The sky was the color of pepper, a fire's smoke made sky across the Earth as she stood, bare legged against the shaky autumn wind. She tremored, clasping an umbrella in her hands, a curved onyx handle decorated with a spotted gradient, her grandmother's, if an umbrella could count as an heirloom. She was dwarfed by the giant man she referred to as dad. Her dainty sneeze felt miles away from his stony face, but he looked down at her.
"Maisie, I told you to dress accordingly." While the girl held an umbrella to the timid fall of rain, the man did I not mind, his hair slick with the shine of oil and water.
"I d-didn't think w-we'd stay out here this long."
"It's a funeral." There were people in front of them with raven feather clothes.
"I've n-never s-s-spoken to him." The girl gave a disheartened tug at the frill of her dress.
There was an air of disappointed silence to the man's hesitation. Every silent moment he perpetuated felt like he was figuring out how to punish her. Instead, though, he took off his jacket.
"Here, tie this around your legs."
The girl did accordingly. It draped past her knees, inches from the sodden mud below her feet. She gave a satisfied smile.
"Are you sure you don't mind, dad?"
"I've fought in some shitty places without so much as a shirt, Maiz." He smiled a sad smile at the scene in front of him. "I can take it."
The crack of rifle fire made the girl jump, but he stood unmoving.
~~~~~~~~~~
He stared down at her, she at anything but him. She felt small in the sea of his stare. He still wore his military jacket, the medals on his breast clanging with each adjustment of stance. He cleared his throat. Maisie absent-mindedly did the same. To be unable to run like any other day was torturous, chained to the bed with a fiery wound.
"Why are you here?" Her question was on a miniature voice. She was still as a puppet, a decoy left to the dogs.
"I heard you were hurt." It had been a while since she'd heard that voice, the deep cracking voice of a man who yelled a lot.
Maisie pulled the blanket further over her chest. "I'm fine."
"You were stabbed."
"I'm fine!" The exclamation echoed in her bloodless head. Her vision began to blur, and she felt cross-eyed.
He sighed a weathered breath, not of surprise but of the contrary. "Who did this to you?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know...?"
"Some crazy guy."
"Maisie, I've told you to be careful."
"It's not like that!" She fought against the black edges of her vision. "H-he attacked me! It isn't like that here, dad!"
"Maisie, calm down--"
"It isn't like one of your fucking military stories, dad, these people are dangerous! T-they have abilities, dad, I couldn't, I couldn't--!"
"Maisie!"
The girl collapsed onto her pillow, the oxygen returning to her lungs. She rolled over, ignoring the sharp pain that ensued. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him looking at her.
It's all your fault, Maisie, you dumb slut.
"I'm going to go find your mother," the man murmured. "I'll be back, okay?"
She didn't answer. He walked away, into her peripheral vision and out the door. The girl pulled the sheets all the way over her head.
