Dante's Angel (s) {Dmc Fanfiction #2}

Part 1

(Part 1)

It is not a nice weather for a woman who had just lost her parents to look through their things. Outside, a storm rages against my window, and the fluorescent lamp overhead isn't exactly very strong. Dad and Mum didn't get around fixing the light in their room before they died.

The tears had already run out dry, so I looked around with my resting bitch face, too drained to make any more emotions. It is the type of lethargy that reaches straight into your soul, leaving you wondering if you will ever recover from it. It drained even more from me when I felt a trickle of guilt at how unfamiliar my parent's room was to me.

I had moved out to live on my own when I was of legal age. It was due to the nature of my work that I had live away from them, because it was dangerous for them to live with a demon hunter. They understood, but they always asked me to go back to visit them. Initially, I had done so often. Afterwards, when my career went into full swing, I went back to my real home lesser and lesser, so much so that the house felt different to me now.

Sighing at the deadline that I was left with to clean up the house, I set to work removing all the little things that Mum and Dad had around the house. The house was being taken back by the government, because their contract had purely been on a rental basis –that the death of the owner would mean eviction for everyone still living inhabiting the property. I had been given a two weeks' notice, but I had been busy for the funeral and mourning that I hadn't been able to get around cleaning up the house. Now, I was left with a day and a half to clean everything up.

There was no time for nostalgia as I packed everything neatly into boxes. Photos, albums, clothes, trinkets and every tiny thing that reminded me of my loving parents went into boxes that were left close to the door. I could not bring the furniture along, and had already informed the authorities that the furniture could be left for sale –and profits would be directly transferred to my bank account.

I guess that the good thing about being so busy after the death of my parents was the fact that I didn't have time to mourn and lose myself into depression. In fact, I was the prime target for the scary syndrome of depression –I was left alone to fend for myself without many that I could rely on for emotional support.

Still, setting aside my weepy moments, I put everything in order and moved from one room to another. I even cleared my childhood room, bidding it goodbye once and for all. The house held happy memories in every nook and cranny, but we had to move on. My parents had moved on into the next world, and I would simply have to learn to move on into another phase of my life as an orphan.

I cleaned up Dad's study room, and stacked his books together, making a mental note to raise a bazaar soon to sell away the things I didn't need. It felt bad to sell away things that were once precious to my parents, but my mum was always a person who believed in helping others. If selling away their clothes and things at lower prices could help someone, Mum and Dad would be happier in Heaven.

And thus, I moved through everything and cleared through the mountain of memory-triggering things. With a final look around my old house, I kissed it goodbye, closed and locked the door behind me, signalling a new road that I was about to take in my life. For the first time, I was going to walk alone, without my parent's comforting warmth shielding me from behind.

Going back to my own apartment, I sorted through the things that I deemed to be sold, donated, and kept. I lasted all through the day, fell asleep, woke up, got things to eat, and started all over again. It was the classic things that a person who had just lost her parents in a sudden car accident would do. It wasn't a particularly horrible accident (not the kind to be picked up by the local news), but it was lethal enough to kill Dad on site. Mum was rushed to emergency, but she died hours later from excessive bleeding. They were returning home from attending the wedding of one of Dad's colleagues at work.