Saving Michael Jackson

New home

"Did you just call me Mom?" she asked, staring at me like I had completely lost my mind.

"Look... please. Just listen to me." I stepped closer, and I could already see panic slowly creeping into her expression.

"I'm alone," I whispered shakily. "I'm all alone. And when I say alone, I really mean it. I have nobody. Not on this earth, not in this universe, not in whatever this even is."

She immediately tried to step away from me.
"Okay, I'm getting Antonio."

Before she could leave, I grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "I feel like a complete stranger," I said desperately, tears beginning to blur my vision. "Like someone who's been ripped away from everything she knows and thrown somewhere she doesn't belong. And I hate this feeling. I want—" My voice broke. "I'm sorry, Mom." Tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably now.
"I'm so sorry. I just want to hug you and tell you I love you and that I miss you, but I can't because you don't even know who I am."

Her eyes softened with pity, becoming glossy with tears too.
"I'm really sorry that you and your mother have some kind of past," she said quietly, "but I don't know you."

"Maybe you do," I whispered desperately, grabbing her hand. "Please remember."

She stared at me silently.

"I'm Ally," I continued through sobs. "Your little girl. I'm the one who ruined your painting with red paint because I thought I was an artist too, just like you. I'm the one who helped you leave that toxic relationship. But I'm also the one who left you alone because you couldn't understand me anymore." I broke down crying harder."But most importantly... I'm the person who loves you more than anyone else in this world."

I looked into her eyes helplessly. "Please remember me."

She slowly shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"You need help," she whispered sadly. "But not mine. You have to leave."

Michael's p.o.v

I sat patiently in the car, waiting for Cindy to come back outside. I was happy for her. Truly happy. But at the same time, I couldn't stop worrying. We still knew nothing about the kidnapper, and I didn't understand why she seemed so terrified of remembering the truth.
Of course, I hadn't just ignored it. I had hired someone privately to investigate the man she talked about, but so far I hadn't heard anything back.

The car door suddenly opened, and Wanda climbed inside with a loud sigh.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately. "Are they talking?"

"Wha—who—yeah. Yeah, they're talking," she answered quickly, rubbing her nose while avoiding eye contact.

My eyebrows furrowed slightly. Something about her behavior felt suspicious.

"Talking?" I repeated. "Well... what did her mother say when she saw her? Didn't she hug her or anything?"

"God, Mike," Wanda groaned dramatically. "Obviously she was surprised. What would you do if your kids went missing and suddenly came back home safe?"

Your kids. Your children. Just hearing those words filled me with warmth. I wanted children so badly someday. A family of my own. It was one of the things I desired most in life. I looked back toward the front door, waiting to see Cindy walk out smiling.

"Hey," Wanda suddenly said, glancing toward me. "How did you say you met Cindy again?"

"In Germany," I replied. "At my concert in Berlin."

"So you just befriended a fan from your concert?"

I laughed softly.
"Not exactly. Honestly, I still don't think she's a fan of mine." I smiled to myself. "I guess she was just lost... and I happened to find her and help her. Consider me her saving prince or something."