narrative

Paul Coudray L+L4 5/25/12     Mrs Dabrush

It was a rainy, depressing day in Warren, Michigan.  The sky was dark gray, and the air reeked of car gas and other pollutants. Marshall was 15. He looked out his class window and sighed. His teacher didn't even bother with him, he never did any work . It was March, and he already got a letter home informing his parent that he would be attending summer-school. He hated his life. Everything about it was hard. Marshall never knew his father. He had left their family when Marshall was just 6 months old. Marshall lived with his single mother. They lived in small apartments, and sometimes even in trailer homes. They were constantly moving. Usually around the suburbs of Detroit. Marshall's mom usually didn't keep a job for longer than a couple months, so Marshall had to adjust to every new school he went to.

 School was awful, and he was tormented by kids twice his size. D'angelo was probably waiting outside the school to beat him up. D'Angelo was a giant black kid that had been bothering Marshall since the 6th grade. He was by far the biggest kid in the grade, and Marshall was by far the smallest. D'angelo beat Marshall up on the basketball court, in the locker room, and in many different places. Marshall felt sick just thinking about it. Without even asking for permission, he got up and walked out of the classroom. He made his way to the bathroom.

 The place was nasty. His school didn't even have janitors. The stalls were vandalized, toilet paper was everywhere, and coincidentally, D'angelo, the nastiest kid in the grade, was in the bathroom too. Marshall didn't even realize. He had a giant headache that wouldn't go away. Plus, the strong scent of marijuana didn't really help.

 A strong hand grasped his arm. Marshall was startled. “Hey little buddy”, D'angelo whispered. Marshall didn't reply. Before he knew it, D'angelo grabbed his head and slammed it into the urinal. Blood gushed from his forehead. Marshall fell to the ground. Without any mercy, D'angelo kicked him in the ribcage, and left. Marshall couldn't breathe, he lay there motionless, his blood drenching his own shirt. He finally took a breath. He coughed up more blood. With every last bit of strength in his body, he stood up. He limped all the way to the front door of Lincoln High, and struggled home.

 “What the hell happened to you?!” Marshall's mom exclaimed. “Who did it this time?!” Marshall didn't answer. He wasn't in the mood to talk and his swollen lip didn't really help.

Marshall's mom knew who did it. Marshall had been a victim of D'angelo's tormenting since Marshall was 9. There had been an incident where D'angelo had beat Marshall up so hard that he had nausea and abnormal sleepiness. Marshall dragged his feet to the fridge. He grabbed an icepack and put it on his mouth. He walked to his room and fell into his bed. He grabbed his CD player and turned it on. He listened to one of his favorite rappers, “Ice-T.”

 Eminem loved the way Ice-T rapped. Eminem loved the lyrics and how well they went together. His uncle had bought him the CD last christmas and ever since, he could never stop listening to it. He has memorized nearly every word of the 25 songs in the album. He couldn't get enough.

 Marshall hated to read literature. The only thing he ever read was a dictionary. It seems like a weird thing to read, when literature doesn't interest you, but he did it to expand his vocabulary. Marshall would occasionally participate in rap battles, behind his school building. It was free-style, so you made up a rhyme on the spot. Marshall believed that the more words he had to rhyme, he would be able to take the upper-hand against his opponent.

Marshall slowly ate his pancakes. They didn't taste great and they were just plain, no maple syrup or anything. He finished up and gobbled them down with a gulp of milk, then walked out the door. “See ya Mom, Im leaving!”

“Have a nice day Marshall!” she yelled back.

 Marshall was in no rush to go to school. He was pretty sure he was going to get a detention for not doing any homework, sit all alone at lunch, and undoubtedly get beat up by D'Angelo. He kept walking, imagining what hell he might have to go through today when he bumped into someone. He looked down and was quite surprised by what he saw.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;">It was that girl. The one from science. He helped her up.

“<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;">Sorry about that” Marshall murmured.

“<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;">It's fine,” She replied “Marshall right?”

“<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;">Yeah, that's me,” he said.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> There was an awkward pause. Then she walked away without another word. Her name was Karen he thought, or something that started with a “K.” “Katie, Kami, Kaila, ummmm...” he thought hard for a minute. “Kim”, that was it! Her name was Kim. She was his lab partner in science.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> As he finished his walk to school he thought about her. She had a pretty face, long blonde hair and large blue eyes. He liked her. She was someone he's like to get to know better.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> He arrived at the school building. The kids had already all gone inside, Marshall, as usual, was late. Marshall wasn't even sure what class to go to. So instead, he just zoned out, and should there looking at the hideous building.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> Marshall opened his book bag. There was his history binder, the same one he had used for 3 years. It was in rather good condition though, because of the fact that he rarely touched it. Blank white pieces of lined paper were in.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> Marshall couldn't resist, he found a pen on the floor and started to scribble words on a bench outside the building. Once Marshall started righting, there was no stopping him. He wrote until the last bell rang and everyone flooded out of the school. Marshall had completely lost track of time and spent nearly 7 hours writing a masterpiece rhyme.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;">_________________________________________________________________________

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> And that's the moment when Marshall's life changed. Marshall began writing longer raps and started entering himself into competitions. He repeated the 9th grade several times before dropping out. It was useless, he never learned a thing.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> He entered the rap Olympics later, and made his way to second place. He failed to get the cash reward of $5,000 that he desperately needed, but gave himself the recognition of a world famous rapper, Dr Dre. He sold albums and became locally known. The album was called the “Shady Records” and it slowly became more popular. High schoolers went to go see him rap, and he earned the respect of many hip-hop artists. His stage name became Eminem, with the 2nd “e” backwards, because M and M were his initials.

<span style="font-family: Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro W6,sans-serif;"> Marshall made and effort and hung out with Kim. They became friends and later dated. School never worked out and his mother was never able to make better money but Marshall liked his life. Until 17, his life was torture, but suddenly, there was a stream of light flooding in from the end of the tunnel.