🧩🌈 Michael Jackson and the girl who has Autism 🧩🌈

Chapter Three

It seemed to me that the doctors and nurses gave Michael Jackson permission to be my caretaker, even thought I was legally capable of taking care of myself.

I still had my memories of being able to do basic things like getting dressed and undressed everyday, cleaning myself when I need to, and keeping my hair combed so it would look nice and neat.

I knew that I was fan of Michael Jackson, and he had three children of his own.

There was Paris, his daughter.

Prince, his first-born son.

And the youngest was Blanket.

Michael was a good father to his kids.

I never knew why his children always wore masks when they're out in public, but after a few days, I was able to figure out the answer.

The children wore masks in public because Michael wants to protect their identity.

Because the media have been getting more more curious about who I was, I had to wear a mask every time we went outside of Neverland, just like Paris and Prince.

Blanket was still a baby, so Michael put a green blanket over the infant's face.

One day, I was listening to what Michael was saying as he talked on the phone.

He caught me watching him and whispered to tell me to go play outside.

So, that's exactly what I did.

I found myself wandering around the area where the Train Station was located.

It was quiet here without the familiar laughter of the sick children that Michael would invite to come over for a day of fun.

I could hear the birds chirping in the trees.

Soon, I came to the Merry-Go-Round and no one was there except me.

I was just about to climb onto one of the rides when all of a sudden, I heard what sounded like a sirens.

The security guards had been looking for me, as it had been a while since Michael last saw me.

When one of them found me, he grabbed me by the arm and I panicked when he did that.

"Stop! Let go of me"!

I shouted, and the security guard let go of my arm.

"I'm sorry about that, young lady. But Michael is worried about you and we've been looking for you everywhere".

He told me.

"I'm not a little kid like Paris and Prince are. I'm a 23 year old woman".

I replied back.

"Yes, that's exactly what Michael told me when you first got here".

The security guard said, as if he was talking to a child.

I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

After the security guard led me back to the house, Michael was waiting for me.

He didn't look too happy.

But I guess Michael is used to raising younger children, like his own.

"When I told you to go out and play, I didn't mean go all the way to the Merry-Go-Round".

He told me.

"Well, I didn't know that. Since apparently you think I'm still a child".

I answered, not in a sassy way of course.

Michael then remembered that I was literal about everything.

"I know you're not a child anymore. But it's my job to keep you safe".

He spoke to me more like I was a teenager.

I wasn't expecting him to say something like that.

"You're not even my biological parent! Are you on crack or something"?

Michael was surprised when I said that to him.

"Excuse me, young lady, but that is not a very nice thing to say to an adult".

He gave me a disappointed look.

"Well, you're not".

I argued back.

Something about Michael's facial expression told me that he was starting to consider me like a daughter to him, even though I wasn't his child.