Raising a child in jail

Five months in this basement was enough to kill a person or make them go crazy.

The only way I was sure that everything was fine with me was the fact that my stomach had now grown twice in size. I wasn’t even allowed to go to the hospital for regular checkups. The only way I would know if the baby in me was alive was through the occasional kicks it gave me.

“I wonder who your father is? You think he might be looking for you?” I asked, more to myself than to the baby in my belly, who couldn’t even answer my question.

Why would he look for me, anyway? He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant. And even if he did… no. He wouldn’t think I’m here. Not here. Not chained like this.

Ethan dropped me off here five months ago, saying his mother had something to talk about, and ever since then, she has locked me up in this basement. She cut me off from having contact with the entire world — not even my husband — and now I’ve had enough of it.

I’m getting out tonight. I have to. Ethan doesn’t know — he can’t know. He wouldn’t let this happen.

I don’t know when my mother-in-law got rich enough to hire a maid, but she did. This maid was the one who brought me breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so I made my move when she came to bring me dinner today.

“What if it’s the baby that’s about to come out?” I lied, trying to persuade the maid to free me from these chains and let me go into the bathroom.

“I don’t think childbirth happens that way,” she muttered under her breath. Maybe she was shy, or maybe she just didn’t like me. I was probably adding more workload to whatever my mother-in-law had employed her to do. So whenever she came and I didn’t try to start a conversation, neither of us was enjoying it.

“How would you know? Have you been pregnant before? I’m sorry to bother you, but this is my first time being pregnant, so whenever there’s a small change, I take it into account.” I kept lying through my teeth. As much as I hated lying, I hated this basement even more.

After much convincing and lying, she finally loosened the chains, and I sprinted into the bathroom, not minding the size of my stomach.

I had limited time. I had to think fast. The only solution was to escape through the bathroom window.

Thank God my mother-in-law’s house was a one-story building; it would have been hard to jump down otherwise. It would have been easier if I weren’t five months pregnant, but it was very hard to get my big belly out the window. After much bending and squeezing, I finally got out. I started sprinting with all my might.

Who knew running could hurt this much? My lungs burned. I couldn’t stop — not now. Just one more step. One more.

I hit the main road — chaos. Cars, horns, lights. I didn’t care. I ran anyway.

Unknown to me, a certain someone who had been looking for me for the past five months saw me.

“Oh my gosh, it’s her!” Chris’s eyes lit up from behind the steering wheel. Jimmie, who had a bored expression, asked,

“Who?”

Chris pointed at a very untidy-looking pregnant woman running across the road without shoes on.

“The lady we’ve been looking for — the one who got pregnant with your child,” he said, turning to face Jimmie, who now had a very curious and expectant look on his face. He didn’t even get to see Sammie’s face properly.

“Then what are you waiting for?!” Jimmie snapped, glaring at Chris.

“Sir, do you want me to go after her? But if I leave the wheel and traffic moves, we could get a ticket.” Chris explained, already regretting not getting out the moment he saw Sam run in front of their car.

“You think I care about a fucking ticket?! The car could get towed for all I care!” he yelled, his voice shaking the car.

Chris immediately removed his seatbelt and got out of the car, but it was too late. Sam was nowhere to be found.

He searched everywhere nearby, within a 5 km radius, but she was gone. Could a grown human disappear? Well, Sam did.

---

Well, what can I say? “Luck” was always on my side. Just a few seconds after I got to the main road, I ran into my mother-in-law’s car. She caught me by the hair, dragged me back to the basement, and chained me down where I was before.

She went to give the maid an earful, then came back to meet me in the basement.

“How dare you! I try to help you hide your shame from the world, and this is the thanks I get?!” she said, sitting down across from me with a disdainful look on her face.

“Just let me meet Ethan, please—” Before I could finish my statement, her hand went straight across my face, and for a moment, all I could see was white light.

“Don’t you dare say my son’s name out of your filthy mouth, you disgusting little slut! I was being considerate and wanted to give this to you after you gave birth, but I guess I have no choice but to give it to you now,” she said, throwing what looked like a court notice at me.

I picked it up with trembling hands, and it was exactly what I thought it was — divorce papers.

“No, Ethan would never do this to—”

“Oh, but he already did. As you can see, his signature is boldly written on that piece of paper. Now sign it!” she said, throwing a pen down beside the paper she had tossed earlier.

“No! I won’t sign it!” I tried to protest, but she did something I didn’t expect. She pulled out pictures of me from her bag — the ones she took of me running errands every Tuesday.

“Should I tell you, my dear obedient daughter-in-law, what was inside those packages I asked you to deliver for me? Drugs.”

No. She did not.

She used me to traffic drugs?!

My hands went cold. My baby kicked. Hard.

No. She did not.

“Now, if you don’t want me to release those pictures online and make you have your child in jail, you’d better sign them now,” she threatened, looking like the devil himself.

What came over me was a raw protectiveness I never knew existed — for the child in me. I think all mothers would agree that they want what’s best for their child. No one would want to raise a child in jail. I didn’t care if she made those pictures and any other evidence public, but raising my child in jail was out of the question.

I signed. She smiled, but not at me.

“You really thought Ethan would come for you?”

She pulled out her phone and pressed play.

His voice echoed from the speaker — calm, cold, final.

"Umm... mum... you didn't kill her, did you? "I mean, I don't mind if you do, but be discreet...."

No. No. No

Ethan would never...