Saving Michael Jackson

Snow dance

I rested my head against the cold car window and watched the city lights blur past me in streaks of gold, red, and white. Buildings towered over the streets like silent giants while cars rushed by endlessly beneath the dark Los Angeles sky.
But my mind was somewhere else completely.
Back inside that house.
Back with Carl.
Back to the knife pressed against Michael's throat.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to force the memories away, but they clung to me like shadows. The gunshots. The screaming. The look in Carl's eyes. Pure evil. And all I could think about was how close Michael had come to dying tonight. How close I had come to losing him. A shiver ran through me despite the warmth inside the car. I was so tired of being afraid. Tired of constantly wondering if every moment with him would be the last. Tired of carrying the knowledge of June 25th around like a curse chained to my chest. Even thinking about the date made my stomach twist painfully. I was terrified of it.

The car finally stopped in front of Neverland's gates. I stepped out slowly, numb from exhaustion, and started walking toward the entrance.

"Cindy."
Michael's voice stopped me instantly and i turned around.

Wanda stood beside the car with her hands shoved awkwardly into her pockets, her eyes fixed on the ground. For once, she didn't look tough or mysterious. She just looked guilty.

"I get it if you guys are angry and want to get rid of me right now," she said softly. "But I just want to say I'm sorry for putting you through all this. I really was trying to help."

"You don't need to apologize," Michael answered gently before I could speak. "What matters now is that we're alive and safe."

"I'm not mad," I admitted with a small frown, nodding slowly. "I'm just scared." My voice shook slightly. "The look on Carl's face... it was horrifying. If the police hadn't come—if you hadn't been there..." I exhaled shakily. "Not only Michael, but a lot of people would've died tonight."
I looked at her properly and smiled.
"So no, I'm not mad. Thank you."

Her tense shoulders relaxed immediately.

"And I should be thanking you too," Michael added. "If you ever need anything, no matter what it is, you can stay here or call me. I'll have one of my bodyguards give you my number."

Wanda blinked in surprise before smiling warmly.
"Thank you. Take care of yourselves."
Michael nodded before turning toward the mansion, but just before Wanda walked away, she suddenly called out to him.

"Hey, Michael."

He turned back around.

"Don't listen to what people say about you," she said quietly. "Whether it's in real life or in the newspaper." Her eyes softened. "They talk shit about me too. Just remember—that's their story, not yours."

For a moment, Michael simply stared at her. Then a genuine smile spread across his face.
"Thank you."

We entered Neverland together. Funny how life worked sometimes. Today, we had turned a traitor into the person who saved our lives.

The mansion felt unusually peaceful after the nightmare we had just survived. Soft lights glowed warmly through the hall. It almost felt impossible that only hours ago guns had been pointed at us.

I went upstairs to change clothes before throwing myself onto Michael's bed with a tired sigh.
I still couldn't believe he was letting me sleep here while he took another room.
People had judged him for years over sharing his bed with children, but the truth was so different from what the world imagined. Michael treated his bed like it was just another piece of furniture. To him, comfort mattered more than weird assumptions. And honestly? I understood that now.