As I entered the room, I couldn't help but freeze at the sight of her. She looked terrible, her fever was high. I walked closer to her and placed the back of my hand on her forehead. "Shit," I muttered under my breath. She was burning up.
I didn't know what to do. I needed to be on my way as soon as possible. I couldn't just stay there, if I did, I would start thinking about the past, and if I thought about the past, I would lose it. I needed to drink, I needed to get drunk. Eight bottles wouldn't be enough, I would need at least fifty. I didn't want to remember anything, I didn't want to think at all. Taking care of her meant being sober and being sober was a nightmare.
She's not my problem, I told myself as I dropped the things I had bought and faced the door. But my legs wouldn't move. I needed to leave, but her sickness was making me hesitate. I stood there, staring at the little baby sleeping beside the fragile girl and my legs wouldn't move at all.
"Just one night," I finally growled to myself. "One night and I'll be out of here. For now, I need to take care of her," I said begrudgingly.
As I looked at her, I couldn't help but feel angry. I remember when she was awake, all I saw in her eyes was pain. Someone had beaten this girl up, badly. I couldn't help but notice the fresh bruise caused by a ring on her skin and my eyes darkened. Who would beat up a young girl who had just given birth?
Not my problem, I reminded myself. I needed to bury myself in the bottle again. I couldn't afford to start thinking again.
I quickly wiped the sweat from her body and made a move to get up, but she suddenly cried out. "No! Please!"
I turned and stared at her, but her eyes were squeezed shut. She was having a nightmare. "Dale...! Dale...please...!" She screamed again.
I couldn't help but watch her, unable to do anything to ease her pain. She reminded me of something I never wanted to remember again. I clenched my fists and watched as she fought her demons, crying and screaming.
Minutes later, she finally settled back to sleep. I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. "Just tonight. Then, I'm gone," I said to myself as I turned and headed for the next room.
JASMINA
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining brightly and the summer breeze was blowing fiercely. I woke up to the cries of my baby and was surprised to find that I didn't feel much pain, unlike the night before.
I was feeling better than I had the previous night, which had been a living hell for me. The past few weeks had been a constant struggle, and I couldn't believe that I had fainted and was feeling okay this morning. What had happened?
"How come I'm better than last night?" I asked myself, bringing my baby, Jaimie, closer to me. He had woken me up because he was hungry.
I reached for his bottle but then felt the wetness of my breast. Breast milk! Waves of happiness filled me.
Just then, a door opened and the drunk came in, dressed in fresh clothes. I still couldn't make out his features very well due to his overgrown beard, but at least he was cleaner now.
"What... what happened? How come I'm feeling better?" I spoke out loud, in shock and surprise.
"You're awake," the alcoholic said to me. I had assumed that he had slept here, but it seemed he had slept in the other room so I could have my privacy.
"Yes, I am. Good morning," I greeted him hesitantly.
"Good morning. How was your night?" He finally responded after what felt like an eternity.
"It was bad... I mean, it was great," I corrected myself, realizing that it was true. I didn't feel as much pain anymore.
"What do you mean? Of course, I know it wasn't great. You were sick last night. I took care of you," he said like it was something he didn't want to remember.
"Who beat you up like a punching bag?" He asked suddenly, catching me off guard.
I paused, biting my lip hard. I didn't want to answer that question.
"You know what, forget I asked," he said at last.
I was relieved and stared at him out of the corner of my eyes.
Then, he sighed. "I hope you're feeling better now, unlike last night?"
I nodded. "Thanks a lot for taking care of me. Thank you for everything," I whispered again, almost choking from the rush of emotions.
"You're welcome. So how's the baby?" He asked, staring at Jaimie as I breastfed him.
I felt self-conscious about breastfeeding my baby in front of a stranger, so I flipped my long hair to cover a bit of my plump breast.