So Far...(Eminem Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Nightmares

~Brianna's POV~

I was fuming, done with the bullshit and ready to do something about it. Anger clouded my thought process and all I saw was red, though I didn't really know why I was so infuriated. Couldn't remember where I was, what had happened, or why this emotion consumed me. All I knew in that moment was that I hated her and she needed to pay for everything she'd done. She needed to die. Every fiber of my being believed that nothing would ever be okay until her existence was finished.

I'd considered it many times, but had never acted on the thought. Soon she could be dead and I'd be happy to receive her life insurance so that finally we'd be rid of her, and Brandon and I could live happily for once. It could work, but only if it looked like an accident.

The bloodlust had taken over, and I had no choice but to act. Finally realizing where I was, I walked over to the two-person dinner table in the shabby kitchen of the trailer. I examined the plastic baggie I'd left behind after replacing mom's ambien with another type of white pill. There were no pills in it, but the white powder in the bottom showed evidence that they'd been there and been consumed. She had consumed it all, so I knew that when I went to her room I'd find her completely passed out and weak as well. I hadn't given her enough to cause an overdose, that'd be too easy.

Mom was just barely conscious as I drug her into the bathroom. I left the room, preparing for my task, and came back wearing a pair of latex gloves. Under normal circumstances, you'd think that I'd be nervous or sick to my stomach right now, possibly even scared, but no. Any bit of compassion I'd ever had was gone, and all that was left was the hatred. I felt as if I were completing some irritating task, or getting rid of trash for example. I stared at her as I sat on the edge of the tub and ran the bath water. At this state of unconsciousness she didn't look the the vile, evil bitch I'd always known. If you didn't know her, you would never think of her as a monster, because she doesn't look like one. But I knew. I knew the terrible things she was capable of. She made me fucking sick, but our parents almost always shape who we become someday. It's their guidance or inability to guide us that makes us who we are. But my parents didn't give a shit, that's why I am the way that I am. And right now it looks like I'm worse than my mom.

I stopped the water, picked up as much of her as I could, and placed her in the tub. She didn't resist, I think she was asleep. I sat back down on the edge and cupped my hand around her jaw. I slowly pushed her head completely under water and began counting. I just had to keep her under there for four minuets, four minuets was all I had to endure, but I knew that those minuets would feel like hours. After about a minuet and a half, her brain finally began to realizing it wasn't receiving any oxygen. She squirmed under my grasp, and my reaction was to hold her down more firmly. Two minuets. She moved more, as if she were tossing and turn in a bed, but also trying to raise her head and get the oxygen she needed. Three minutes. This was taking forever! At this point things got intense. She began thrashing wildly and her eyes opened under the water. She fought with all the strength she could muster to pull herself from my grasp, but I only held her tighter under the water, finally beginning to feel sick. Mom kicked and thrashed and tried to scream, but she was too weak. She couldn't fight me, she couldn't win, she couldn't make it out of this. Because she was finally getting what she deserved. 'But did she really deserve this?' a voice in the back of my head questioned. I mentally told the voice to go fuck itself. Four minuets. Mom stopped thrashing and her grip completely loosened. I pulled back immediately as I watched her body begin to float upward just barely a few inches in the water and then turn over face down.

That's when the sickening feeling in my stomach began to rise. The fuck had I just done? I always knew I was probably a little sicker than most, but maybe I was more of a monster than mom ever was. I dropped to my knees and vomited into the toilet.

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I woke up and did exactly what I'd been doing at the end of the dream. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. My headache wasn't so bad anymore and I'd gotten all the alcohol outta my system now. That dream had been so intense. I felt as if my blood still boiled with the hate and anger. Could I really be this evil? Or is that evil? Maybe it was okay to wish for the pain to just end. Maybe I was just a little bit sicker than most.

I went back to the bedroom and took a look around. I've always had a fascination with the human mind and I wondered if this was what it was like to take a journey into Marshall's. His thoughts were clearly displayed for me to see. Writing all over the walls, thoughts, feelings, but lyrics mostly. Sheets of papers lying every where covered in scrawled, hurried handwriting. I found a worn notebook by the bedside and read the first page.

"One day I plan to be a family man happily married

I wanna grow to be so old that I have to be carried

Till I'm glad to be buried

And leave this crazy world

It may be early to be planning this stuff

Cause I'm still struggling hard to be the man, and it's tough

Cause man it's been rough, but still I manage enough

I've been taken advantage of, damaged and scuffed

My hands have been cuffed

But I don't panic and huff, frantic and puff

Or plan to give up, the minute shit hits the fan it erupts

I'm anteing up double or nothing, I've been trouble enough

And I'm sick of struggling and suffering, see

My destiny's to rest at ease, till I'm impressed and pleased

With my progress, I won't settle for less than cheese

I'm on a quest to seize all, my own label to call

I'm too stable to fall, the pressure motivates

To know I hold the weight of boulders on my shoulder blades

I seen the golden gates to heaven on Earth

Where they don't pull a weapon on you when you stepping on turf,

It's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)

I'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)

It's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)

It's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)

It's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)

I'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)

It's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)

It's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)"

Okay so the guy has obviously got some serious potential and a shit ton of talent. But how is he gonna make it? It has to be a fucking bitch trying to get singed to a label. Maybe I could help him some how. I mean, I'm not lyrically talented like him, but I was pretty good at making tough decisions. I'd had to become an adult way too early. Maybe I could take care of him in a certain sense. I couldn't believe I was even thinking about this. I already had too much shit to worry about, but all of I sudden I just wanted to be there for him. I desired to be with him, by his side. I had remembered the events of the night before by then and I realized that we really hadn't had sex. Good. I wanted to at least be able to remember my first time, and it would be nice if it were somewhat special. But I basically knew at that time that I would like for Marshall to be my first. But a long time from now, when I was really ready. I had no idea what the future held for me at that point, but I was so eager to find out. At that moment I heard shuffling in the hallway and Proof peaked through the slightly open door at me.

"Yo, girl, you up yet?" Proof unfortunately looked like he was still feeling the effects of the night before.

I nodded and stood up. "Yeah, man." I walked out to the living room with him. "You got anythin to eat 'round here, dude?"