Call Him Slim Shady | Eminem

16

A.N. Warning for discussion of drowning. This chapter involves severe questioning of the Christian and any other religious faith. I have nothing against religion whatsoever, but its logistics are questioned. Anyways, thank -the government- for free speech!

"So do you have a favorite book?" I turn to her, blowing the smoke out of my mouth as I wrap my arm around her. I love watching the look of jealousy on every other woman's face at these parties when they see me all over Tomie. You would assume that someone like Eminem would have someone who's more conventionally attractive.

My type with women has always been blonde, tall, and tan, yet Tomie intercedes that form. She's incredibly pale and semi-average in height, her jet black hair with bangs  that taint her eyes in the perfect amount of darkness.  She's got those perfect curves that I love, making me mentally groan at the idea of gripping at them when I fuck her.

"Any work by Friedrich Nietzsche or Osamu Dazai... I like philosophy primarily..." She yells over the music. I nod in response as I watch a groupie glaring at us from the bar.

"every girl here wishes they were you" I whisper in her ear with a grin, making her raise her eyebrow at me.

"Mhm..." she acknowledges with a hum, seemingly not caring too much about this information, but to be fair, I didn't expect her to. I wish I could see in her mind, I would love to understand why she thinks the way she does...

"Random question... what made you become a nihilist?" I ask her, tapping off the ashes from my blunt in the small ashtray.

Tomie's Perspective - Eighteen Years Before

"God just always was, he's an eternal being," my mother tells me, washing the cucumbers at the sink as I sit there eating animal crackers. I'm six years old, but dang, I'm not stupid.

Always was? That doesn't make any sense, that's scientifically impossible. How dumb is my mother?

"But that's not possible" I grumble back before shoving a cracker in my mouth, giving my fingers something to do as she answers.

"It absolutely is possible, come on Tomie, you need to have some faith in Christ..." she tries to convince me, but she forgot I'm my father's daughter.

I don't know how such a pessimistic cynic and a faithful Christian ended up together, and I don't see how they stand each other. They must just not talk to each other about their belief or lack thereof, but I find that very hard to believe.

-Eight Years Forward-

"Let's pay our respects to the wonderful life we've lost today... Amber was so full of life, and everyone around her felt lifted by her presence..." Some God there is, staring down at this moment right now, thinking it was a good idea...

Fourteen and already at the only funeral that has ever meant anything to me. Old people die, that happens, rest in peace, but at least you can celebrate a full life lived. Imagine dying at fourteen? Imagine not graduating high school even though it was your dream to go to the Air Force Academy. Imagine dying the slowest way possible when it came to death by drowning. They thought they could save her, but she slowly withered away in the hospital since her lungs couldn't handle the water in them. She died six hours after they found her, yet the hospital led people on for two fucking weeks, keeping people in the hopes she was pulling through well. I wanted to visit her when she woke up, I wanted to give her 'The Setting Sun' since we always shared the same love of old literature.

Some fucking god we have... fuck this place, bringing people together in the name of Christ. She wasn't even a fucking Christian, but that doesn't matter, when you die, you can become a poster child for whatever the fuck people want to make up. Like when someone commits suicide and then suddenly everyone and their grandparents pretend to have known the person. It's all bullshit, why are people like this?

'God is dead. God remains dead, and we have killed him' - Friedrich Nietzsche

I don't really have morals, and the concept of pretending to care about things I don't is exhausting. I do not believe in God, there is nothing to him but belief and faith... what is this, Peter Pan? This is all so dumb...

Marshall's Perspective - Present

"I had a lot of shit happen that made me realize believing in a stupid fantasy old fucks made up was useless" She strictly speaks with a seemingly choked voice. She doesn't look me in the eyes, yet she grabs her martini and swiftly downs the entirety of its contents. Any other girl and I wouldn't care, but for her, this was shocking.

"Yo, Tomie, you good?" I mumble, watching her jaw lock in place with a dissatisfied expression. This is really the only time her entire face has shown emotion, any time she's ever smiled, it never reached her eyes, so her expression hits me hard. It's normal for the average person to express emotion, especially visually, but if someone doesn't, the off chance they do, it's scary.

"I heard drowning is peaceful... do you think that's true?" she suddenly speaks, confusing the fuck out of me.

"ok, that's completely changing the subject but Uhm... I heard that too, I guess so... I believe that it most likely is" I awkwardly answer, tightening my grip around her.

"Believing isn't enough, I need proof" She spits angrily at me, making me raise an eyebrow. She is completely unpredictable and I love it usually, but this is unnerving me.

"The only proof you'd be able to get is if you drowned yourself, which you sure as hell aren't doing under my watch. It's like what happens after death, we only know when we experience it and even if we know, we can't tell anyone" I explain, feeling weird this is the one time I'm telling her how things work, which is a shock.

"I know what happens after death Marshall, deep down everyone does, but people would rather live their illusions of what they think it is. Besides, people have cheated drowning many times before and they've talked about it..." she corrects me, making me blush in subtle embarrassment. But how could she possibly know? She's confident as fuck, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"What happens after death then?" I promptly ask her before taking another puff from my blunt.

"Nothing, it's a complete end of existence, it's like that waiting area your brain is in when it's between falling asleep and when it's dreaming. There's nothing there, your very being is unconscious," she tells me, looking me dead in the eyes with no discernable emotion on her face at this point.

I don't know why but I can't argue with her, I'm scared of death, but I don't have any pinpointed idea of what happens after it or where my 'soul' goes. Who am I to tell her she's wrong? She's insanely intelligent, along with being a fucking physician. She has a much better grip on reality than I do, so part of me believes that she's correct.

"Sounds reasonable..." I mumble back, sinking back into my seat despite how uncomfortable I feel at this moment physically. We go silent, listening to 'Get Money' by Biggie blast as most of his music does in every club we're at. His music is iconic, especially in clubbing and rap culture so, of course, it's going to play.

"Let's leave and go to the fucking Taco Bell or some shit, I'm tired of doing this every night" she finally says, standing up and allowing my arm to drop from her. I'm quick to follow her lead like a lost puppy. She's confident, and not the type of confidence that's outward and cocky, not the type of 'confident' that I am. She's genuinely confident in every move she makes and she doesn't have to prove shit to anyone.