Juanita Monroe-Giancola was always a people pleaser. Doing stuff she didn't necessarily want to do just to make others happy and bring a smile on their face and brighten up their day.
Especially after the death of her twin sister, Maria.
Juanita fee...
A/N: I have to put a trigger warning right off the bat on this very first chapter because it contains themes of heavily implied attempted suicide.
And I have based this whole situation very losely on something I've read before, Eminem attempting just that by taking too many Tylenols.
I have no idea if it actually happened, and I don't mean to say that it did or mean any disrespect.
But I did think it had worked for this corny story I had wanted to write, so here we are...
Oh, and also, there's virtually no dialogue in this chapter, just a bunch of fictional Marshall being all on his head, so it might be kind of boring idk
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Marshall's P.O.V.
April, 1998
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My vision blurs and there's a weird ringing in my ears.
I force myself to sit up from laying on.. the floor, Ithink, the heels of my palmsmakingcontact with my face and attenting to rub the blurriness out of my eyes, clearingthem out somewhat.
The whole time I'm aware of the sharp pain radiating somewhere in my gut, it feels like the right side of my stomach is inflamed, and there's the smell of vomit hanging in the air, and my throat burns.
I'm disoriented as fuck, but once I'm finally able to see a bit more clearly, my eyes land at the familiar settings of the room, I realize that I'm still at the studio.
And once the ringing clears up in my head somewhat, I can hear this track playing through the speakers, some pitiful asshole rapping about what hitting rock buttom feels like.
It takes me a few more seconds to come to the epiphany that it's actually me rapping on the track. It's my own goddamn voice. And then it clicks to me.
That's right, I had recorded that song right before I swallowed all them pills.
Was supposed to be my damn farewell to this world, the last big fuck you to it or some shit.
The sharp pain in my gut becoming damn near unbearable by this point, I attempt to swallow my saliva, but the inside of my mouth feels dry as hell. My throat constricting violently, I feel myself start to gag like I'm about to barf or some shit, but when I crouch on the floor, nothing comes out, and I just end up dry heaving.
There's a pool of vomit not to far from where I'm sat on the floor though, no doubt it's come from me, I probably threw up right before I passed out.
