Esmeralda looked up from the ball she was curled in. She had been pressed tight against the wall, in a corner, since John had taken her baby away. She could feel her heart keep breaking, over and over again, as she replayed the memory in her head. It was like a broken record, one that just kept spinning and spinning with no one there to take it off the machine.
She couldn't keep her thoughts together, and she felt the need to throw up. The need grew larger when she looked at the food placed beside her. The food the day before had look disgusting, but the new mother could barely pay it mind because she was too caught up in trying to save her child. Now though, as she sat on the floor falling further into what one would call Post Pardom Depression, self guilt and self hatred as well as Seperation Anxiety, she could barely think of eating. Even if the food had looked etable she could eat. Her stomach was twisted every which way, contracting and pulsing. Her lower regions were sore and burning, feeling as if they were tearing and ripping apart if she even moved. She knew Aladdin was worried for her, and she knew she needed medical attention as well. Something had went wrong during the birth of her son, but she wouldn't have told Aladdin that. She was too worried.
Worried about Aaron.
