Eminem Imagines

High School Graduation *Final Imagine*

//Let me just say that this book has become one of my second most popular and it truly could not have been done without the support of Essie, Zoe, Kita, vatsofacid , stantrash and Taylor. Y'all are purely amazing individuals. And this chapter's going to be special and different so I hope y'all like it. It's low key a tear jerker, so be prepared. One, two y'all: I'm about to rock ya. You've stepped in the realms of juniormafiaa\\

*2031*

"Mom, let's go, I'm almost ready!" Your fourth daughter calls down to your wife from upstairs. You're sitting and reading the paper, reading news that Donald Trump had died under the bay style window sunlight. It rocked the nation and you couldn't care less. You didn't like the racist twat anyways.

"Okay, okay, Aimee. Marshall, you ready?" Your beautiful wife turns to you. Her face has aged nicely, only slight wrinkles despite being sixty. Her gray hair is tied loosely into a bun and she wears a stylish black dress. Even though she is old, she doesn't not dress like it.

"Yes." You say, getting up from your chair. Your wrinkly and worn hands remind you of all the rhymes you used to write and all the things you have done. It seems like soft ending to such a hard story.

You walk over to the spiral wooden balcony on the thirty year old home and watch as your daughter, Aimee Danica Mathers, practically waltzes down the stairs. There's a small sense of pride in your heart as she comes down. The light sounds of Junior M.A.F.I.A. is in the background, continuing the family's love of hip hop.

She ended up having your crystal blue eyes, that even with age still remained intact on your face, your pointed nose, her lips, her forehead, her skin color, your forehead and you teeth. Her body was concealed in a yellow, long sleeved dress to dress for the windy and chilly spring weather. She had her mother's body, large breasts, skinny legs and your hair color, which was flowing down her back in artfully curled tresses. Your wife holds up an ancient Kodak, snapping a photograph with it. She insisted on having physical copies of everything.

"Oh, Aimee. You're so beautiful." Your wife says, on the brink of tears. She looks shy, but you appreciate her nature. She was calming and introverted like you were.

"Thanks." She says, coming down the last stair. Then, the door was knocked on. You, knew it was Hailie since she had texted Aimee she had been on her way to the house.

You pulled it open to find Hailie and her husband standing outside with Whitney and her boyfriend. Hailie was thirty five now, hair now cut in a middle age golden bob. She had a bigger, chilling presence about her now since becoming a child psychiatrist. She could solve any problems. Your granddaughters, ten year old Jaycee and eight year old Marina, rush up to you in braced smiles. They are the perfect combination of Hailie and her boyfriend Max, who gave you dap as he saw you.

Whitney, on the other hand, was confused a lot by you as being Kim, their resemblances so close it trips you out at times. She stands with her biracial boyfriend, Kaiden. It suddenly hits you how old she is; twenty-nine. She had a job as a nurse in a huge hospital and was on her way to having self earned financial freedom. It almost brought tears to your eyes.

"Where's Lannie?" Your wife queries after some photographs with the full family.

"She's run into some problems at the office." Whitney answers, referring to Lannie's accountant job in nearby Chicago. You nod and all exit the house after all the music was turned off, food eaten, kids kissed and compliments exchanged. It was 11:15 and the ceremony started at 11:45, impeccable timing.

But before everyone leaves the house, you linger in the living room, a soft dandelion colored light from the tightly shut blinds seeping in into the hardwood floor. Atop the mantle sat a small, marble colored box filled with ashes. You gingerly touch it, giving away your manhood for a passed friend. The air was still and warm on your neck.

You thought that DeShaun's death would have been the worst to hit, but Dre would have to come in at a close second.

Dre succumbed to a mysterious illness in 2026, coming in the midst of the D-12 reunion tour. It took nearly two years to get over. Without your mentor, your rock, your best friend by your side, it became hard to function and you nearly broke your recovery streak.

You stopped making music all together afterwards, only working on collaborations with newer artists as a way of passing the torch. Besides, you had four daughters and a beautiful wife to come home to. But the rap game for you was over after an astonishing thirty years.

You lift the box carefully and hold it in your hands to carry Dre with you wherever you ventured. He would have attended the ceremony if he had lived to see it. It almost made you cry seeing your close companion in a box but you kept at it. You left the house in high spirits despite the painful reminder of your best friends passing.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Aimee D. Mathers!" The dean called out as Aimee glided across stage. Her colorless graduation gown flowed behind her without a trace of being nervous, her heels clinking against the wooden stage. The deafening applause was a bit much for you and your wife's ears but you welcomed it.

Behind you sat 50 Cent, who now had gray hair, droopy tattoos but still good skin for his age, Ryan, whom still managed to look intact, D-12, who even as elderly men still were as jokey and vulgar as usual, DeShaun's family, who looked as beautiful and well put together as ever and your own family.

As your wife takes your hand and holds it tightly, Dre in the next hard plastic seat over, you realize something.

Your job is over. You had reached the end of your rope.

You always believed you would die out in a spontaneous combustion of drugs, hookers and deadly rhymes and end up smoking fat blunts with Tupac and Biggie. But you stuck it out and experienced the miracle of fathering. You were now going to die in peace, having no little girls to leave behind. Everyone was fine and well cared for, everything you wanted.

It took 58 years to achieve these goals. The thought burns a fiery hole in your heart. At first it feels a little strange but it warms every part of your body as you suddenly look at your wife. Her smile has vanished and it fades in out of black. Everything is becoming very blurry as you see light.

You breathe in once as you realize everyone's surrounding you.

You never breathe out....