The Best Devilish Mistake {Dmc Fanfiction}

Part 23

Part 23

I wake up back to myself at the bottom of the familiar hill I fell from. If anyone was near Kryst Lane, Chrisvale, on April 5th at approximately 6pm, they would have heard a mad woman screaming and cheering for joy.

That would have been me.

I don’t know what I’m more amazed at –the fact that I’ve been gone for six months, the fact that my body is still here at the bottom of the hill after six months, or the fact that my phone still has battery, and is still on me.

Still, I take the chance, and call 911, because the aches of my rolling down the hill is coming back to me. I don’t know how I could have such amazing lag time, but the pain of broken bones and cracked head of rolling down a hill comes to me as I come back to my human self, back in my own Human World.

The process of recovery was pretty messed up, but the craziest thing was the paparazzi. It turned out that my empty coffin had been buried weeks after they pronounced me missing and dead. The gangsters who had shot the tree and had me rolling down the hill had confessed to seeing me fall and roll. They were all arrested and locked up behind bars, but when they couldn’t find my body and just bits and pieces of my torn clothes on the slope of the hill, they presumed I was dead.

My ‘revival from the dead’ became highly publicized, and I made the mistake of spilling the fact that I’d dropped into Limbo, the Devil May Cry World, while I was under the influence of drugs. People who intially looked at me in awe of cheating death, called me crazy, and I was sent to brain scans to make sure my brain was working right.

Doctors said I must have had hallucinations, but no one could explain why my wounds were fresh as if I had just rolled down the hill only the day before. No one could explain why I went missing for six months, before coming back to life. No one believed me, but there was no reason anyone would.

To the world, I must have hit my head too hard on a stray rock, and I must have ended up with hallucinations. Or maybe I’d been dreaming in my near-death experience.

They came up with a million and one ideas.

Then afterwards, they simply said I was suffering from shock. The roll down the hill ‘gave me too much a shock’ and my mind ‘created figments of imaginations to help me cope with the pain’.

My parents were worried as hell, and I loved them all the more, knowing that in a parallel world, I had another set of parents who loved me equally much.

I was put into counselling, and when it didn’t get better, I was referred to a psychiatrist.

And that is how it all happened.

How I fell into Limbo, how I fell in love with Vergil, how he took my virginity, and how I escaped from it all, finally knowing who my real parents are.

This is all true, I am not lying. It really happened.

I am not afraid of what the world says, because I believe.

And my mother once told me, if I believe, then my love will pay off.

 __________________________________________________________________________________________

“…And my mother once told me, if I believe, then my love will pay off.” I conclude, reaching forwards for the cup of water that was waiting for me on the desk in front of me.

Over time, we’d migrated from the chair to the desk that my psychiatrist used, with Marielle sitting at her seat, trying to make herself feel professional while I narrated my story from the patient's seat. There is really no need to state exactly why I love my sister, but the thing about Marielle is: she accepts everything.