I couldn't bring myself to look at him, so I didn't. "My parents? My parents didn't care about my wellbeing. They never cared as long as they got money. As long as they lived in riches, poor young Jasamina could take it all."
"The day I showed Mama my bruises, she smiled a bit and told me to suck it up. She said I had to grow up and learn to endure because a lot of married women do. She told me stories of how she suffered as a poor farmer's wife."
I still remember the pain that comes with that memory. I had always loved Mama a lot. I had always longed for a mother who would love me back like every mother and her child. Mine was just different. I was unfortunate.
"I was beaten, tortured, and battered. Dale treated me like an animal. Like his property... an object with no feelings. Then I had my baby. My beautiful Jaimie. Having Jaimie gave me new hope, a new zeal to survive. When Dale beat me again, I took my baby and ran."
Tears filled my eyes at the memory of that horrible day, "Of course, Dale started looking for me. He told the public I was mentally deranged and I ran away with his child promising to reward whoever finds me, and everyone went out for me. I had to stick to hiding like a criminal."
I glanced at my baby, who was sleeping peacefully in my arms. "I had little money with me when I escaped. Surviving was going to be hard, so I went out on the streets to beg. That's when I found Tanner, who had helped me willingly and took care of my baby and me. He didn't know anything about me, and he asked for nothing in return. Till today."
I smiled, feeling relieved to have met him that day on the street. He was my savior, a Godsend. "Who would have thought that an alcoholic would be my savior? A drunk on the street?"
"Where is the alcoholic?" The big guy spoke for the first time, his voice laced with curiosity.
"Tanner, of course," I said, smiling through my tear-filled eyes.
Through my tear-filled eyes, I saw the incredulous look on the man's face as he stared at Tanner. And the way Tanner had his head lowered.
"So, that's why I'm on the run. I'm never going back....! I don't want to!" I cried out softly.
Feeling exposed and raw, I got up with my baby and ran straight for our room. I didn't look at the men again.
I'm never going back!
TANNER
I miss alcohol. I need a drink. Or two. Maybe three.
Alcohol has always been a friend to me, one that could always help me forget my troubles, numb my feelings, and take me away from reality. It's a temporary escape from the harshness of the world, a refuge from the pain that I feel inside.
But this time, I can't just drink away my troubles. No amount of alcohol can wash away the anger and rage that I'm feeling right now.
In the silence that followed after her abrupt departure, my mind was racing with thoughts of killing that man. How could he have maltreated this young girl like that!? My blood boiled with rage and disgust. It's unimaginable that someone could be so cruel to another human being, let alone to his own wife.
I could feel my heart racing, pounding in my chest like a drum. My fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white with the force of my grip. The urge to lash out was strong, to do something to make this right, to make this man pay for his sins.
But I held back. Barely.
I knew that violence wasn't the answer, that it wouldn't solve anything. It would only create more problems and more pain. But it was hard to think rationally in the face of such blatant injustice and cruelty.
As my anger subsided a little, a new emotion started to take hold of me - deep sadness. I couldn't help but feel heartbroken for the young girl who had suffered at the hands of her own husband and her own family. It was hard to comprehend how someone could treat another human being in such a way.
The more I thought about it, the more my sadness turned to disgust. How could the parents just stand by and watch their daughter being abused like that? How could they sell her off like a piece of property? They were just as guilty as the man who had hurt her, if not more so.
It was a pitiful situation, and my heart went out to the girl. It was clear that she had been dealt a terrible hand in life, one that no one deserves. And yet, she had found a way to survive, to keep going in spite of the odds stacked against her.
For the first time in a long time, I suddenly felt a little bit of peace. For helping her out that day...on that street. It wasn't much, but it was something. And it gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still some good left in this world.
Anger. Rage. Peace.
Contradicting.
XAZIX