Devil's eyes [Michael Myers x Reader]

Chapter 2. || An accident

[31 October 2000. 11.40 PM]

Your eyes slowly opened and the first thing you saw was a dark sky, a sky full of stars.
It was still dark, which meant that you weren't down for too long... You hoped. You moved your head with a soft moan as you started to feel the grass, leaves and dirt under your body. "F-Fucking hell" You mumbled as you tried to sit up but you couldn't move an inch. Your body felt weak and your head was spinning. 

'What happened-- Why am I feeling like this?'

Your mind was in a haze. You looked around with slight confusion, squinting your eyes.. It was dark, you could barely see a thing. But then you looked up, noticing a bridge in front of you, and the second you did, the memories instantly came flooding into your mind. You were pushed off, he pushed you off of the bridge. He hurt you. He tried to KILL you. Your own father.

As you tried to move, a pained groan left your mouth.

He didn't want you, he never did and tonight was the night you finally realised it. You tried so hard to be a good daughter for him, despite him being one of the worst people you knew. In every argument, fight or disagreement, you always tried to remain calm, not to anger him and even apologise to that selfish human.

Yes, you broke one of his rules today. But you had never done that before and you never expected him to do what he did today. You can already imagine the stares you'll get in the school hallway. And it's his fault, the one person you tried so hard to please, to love. You had enough.

You carefully stood up but soon fell down again, feeling a terrible sting of pain in your leg as a soft yelp left your lips. Your attention went to your hurting leg, quickly looking at it and noticing some blood stains on the white pants you were wearing. You slowly turned your leg around to examine it and you gasped in horror as you saw a stick pointing out of your leg. That's the reason it hurt, you probably landed so hard that a stick managed to stab through your skin. You stared at the bloody mess with widened eyes, thinking of what to do now. 'Pull it out?'  That was the first thing you thought. 'No, no it'll hurt too much...'

You just had to get home, then you'll look for what you can do with it. You took a deep shakey breath and forced yourself to stand up. You wobbled forward, dragging your leg in pain as you whimpered softly. All of a sudden, you felt a painful sting in your leg again, you tried to ignore it despite it hurting like hell. But as you took another step, your leg gave up and you fell down, letting out a gasp as you harshly hit the ground again.

After laying completely still on the ground for a minute, you turned over in pain, rolling on your back. You looked up at the sky with teary eyes, heavy breath escaping your lips while you wiped the dirt and leafs off of your face. Your body was weak after the fall, but still, you HAD to go home. There was no way you could just lay here until someone found you, which would likely never happen anyway.

You put both your hands beside you on the ground for support and sat up with a grunt. You held your leg still as you wrapped your other hand around the stick that was stabbed through your flesh. And with a clenched jaw, you began to pull. You let out a pained scream, you could feel the stick move inside your leg. After a minute of trying to pull the stick out of you, you unwrapped your hand and closed your eyes, letting yourself fall back against the ground in exhaustion. It wouldn't get out, it indeed hurt too much.

After laying on the ground for another minute, catching your breath and trying to calm yourself from hyperventilating, you decided you'd try to go home, even though you still had the stick stabbed through your leg. You had to, you had no other choice.

'Cmon [Y/N] get a grip on yourself'

You slowly stood up, hands beside you on the ground for support again as you pushed yourself up. You clenched your teeth as you stood. You took a slow step, trying to put not too much pressure on your leg and started limping your way home, nearly falling at some points.