Wait, what? Me and Eminem?! (An Eminem Fan-Fiction) *Completed*

Chapter Thirty Seven

Magnificent Marshall minions, welcome to Chapter Thirty Seven! As always, there's an author's note at the end, and remember, this chapter picks up where the last one left off, so don't get confused(:

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It was late. Much too late to be out. But I didn't care. Thoughts fuzzy, adrenaline coursing through my veins, fingers fumbling, I threw on a discolored hoodie over my raggedy t-shirt, shoved my feet into moccasins, and lumbered out the door to my car. Passing by Dane's house, the noises of teenage boys echoed through the thin walls, and any other day, I would have simply ignored it. But tonight, everything seemed unusually loud. Their voices danced in my head tauntingly, and once I had locked myself in my car, even the silence was blaring relentlessly.

I sat there for a while, fixated on the smallest indent in the steering wheel, eyelids fluttering with a mixture of shock and sleepiness. This was the last thing I'd expected. I was now an orphan, although the term no longer had full meaning for someone my age.

I recall from when I was little, I would watch the movie Cinderella day after day, for almost six months. I was fascinated by her beauty and poise, but the fact that she had been unwillingly deserted captured my young imagination. Mother and father both dead, and scarcely spoken of, she was raised in a brutal household, while she herself was modest and pleasant despite the difficulties. I remember now that I was terrified of being abandoned by my parents, and did all I could to remain beside them as much as possible. My mother noticed my strange behavior; yet didn't bother to take interest, brushing it off. My father was too tired to take note, but they both had had fair intentions.

I wasn't supposed to feel like an orphan now. I had discarded the idea immediately after my mother left because I was convinced my father and I would have an eternal relationship. As a teenager, she barely crossed my mind, and the times she did, I treated her with scorn. Even when she'd returned just recently, I'd done my best to distance myself from her. And now, I was regretting it more than I should have been, considering our history.

She had never been generous. And my attempt to throw back karma at her had been foiled, and now, in some cold office, her lifeless, stiff body was laying, the interior ravaged and damaged by years of using various drugs. People in lab coats were probably walking around her, cutting her open, doing tests on her blood, on her organs, and then sewing her together once more. I couldn't picture her like that. She seemed too resilient and bold, too audacious to fade away without a trace.

I started the car, and numbly maneuvered it out of the driveway, down the dark, damp streets. I drove the vehicle past several groups of people, mostly male, large blunts in hand. The headlights of my car lit their faces, and in awe, they stared as I made my way into the distance, unafraid. I knew not where I was going. I just gripped the wheel harder and prayed, prayed that the medical examiner's office was open.

I naturally, having no approximate location of the office, first drove to the police office, of where I somewhat knew. The station was open, if dimly lit, and parking my car and snatching my keys, I exited the parking lot and entered the building.

Telephones were ringing persistently, and cops, some of them alert, some of them ragged-looking, were doing their best to manage the ongoing situations. The faint scent of rain, rubber, and coffee lingered in the air, and I stood discreetly in the corner of the room, my senses off and quite distracted.

Before I knew how many minutes had passed, I felt a light, cautious hand on my shoulder.

"Miss?" the man said before I had the chance to turn my head in order to inspect him.

He was tall, blonde, and his piercing blue eyes stood out against his evenly tan skin. He didn't belong in a police department; I would have pictured him as more of a male model. Uniform tight around his broad shoulders and impressive muscles, he steered me to face him, and our eyes locked.