Accident

"No... You're dead. You're not supposed to be here. You're dead... Stop!"

Gail woke up in the middle of the night, shaking and  having a nightmare of her father's face in her mind and still alive. Her heart was beating so fast, sweat forming bullets on her forehead, her breathing was uneven, and her throat parched. 

She looked around the bright room, calming upon realizing that yesterday wasn't a dream. Her father was dead, and he wasn't coming for her anymore. She wiped the tears on her cheeks, looking around for water inside.

However, there was only an empty glass there. Aside from the table, the bed, and a cabinet, there wasn't anything anymore inside. That also meant that she had to go out, something she was dreading because she felt like she was a rat in a huge house going out hoping no one could see her. 

It was two in the morning, maybe there wasn't anyone outside and everyone was in their room. 

Gail stood up slowly, feeling the stinging pain on her body. She hated how even though her father was dead, he was still able to leave marks on her body and in her mind of how awful of a father he was. The marks and the trauma that would forever stay in her. 

She opened the door carefully, looking left and right, hoping not to see anybody. The hallway was dim and quiet, only a few lights were turned on and no noise could be heard. 

With the glass in hand, clutched on her chest, she walked out of the room and tread the silent hallway with her bare feet. There were a lot of doors, and she guessed that part of the house was for the maids. 

The kitchen was on the other side. The house was just so huge that she felt like she was already walking for a minute before she reached the spacious kitchen. No one was around, thankfully, the last thing she wanted to do was talk with someone. 

It was dark, and she could only see from the moonlight outside from the window. Thankfully, the kitchen was just normal, and she found the fridge immediately.

Gail took a pitcher of water in the refrigerator, careful not to make any loud noise that could attract people. She was good at that. She was always like that in their house whenever she would want to drink water and her father was sleeping outside. Waking him up in his sleep meant an instant death to her. 

Gail successfully drank and put back the pitcher in the fridge, but not without getting another glass because she didn't want to go out again tomorrow when she was sure there would be a lot of people outside. 

It's really very easy to live life without people.

When she thought everything was settled, she sighed and smiled triumphantly to herself. However, as soon as she turned her back and ready to go back to her room, a huge figure blocked her eyes. 

"Ahh!!"

Gail screamed so loudly, the glass she was holding slipped from her hand and created a loud shatter on the tiled floor. She stepped back immediately, desperate to get away from them, but she hit the sink so she just crouched on the floor, hiding and scared.

"Shit!" Michael exclaimed, moving away from her and clapped once to turn on the light. "What the hell did you do!?"

She flinched at the voice raised at her. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. I won't do it again."

She covered her face with her hand and curtained it with her hair. She didn't want to look at him, afraid of the fury on his face from the failure she did again. Maybe luck was no longer with her anymore. Everything that she was doing was a failure, would it even be better if she would just die at this point. 

"You would even do me a favor if you would just die. What a burden!"

"Just die, will you? Why can't you just die from being beaten!?"

"You're no use in this world. You're stupid, you're ugly. I should probably just sell you so you could be of use!"

Those words had always been ringing in her mind whenever she was left alone, whenever she would make a mistake. 

She heard steps closing in on her. From the small gaps of her fingers, she saw Michael standing in front of her. She could only see his hairy legs, and she didn't want to look up to see his face.

She knew he was disappointed, or even angry, and it was near before he would throw her out because he would rather let her live in the streets than in his house. No one would want her._

"Hey, are you okay?" 

The softness of his voice made Gail confused. That wasn't what she was expecting from him. If it was her father, a knife would have probably been flying toward her already. 

But the way he crouched in front of her and even sounding concerned made her confused. He was supposed to shout, to throw her away, to call her names and insults for breaking a what seemed to be expensive glass. 

She felt a touch on her foot, it wasn't harsh, gentle even, but still, Gail flinched, whimpering and hugging her knees even tighter. It just a natural reaction from her, her body always ready to defend herself in thought that everybody who was touching her were going to hurt her. 

Michael immediately raised his hands, meaning no harm. "Your foot is bleeding, Miss. The cut seems huge."

"I-I'm fine. Leave me alone."

Maybe because so many people looked at her with malice, like they were ready to pounce on her if they only didn't know that her father was a criminal, and that everyone just looked like they were going to hurt her, she wouldn't have felt overreacting like that. 

"Obbiously, you're not. You have to clean your wounded foot, do you want it to get worse until it needs to be operated?"

That question made Gail stop crying. She didn't like hospitals, and most importantly, she didn't want to live her whole life with only one foot. She didn't know a cut on her foot would lead to that when she had been cut by larger knives but she was still alive. 

She removed her hand on her face, sniffling. Some strands of her hair stuck on her sweaty face, and as usual, she used her hair to cover her face. She didn't like anyone seeing her, she was aware she was ugly, and they didn't have to say it out to her. 

Gail tried to stand, holding the edge of the sink for support. However, when her weight landed on her wounded foot, she hissed in pain and lost her balance. 

Luckily, Michael was watching intently, and before she fell back on the ground, he managed to catch her by her arms. "Are you okay? I told you to let me help you."

"Don't touch..."

"No," Michael firmly said. "You can't even walk. Think of it this way, I'll only touch you once to help you tonight, but if you lose your foot, you'll be touched by so many people. Which do you think is worse?"

Michael felt like he was talking to a kid. He didn't expect that she would buy the exaggerated scenario he just made up. For some reason, he found it a bit... funny. 

He didn't wait for her to answer anymore and risked reaching for her arms. He waited if she would flinch, and she did for a bit, but she didn't push his hand away so he took it as her answer. 

Slowly and carefully, Gail felt herself being lifted up easily. He was far from him, and making sure that other than his hands, no more parts of his body would be close to him. She appreciated it dearly. 

"Walk to the left," he guided her to where the small bathroom was. "Clean your foot, I'll just get the first aid kit. You'll be fine if I leave you alone, right? You won't do anything stupid?"

Gail's jaw clenched, her eyes looking at him through side eyes. "Yes. I'm not stupid..." 

It was merely a whisper, but because of the small bathroom, Michael still heard it. A pang of guilt and a feeling of apology hit his chest. Right. This girl is sensitive.

Michael might feel that way but he would never admit he was wrong. He was the owner of the house, he was someone with authority, and this girl was just nothing but the daughter of the man who attempted to kill him. 

There was no way he would apologize. He didn't care about her feelings, what she thought about him, and if she would cry in front of her for being called stupid. 

He was never the person who would apologize even though he knew he was the one who did something wrong. 

"Whatever. I'll just get the kit."