A Bet With The Devils

Chapter 40: Don't Hate The Player Bitches, Hate The Game

Feel free to point out any spelling, grammar, or spacing errors. I would really appreciate it and will fix them right away :)

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Ch40: Don't Hate The Player Bitches, Hate The Game

I wake up feeling much better than I have for the past few days. Especially because today was my first night in my own bed since the accident.

God, I love being home.

"Sweetie" I hear a knock on the door. "Do you want pancakes?"

"Yes please," I tell my mom.

Pancakes sound really good right now.

"Elliana," I hear my dad yell. "Snow White just pooped on the stairs. Do you want me to just pick it up or?"

"I got it," I yell.

So I'm trying this potty training system I found online to help teach Snow White to use her litter box. Usually cats have no issues using their litter box, but apparently Snow likes the third step on the stairs.

Yay!

"Just be careful when walking down the stairs," my dad yells.

"Okay," I yell back before throwing my hair in a high ponytail

I quickly make my way outside and find Snow sitting outside my door.

"Hi Snow," I pick her up and go back into my room leading her into the bathroom before placing her on top of the litter box. "You need to stop using the stairs and start using your own litter box."

She just sits in the box and stares at me.

Okay, so the system isn't really working.

She does whatever the hell she wants, but it's worth trying.

"Dad," I yell and I can hear him groan.

I'll pick it up," he says and I smile.

"Thanks," I say.

"Yeah whatever," he says and I laugh.

"Be good today Snow," I pet the top of her head before going towards my closet. I put on a simple grey hoodie, some light blue ripped jeans, and a pair of black combat boots.

No make up for me today. I'm too lazy.

I grab my cellphone, and keys before going down the steps and into the kitchen.

The smell of delicious homemade pancakes hits my nostrils and I grin.

"Here you go sweetie," my mom hands me a plate of pancakes and I smile.

"Thanks mom," I say going over to the fridge and pulling out the orange juice.

"The house feels empty," my mom says and I sight.

"Don't start mom," I tell her.

I know what she's trying to do.

"What?" she scoffs. "I'm just saying that it feels empty that's all."

"What feels empty?" my dad asks as he walks into the kitchen.

"The house," I say and he nods.

"It kinda does," he says and I frown.

"Whatever," I grab a glass cup and serve myself orange juice.

"Do I smell pancakes?" I hear a voice yell followed by the sound of footsteps going down the stairs before he walks into the kitchen.

"I made some," my mom says. "Would you want some?"

"I'm good," Alex shrugs. "Thanks. I usually eat plain toast before school."