How Did We Get Here - Eminem Fan Fiction

It's Over

January 1, 2005

My tired and alcohol-filled body is now flushed with rage. The same girl that knocked on the door weeks ago, is lying in my bed. Scrambling to grab her clothes from the floor, Tristan stands and pulls on his shorts. Completely calm, he looks annoyed as I walk to the other side of the bed. Losing myself in the madness of it all, I push her into the nightstand, "Hey, he said you two broke up" she yells as she buttons her jeans. "Get the fuck out" I scream, and toss her shoes out the bedroom door. I'm not surprised that he's cheating on me, the signs were there and we both haven't been honest with each other. I had the chance to be with someone else but I never acted on it. So many times, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, I sacrificed my happiness for his and I did everything that he asked of me. The fact that he brought this girl into the bed that we share shows that he never gave a fuck about me, my body ignites into flames infuriated by all of it. "Fucking leave" I scream as she hurries out of the room. Before I can gather my thoughts, Tristan approaches and grips my arm, "Calm the fuck down" he growls and I push him away, "Get away from me. I'm fucking done with you" I shout and walk to the closet. Sliding it open, I pull out my luggage and he yanks it from my hand. "I said to calm the fuck down" he growls again and towers over me, "I'm not gonna calm down, I'm fucking leaving" I reply and reach for the suitcase handle. "Where the fuck have you been dressed up like that?" Tristan asks snatching it back. "At a fucking party. Why do you care?" I shout and he shoves me hard, slamming the suitcase down on the ground. A swift punch lands on the side of my face, his hand grips my throat tightly and my head slams against the wall behind me. Those vacant brown eyes looking down into mine, another hit to my cheek comes and I close my eyes. His grip releases and I collapse on the floor like a ragdoll. Adrenaline taking over, I stand up quickly and push him away as I try to reach the open door. Extending his arm, he shoves me into the dresser effortlessly, and I crash against it. Feeling his hands grip me, he slams me onto the mattress and climbs on top of my body. Rather than fear for my life, all think about is Nate and everything he said, his warnings rattle inside. Another blow to my face comes, and I scream and squirm to get him off of me. The weight of his body compresses my chest and his rage-filled face hovers over mine. Pushing my palm against his cheek, I scratch at his face. His hands grip both wrists and he presses me down, overpowering my efforts. Suffocating below him, I shove my knee into his groin, and he rolls onto his side. Driven by survival instinct, I rush to the door again, knowing that if I don't get out now, I may never. Tristan jumps from the bed and yanks my hair, pulling me backward, I stumble to the side. His giant palm slams the door shut and my heart drops. Backing up against the wall, I realize that I'm trapped as he rushes toward me. "You're not fucking leaving" he snaps as his open palm connects to my face. My back hits the wall again, his fingers grasp and tighten around my neck, with a vigorous pull and then a forceful push, my skull drives into the drywall. I gasp and everything fades to black.

Before I open my eyes, I realize that I'm still in the bedroom. Slumped on the cold floor, I open one eye slowly and see Tristan's feet planted on the ground next to the bed. My heart beats quickly, but a voice inside reminds me not to move. Laying still, I think carefully about how to get out of the room. My mind is scrambled and my eyes are blurry, but I know this is my only chance. Tilting my head slightly, I see his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his palms. Pausing, I think about my keys hanging from the hook by the front door and I push myself up. On my feet, I freeze and it feels like time has stopped completely. Keeping my eyes on him, he hasn't moved or noticed, I bolt and jerk the door open. My heart racing, I tear my keys off the hook and all I can think about is escaping this nightmare. Throwing open the front door, I run and don't look back, scared that he could be right behind. Once again, barefoot on the icy grass, I reach my car and lock the doors as I get in. Turning the ignition over, I slam the car into reverse and look up to see Tristan yelling from the porch. Forcing the gear into drive, I speed away as fast as I can. My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel, and I watch my misty breath cloud in the cold air. It doesn't feel like I'm in my body, in slow motion, I'm watching myself from the outside. Driving toward Nick's, I look down to see blood drip on my thighs then panic consumes me. Looking in the rearview mirror, the blood is coming down from my nose. My lip is split open again in the same spot as last time. My left eye aches badly now and it's hard to focus or see the frosty gray road. Clarity swoops in and I realize the commotion it will cause if show up at Nick's house like this. They are all hungover, his parents will call the police, Emily will cry and I don't want everyone to see me this way. Nate's voice rings in my head, I stop the car and rapidly open my CD case, pulling out the paper he gave to me. More panic sets in as I realize that I don't have my phone or my purse. Taking long deep breaths, I remind myself that I am safe but I need to find a phone. Talking myself down from a full-blown panic attack, I breathe steadily as my body still trembles. Driving to the main intersection, I think about the old payphone outside of the diner, next to the bus stop. It's below freezing, and the sun is rising slowly, I'm in a cocktail dress with no coat or shoes, and my teeth begin to chatter. Digging for coins in the console, I jump out and rush into the phone booth, sliding the door open, my feet stick to the frozen metal below. Gripping the phone to my ear, I dial Nate's number and it goes straight to voicemail. My jaw rattles uncontrollably as I try to remember Emily's number, but I can't think. Looking at the other number scratched on the paper, my fingers can't dial fast enough. It rings four times, and I almost hang up to get back in my car, "Hello" I hear as I breathe rapidly, "Yo, who the fuck is this?" the groggy voice groans on the other end. My heart still racing, I let out a small gulp, "This is Jayme, Nate gave me this number. I'm sorry to call you but Nate isn't answering" I ramble with my words racing faster than my heart rate. "Are you okay?" I hear, while my skin burns from the frozen air, and my body convulsses to warm itself. Tears flow slowly, "No, I'm not" I reply breathlessly. "Tell me where you are and stay there" he demands. Looking outside of the booth, I read the name of the bus stop, and describe my car. "I don't think that I can drive anymore" I mumble, "No, stay there" he says and the phone hangs up. Climbing back into the car, the heat now on full blast, it shocks my body with pins and needles all over. Shaking in my seat, my head pounds and I'm afraid to look in the rearview mirror again. Turning on the radio, I curl up in my seat as the tears burn my cheek as they fall.