The Monster (My Best Friend Eminem, My Husband Marshall Mathers)

Chapter forty-one

Chapter forty-one

            THE PLAN WAS SIMPLE. We had no proof of Vincent killing Tina to bring to the police nor do we have any proof of Vincent forguing the People magazines. It was up to us to stop him. The plan scared me at first; we were to sneak into his place and find the murderer weapon he killed Tina with and collect enough evidence to prove that he trashed my office.

            I moaned to myself at times, wishing it was all a dream. “You ok?” Kim asked.

“No, we can turn back…I can…move the family to Jersey…” I stuttered.

“He will follow you remember, plus, it is bad enough I do not see my daughter anymore…I don’t need her in another state” she said. Feeling as if I owe Kim a great deal, if I make it out alive, I will allow her to see Hailie, if Hailie wants too.

            Kim took us to a rundown part of Detroit. “Yup, Vincent would live here” I said sarcastically. Kim gave a slight chuckle, putting the car in park.

“What did you ever see in that slimball anyway?” I asked.

Kim sighed, “His eyes…” I gave Kim a look, shaking my head.

“What did you ever see in Marshall?” She asked.

I chuckled, “His eyes…” she smiled getting out of the car. By now I have complete trust in Kim.

            I found an old baseball bat in the garbage can beside the building, which I pulled out instantly.  I walked in first with Kim behind me. My heart beat too fast for me to think clearly, my breath was no longer with me. The bat vibrated in my hands. This was something I would never find myself doing. I was becoming my father. My mother would think I have lost my mind.

            After climbing the six flights of stairs we reached Vincent’s floor. The hall was small with doors on each side, one at both ends.

“His is down there…” Kim said pointing to my left. “He shouldn’t be home…” Kim and I walked down the dim hallway to the room. Slowly and surly as she followed me behind, the bat ready in my hand; ready to strike.

            I slowly reached out to push open the slightly opened door, ready to see Vincent sitting around his couch watching TV. To my shock, he wasn’t home, Kim was right. I lowered the bat slightly. Kim walked around me checking every part of the apartment to make sure he wasn’t home.

“We are clear…” she said, giving two thumbs up.

            We began to search for the murder weapon; we believed to be a gun which Kim has mentioned she has seen in his apartment. I couldn’t figure the women out, did anything dawn on her that this guy was bad news? As she searched the outside of the house I search the developing room for my wedding photo. Frightened by the pictures that looked familiar too me that he has written and posted, true and false. Eventually, surrounded by candles, rice and almond bags, I found my wedding photo. I was horrified to find a picture of him glued over Marshall. Luckily, the asshole glued it over the frame and not the picture.

            “Hello Natalia…” a voice said. I gasped turning around, dropping the photo. Vincent stood around my only exit. He was dressed in a black thermo; his hair was now a crew-cut and jeans. My heart beat fast as the thought of my life could possibly end any second now. I backed into the sirne knocking over some stuff as he approached me.

            “You stay away from me Vincent, I mean it!” I said sternly. My hair was now wet from sweating my throat still burning from throwing up.

“I guess you discovered my little secret…” he said.

“Si cazzo…you killed Tina…” I said.

He chuckled slightly, “How did you find that out?”

            “ME!” Kim said, knocking him over with a frying pan. My took a deep breath as I hoped off the table.

“Si…cazzo?” She questioned. I sighed, “You fuck…” quickly grabbing my photo and some of the developing photos; I hoped over Vincent. He suddenly grabbed my ankle, making me fall to the ground. I screamed as I tried to kick him off me. I was free and made it out half way, with Kim still hitting him over the head. He quickly grabbed the frying pan and thrusted her to the ground.

            He grabbed onto my shoulders and twirled me around, holding my arms down as he tried to force himself on me.

“You little Intlian Principessa can’t do anything now!” He growled in my ear. “Not even your husband…” thinking it was the end, my life flash before my eyes. Thoughts of my father came into play, as I remembered a day I came home with a problem involving Vincent. My father did not bother to call the school, but he showed me a trick. I was only fifteen, growing into myself and my body.

            “Nobody can save you now!” He growled again. I suddenly felt myself black out,

“No…” I shouted, kneeing him in the groan hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

“But my father can!” I said, hoping off the counter, grabbing the baseball bat from the closet and beating him. The man has made my life a living hell, including Marshall’s. Screaming on top of my lungs of all the people I was taking revenge for.

“This is for Lorena…”

“For my husband…”

“For my children…”

“For Kim…”

“Tina…” “And this is for ME!” I said striking him.

            I dropped the bloody bat to the floor and fell to the ground. Feeling exhausted and almost beaten, I couldn’t move and I couldn’t think straight. I just knew what I did, will not be takened lightly. I didn’t care I did what any mother and wife would do. Vincent laid on his stomach, his eyes squinted slightly at me, ready to shut at any moment. He groaned as if he had something to say.

“I love you…” he muttered. I chuckled, figuring out how he could be alive. “I don’t…” I muttered back. His eyes closed and his last breath escaped his lungs.

            My body ache terribly. My chest felt crushed and it was hard for me to breath. Thinking I was in my final moment, I began to pray to myself, hoping just hoping God will give me the second chance to live. My jaw was killing me, as if someone bashed it in. My eyes began to close and I heard echoes. I saw blurred vision that I thought were angels. At the moment, I hoped one of them would be my dad. Reaching my hand out, feeling now, nothing was hurting me, nothing at all, I said

“Dad…”

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A little author's note, we all know what rice is used for in a wedding, in Sicily (and in many other cultures) it is a tradition for the bride and groom to pass out 5 vanillia almonds in a white, silk purse. It is a symbol of gradittude and thanks almost like a party favor. In this case, in an Italian wedding the five almonds signifies five wishes towards the bride and groom. Health, wealth, happiness, fertility and longevity. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)