Remember Me (Sequel To Tragic Endings)

Preface

Aisha's P.O.V.

2012

I hear a strange noise right outside of my door and go to check it out.

I turn the doorknob slowly and peak my head outside and into the dark hallway, looking for one of my daddy's security guards, but I don't see any of them.

What I do see is this brown haired tattooed man with piercing blue eyes start to casually stroll down the hallway.

There's another choking sound being heard somewhere behind him, like somebody is being subdued.

My heart pounds loudly in my chest and I can't move.

It's the middle of the night, my father is out on a meeting somewhere, trying to revive his career after being falsely accused of all kinds of horrible things, putting a hit out on me, his own daughter for one thing, by this man called Marshall Mathers that goes by the stage name Eminem.

The same man that is now only a couple of feet away from me, advancing towards me.

I gasp and try to run back into the safety of my room and close and lock the door.

But he moves faster than me, wedging his foot in the door and he forces his way in.

"Aisha, listen to me," he speaks urgently.

Something about the way he says my name feel familiar to me. HE feels so familiar to me...

Which makes sense, I guess. My father did tell me that me and this Eminem guy have history.

I back away from him and my heart continues to pound loudly.

My head tells me that I should be terrified of him.

My daddy told me that Eminem is a bad man. A violent man. He told me that in the past Eminem had tricked me into a relationship with him. All to have a one up on my daddy since they have apparently had this strange feud going on between them for years. He said that Eminem then proceeded to treat me horribly and abuse me.

I don't remember any of this though due to the head trauma I had recently suffered.

But my daddy did fill in the gaps for me, telling me all about my past with this dude and why I should stay away from him.

So, I do know that I should be scared.

Only I'm not.

I mean, I kind of am, just because this crazy ass white boy has apparently broken into my father's house in the middle of the freaking night, and that in itself is pretty damn scary.

But like... Laying eyes on him now, he doesn't look all that terrifying to me, kind of intimidating maybe, but he doesn't look like a monster my father has described him to me to be.

Looks can be deceiving though, of course, or so they say.

"Who..." I start to say then catch myself, because technically, I do know who he is, I've seen pictures of him and myself in old magazines. So, I'm guessing asking him who he is is kind of dumb. "What are you doing here?! Why are you here?!" I then blurt out.

I watch an expression pass in his pale blue eyes that almost seems like hurt. And I immediately feel bad for hurting him.

Then even worse for being so stupid. Like, why would I feel bad about upsetting this guy?! He's made my life a living hell in the past, according to my father anyway.