100 Days to Hell

Chapter One

Chapter One: Demon Soul Reaper Brat

Melissa

It was a cloudy and foggy December morning. Dad and I were in the car on our way to the supermarket.

"This is such a long list. I wonder how we will pay for these." I pondered while staring at the paper that Mom gave me for our errand to go buy groceries. The list reached my toes. I don't know why Mom needs pesticide when I didn't even see a single pest inside the house. Well Mom is a clean freak. She'd wash the lettuce ten times just to make sure it was totally free from germs.

Dad sighed. "Oh well your mother wants a lot of stuff. She's pregnant so it's expected that she is craving." Like she wants to consume pesticide and dish washing liquid. I rolled my eyes.

My mom is three months pregnant. She'll be giving birth around the month of June. We've been arguing over the gender of the baby. Personally, I want the kid to be a boy. Mom wants a girl. Dad was supposed to the tiebreaker yet he said he will love the kid regardless of the gender. Dad's is like our referee. He keeps on playing the peacemaker.

Dad has a calm demeanor while Mom is an outrageous alpha female. I get my unstable personality from her. Every time my mom and I clash, it's a World War IV in the making. Get involved, then you'd wish you didn't cross our paths.

"I am a girl so we don't need another one in the family. I want a brother!" I stated. I don't want frilly stuff. I'm not wearing those just for the sake of a sister. Brothers are much cooler. Well it depends but I don't want a sister no matter what. I'll be Daddy's only girl.

"Your mother says otherwise." Dad laughed. "She says that you are too boyish and one of the guys."

I frowned. "I don't like a sassy little princess who likes pink." I puffed my cheeks and pouted. Sometimes, I like acting like a spoiled brat when it comes to Dad but never when it comes to Mom. She's too tough to go against.

"You will never know. Maybe she'll turn out an innocent and kind girl. Besides, pink is the standard favorite color of most girls."

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Well I'm not like most girls."

He laughed another hearty laugh. "My little girl has grown up already." He looked at me at the rearview mirror and smiled. Dad was feeling nostalgic and emotional. Sometimes, I'm afraid that Dad will just break down.

One second ago Dad and I were talking so nonchalantly. The next scene was a total chaos. It all happened so fast.

"Dad watch out!" I screamed.

Dad didn't have enough time to swerve the car. Our car rammed the truck. I hit my head on the windshield which was now severely damaged. Pieces of broken glass pierced my skin. Rivulets of blood seeped through the cuts on my flesh. I was still conscious. I hastily fumbled with my seatbelt, trying to release myself. Luckily, the seatbelt wasn't fastened properly so I easily broke free.

I noticed that my right leg was stuck. I pulled very hard and finally got free. I winced because of the pain coming from a deep cut was left on my skin. Moving around was aggravating my gash on my right leg. I didn't care if it hurt me but what mattered to me the most at that time was Dad's condition. When the car hit the truck, the door to the driver's seat swung open and Dad fell off the car.

Spots of blood were blocking the edges of my vision but I easily spotted Dad by the trees. I limped my way there. Dad's body was motionless. I checked for a pulse or a sign that he was still alive. Nothing. There was no pulse nor was he breathing. Fear took over me. Blood kept on pouring out of the deep wound on my head. My eyesight blurred and I could barely see my father's lifeless corpse. The world was spinning and I was dizzy. In a matter of seconds, I blacked out. My body collapsed next to my father.