Breathe: A Michael Jackson Story

Chapter 11

My eyes are puffy and my heart is empty.

How can Michael be gone? I was so stubborn, I should have talked to him when I had the chance.

But now it's too late.

Mrs. Katherine said that they may be in California for months, maybe until the summer. But, Michael won't be back, just his brothers. Michael's going to start on his solo career after the Jacksons are finished.

I've lost Michael forever.

Well, it's been about two weeks since I've been home, and now my cast is finally off. I just have to take it easy on my leg. My dad put a ladder and a swing on the tree for if I ever feel like sitting on or by the tree.

But, all I want to do is climb. I want to climb up to my can and bird-call for Michael until he answers back. 

It's just not fair! Why did he have to leave so early?!

I've been reading his notes and laughing at our old conversations. He makes me so happy. I just don't know what I'll do without him now.

Now, all I do is sit inside the house and read. I read books from Michael's library, which Mrs. Katherine has been so gracious enough to let me borrow from his house.

"Dad! Can you PLEASE get a mango from the tree for me? I haven't had one since the day before the accident!", I said in a sugary-sweet voice.

He smiled at me. "I guess you can have one sweetie."

I watched him as he climbed up the ladder until I could only see his feet. All he has to do is reach up and grab one now.

But, he starts for climb higher, until the ladder starts to wobble, and then he climbs back down with a basket.

"What are those?", I asked, pointing to the basket.

"Paper folded into animals. They all have dates on them."

I quickly took them up to my room and laid them out on my bed. Sure enough, all of them had dates on them...one for every day. I quickly found one that had the date from the day of the accident to "whatever day I find this basket". I opened it and started to read.

Soraya, I know that when you find these, you may still be angry with me. But, before you get angry again and throw these away, PLEASE read it first!

You've always asked me what I've been writing in my journal, and I've always been very secretive. But, to be completely honest, almost everything I've written in my journal is about you.

Soraya, I like you. A lot, actually. I've liked you ever since the first day we walked to school together...the day we became friends.

I know what you're thinking, "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?!?". Well, I couldn't, because I didn't want to break your heart. I have been wanting to tell you for a while now, and I'd almost done it a couple of times. But, Joseph always kept me from doing so. He told me that I would be leaving soon, and that I shouldn't be getting attached to you anytime soon. He said, "If you're just using her to sew your oats then you'd better do it soon!". He spoke of you as if you were only an object or animal. I would get angry with him, and then he would threaten me. I didn't want you to have to feel the wrath of Joseph, as I sometimes have to. I just hope that he hasn't spoken to you at all.

Well, each of these notes have dates on them for everyday that I may possibly be away. You have enough notes to last well into the summer, maybe even next school year. They are all folded into different types of animals.

I've always wanted to tell you this...the reason I fold my notes into flowers and animals is because I dream of owning a place where animals can roam almost completely free and I can have my own forest-like atmosphere, if not a real one. And, I dream of you being there with me, Soraya.

Please don't give up on me Soraya, because even though I may be miles away from you, I left my heart with you.

It's a necklace in the bottom of the basket...a necklace with a black gemstone. I want you to wear it everyday until I come back for you, Soraya. Let it remind you of the night we first started to communicate with the cans.

I hope that one day, those cans can be used again.

I leave you with love and hope for a bright future.

Yours truly, Michael