, Jaimie laid on the bed without crying as I packed the necessarily things I need to be on the road.

Baby diapers. Bottle and formula. Jaimie's quilt. The few dollar bills I have on me. A few clothes.

The bag was filled in no time and I swung it up my shoulder, all the while hoping Dale doesn't come back yet. Oh God, let him not be back!

My body hurts so bad but I managed to carry my baby and the bag. I limped my way out of the house.

I have no destination.

Not a lot of money.

Just my baby and I.

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TWO DAYS LATER.

My mouth quivered and tears filled my eyes. I feel so sick, I can barely keep my eyes open...but that is not my problem.

Jaimie's cries filled the evening's air. His face was all red, his arms and legs restless.

I had taken countless buses and trains to arrive in this town that I am. Valleyland, a town I've never heard of before. So far away...and yet not far enough.

I am huddled in a small abandoned tent I've taken up as a temporary home.

I can still remember the news....

***Young flighty wife of the congressman ran away with her infant, leaving the congressman heartbroken and fanatic with worry because she is mentally sick and unable to care for the child. The police are out looking for her. Three million dollars for anybody with valuable information on where to find her and four million dollars for anybody that can turn her in. You will be saving the life of an infant and a caring father.***

Everyone is looking for me. Dale. My parents. The police. The citizens. Everyone.

I can't go anywhere. I can't get a job. My breast barely produces milk because of all the beatings on my body and Jaimie's formula has finished. The money has finished too.

I can't remember the last time I ate but I have to feed my baby. I have to!

I carried him in my arching arms. Baring a plump bruised breast from the confinement of my blouse, I directed it to his mouth and he laced on it with the usual enthusiasm of a hungry baby.

Each tug of his mouth caused me pain as he drew on it hungrily, suckling desperately. He tore his lips away and screeched in a loud voice.

"Oh... God!" I cried out, tears filling my eyes.

Scared that he'll draw attention to this secluded place I am, and terrified that he's not eating much, I bundled him up again into my shirt and headed out of the tent.

I dragged my foot as much as I could, feeling so dizzy I can barely keep my eyes open. My baby already fell into an exhausted sleep.

Food, Jaime needs food.

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"Please....give me some...money..." I begged the next woman that crossed the street. I've been at it for several minutes.

The woman ignored me without a sideways glance, just like the others.

I've stuck to women for minutes now but I'm getting desperate. I have no choice, I have to go to where men are drinking. I have to get money from them, even if it means.....

I dragged my step forward when a strong arm caught on my coat. Frightened, I looked up to see the owner of such arm.

He was big. Slumped to one side. Dirty hair. Dirty clothes. Mustache covered half of his face. Like me, he covered himself in a coat too, so I couldn't see much. But his grip on my arm was strong.

A drunkard. He was a drunkard.

It made me wonder...why will a drunkard stop me?