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Chapter 1 - Blindsided
You feel so different when you’re drunk. It’s like you’re not the same person, and that you can do all you fucking want, because you’re not you anymore. No constraints, just freedom. At least, that was what I thought. I've never drank myself into oblivion before. But today…today was different. I actually had a reason to do so.
Looking through the bars at the sleeping policeman, I sighed. Maybe it’s the place where I will live forever from now on. It’s not that bad, when you put away the guys looking at you weirdly, the tags on the walls, the lack of toilets, and the bars that keep you enclosed.
I thought I finally had everything I needed. Ya see, I’m an in-demand rapper, a loving father, I have money and all the women I can want. But I only wanted one. You know, the one you can never have because she’s fucking better than you. Yeah, so, that one.
I almost killed her the day I met her, but still, she smiled and told me she was used to it. If only the news people knew that! Marshal Matters, the great “bad boy”, almost harming a poor blind girl! And, in the same time, he falls for her. The thought only make me chuckles; okay, scratch that, I’m drunk.
She’s blind. But still, each time I looked at her I was feeling like she was looking at me. Everything I did with her was so special, so unique. I was just Marsh, not some piece of meat everyone keeps looking at with hungry eyes.
She knew the real me. She was one of the only ones, beside my family. She was the only one. I lost her. And with her, my heart.
The door clicked open, and my eyes with it.
“Matters?” The big bold policeman asked. I stood up, trying not to fall as I stumbled. “You’re out.”
**
“You’re an idiot.”
The car kept moving, my head kept spinning, and I chuckled. “I know that, Proof.”
He sighed. I could almost see the wheels in his head rolling faster and faster. He was going to say that I should have told her from the start, that I’m just a fucking moron because I didn’t say to her that I was Eminem, or something like that. But, Proof, you don’t understand.
“You should have…Marsh, she had a right to know who you were, and what was your job. I mean, she was your girlfriend! She felt betrayed.”
My eyes closed. No, I wasn’t bored, I was thinking. Or at least, trying to. “I know. I know, she felt like I took advantage of her disability.” My voice was slurred, and I hated to hear myself like this, even if I was used to it.
“That’s what you did, without really realizing it, but that’s what you did.”
My head was already down, but if I could have, I would have dug a hole in the ground for it to hide in. “It’s okay, Proof, I already feel bad enough, I think. I feel bad, and stupid.”
He shrugged. “It’s all your fault. Don’t come and think I’ll comfort you. How did you finish up in jail, by the way?”
I ran a hand over my face, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t really know…disturbance of the peace, I think…”
“Great.” He rolled his eyes.
**
A hand touched my face, and woke me up. One eye…slowly. The sun was shining brightly, killing the few brain cells I had left. The eye went closed fast, very fast.
“Marshall?”
Her voice. Damn! Her voice! She was here. And all I wanted to do was crawl to my bathroom and throw up.
“Come on Marsh, you’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
It was like she could read my mind. She helped me up and I ran to the sink, vomiting. She sat on the toilet, her hand always on the wall to help herself.
“Proof called me.”
I washed my teeth, looking at my dishevelled appearance. I was somewhat fortunate of her blindness. Hell, I’m a bastard.
“He shouldn’t have.”
“He told me you could need a hand this morning.”
“Not yours. I don’t deserve it.”
“Here he goes with the self-deprecation…” she sighed, and I almost wanted to laugh.
“It’s the truth.”
She shrugged, standing up. “Come on, I’ll make you some eggs. You need to eat.”
The thought made my stomach heave, but I knew she was right. So, I followed her to the kitchen, where she began to cook, knowing exactly what was where. She almost lived here, in fact.
She amazed me. She couldn’t see, right? How could she cook ? That was fucking fantastic.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. You already told me.”
“I know you think I took advantage of you…”
“You did. But, like the first time we met, I’m used to it. It’s a common thing, for me. I just thought you were different.”
“I am. I swear I am. It was so great, with you! I was me, Marshall. Not Marshall Matters, the rapper. I was the Detroit guy who is living his dream.”
“You could have been Marshall without avoiding the fact that you’re a rapper. I wouldn’t have acted differently around you.”
“I know that. But I didn’t then.”
“Well, that’s too bad.” She put two eggs on a plate, sitting in front of me while giving me the food. I whispered a thanks. I ate in silence, and it was like she was looking at me. Her eyes were blank, but not for me. For me, they reflected her pain. And it was unbearable.
“Listen…”
“No. I’m tired of listening to you. Just…shut up, and let me feel you, for a last time.”
Like she ordered me, I shut up, and let her do what she wanted to do. She approached her chair from mine, and took my head in her hands. Her fingertips were grazing my skin, discovering once again my face. She knew it by heart, now, but still, she was always doing that. She put a hand on my forehead, grazing my hair, and I saw her smiling. Her eyes were shining. Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry.
A finger followed the curve of my mouth, while another followed the curve of my left eyebrow. I shivered. She touched my set jaw, and caressed it slowly. My muscles relaxed against her touch.
Her fingers on me left like burning traces, and I was still feeling them when they left me. I sighed, and opened my eyes. She was crying, and I was hating myself.
“Goodbye, Marshall.”
“No, wait.”
She held up a hand, forbidding me to continue. “Too late is too late. I’m sorry too.”
She stood on tiptoes, and kissed me. I responded immediately, not wanting this kiss to end. She pulled away, and I was already missing her delicate touch.
I didn’t heard the door close behind her. There was only the beating of my heart. Empty.Author: morvan_e@hotmail.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.