5 Call Me Father (1/2)

After crying for several hours, Margaret didn't know when she went into a deep slumber.

She felt her hair being stroked by someone. Reminiscing about her mother, she whispered ”Momma...”. It felt good. But as she opened her eyes to see her mother, she saw a man sitting on the edge of her bed. She woke up suddenly and sat obediently with her head bowed down.

”Father... I'm sorry. I didn't notice you coming here. Do you need something?” she apologized.

Letting a chuckle out, Corbette said, ”I sometimes wish you were my own blood. What did I do to deserve your Margaret? It must be the good deeds of my past life... right?”, his lips curled up into a gentle smile as he gently stroked her hair.

”I'm sorry Margaret. For not giving you a happy family. You deserve so much my girl.” he spoke.

The words sunk into her chest at the pitiful shake of his head.

”You don't need to be, father. I'm so blessed to have you as my father now,” she smiled wholeheartedly as she held her father's hand.

His eyes were soggy.

”Do you remember? You were a small adorable kid back then when I first saw you.”he smiled gently subconsciously as he stared at the table near him.

”You were scared when I had asked you your name.”, he chuckled.

….

A Few days after the massacre, Margaret finally left her house in search of food.

The councilmen had searched for every possible alive person. Sadly, only a handful of them were found alive lying subconsciously in their houses and the rest, dead.

Little Margaret stayed hidden in the hiding spot and was afraid to make an appearance before the guards. As they left, Margaret sneaked out the hiding place and left her house with only some clothes and the pendant.

She walked wherever the tiny legs took her. Walking for hours, her legs lost all its life. She fell on the ground. The stony ground peeled the delicate white skin off her knees and brushed her arms.

The blood flowed down like a lazy river. It had flowed so freely from the severed wound and soaked into her pink colored frock. Her blonde hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, her plump lips cracked open. Her body dehydrated and lost its consciousness.

Feeling a cold sensation against her face, her eyebrows furrowed. She tried to open her eyes but failed bitterly. Another sprinkle of water dashed against her delicate face. Her butterfly eyelashes fluttered and finally her eyes half opened. She saw everything but blurry. She blinked a few times and saw a man in coat was looking at her tensely. He helped her to sit. While sitting, she noticed that she was in a moving carriage. She looked down and saw her peeled knees were covered in bandage cloth. She felt a sticky liquid on her hand's bruises. Finally, she noticed a man looking at her worriedly.

”Who are you?” Corbette asked in a calm voice, not to scare the little girl.

She tried to say but decided to stay dumb. She remembered once her mother told not to talk to a stranger and this man was a stranger to her.