Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston

She's Dead

Whitney POV

I sighed as I heard the shower water running. Another day of silencio. My baby was on Michael's bed, ripping up paper. I didn't know what it was so I paid no attention to it. She sas quiet so I let her be.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered. In the shower, Michael hit the high note to One Moment of Time.

"Michael?" A weak voice said.

I turned on my Michael voice. "Yes?"

"It's Jean. Listen, can you come to the hospital now? I'll understand if Whitney isnt O.K. with it."

My heart burned hatefully for a second. Against my better judgement, I said yes and hung up. Michael was just getting out the shower and frowned as he saw me hurridly putting on some socks and shoes.

"Where's the fire?" He mummbled.

"I'm going to the hospital smart ass. A friend needs me." I snapped back.

"Who?"

"See ya in a bit." I gave him a fake smiled.

-

I stood outside the door of a woman who is making my life fall apart. I heard coughing and weezing. Jeez, she must be sick to be coughing like that. I didn't even wanna go in but I wanted answers and I was gonna get em.

"Whitney." She gasped when I walked in.

I closed the door and gave a half smile. Her hair was a mess, her eyes and face puffy, her breathing broken. She looked f*cking horrible. I pulled a blue chair up to her bed and sat down.

"Is he really Michael's?" I asked.

She coughed. "I know what you think of me. A whore, someone that slept with ya man and is selfish and a liar and a cheater, right?"

"You are absouloutly f*cking right." I nodded.

"But I'm not. I know that because I'm the ex and your the wife, there's gonna be some tension. Espcially now cause of what happened between me and Michael. I adored Michael, fully. He was everything any girl would want. And yes, I slept with three other men when I was with Michael. I cheated. But I know that Michael is the father to my son. If you ever get a chance, look at Brandon and then Michael, they look exactly alike. No doubt that's Michael's son. You think I slept with Michael just out of anger and to destroy your marriage. That's half of the reason. But I only wanted to get back in contact with Michael before all this happened. I want my son to have a father. I never knew my Daddy. I tried searching for him but it never worked. Brandon doesn't deserve that. And when I saw Michael with Jasmine one day while we were arguing in his office, Whitney, I couldn't believe how much love he showed for her. It was unfair how she gets to have a Daddy but not Brandon. I have breast cancer. I'm dying. I just want Brandon to be in the right hands." Her voice got weaker and she handed me a note. "I wrote this earlier and hoped to mail it to him but I decided to call. Give this to Michael. You can read it if you want. It's only what I just told you."

I wiped tears from my eyes. Why am I crying over her? I despise this bitch. No I don't. I don't hate her or Tatiana or Diana or Brookle or any of them. That's just jealousy.

I got up when I saw Jean's eyes droop. A women that I once saw, slim and sexy wifh a nice face and body was now limp on this hospital bed, dying. I hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry, for everything. Just make sure Brandon, is OK." She whispsred.

I nodded and after a kiss on the cheek from Jean, the beepers went off and Jean died. Nurses came rushing in and ignored me. I sat and watched as they tried to revive the still body but nothing happened. I guess a nurse saw how hysterical I was becoming because she rubbed my back and ushered me out the room.

I only caught one small glimpse of Jean before the door closed after me.

-Hello my daar Pedestrians .😔🚸

-My therapsit said that every time she heard the word Pedestrian🚸, she thinks💭 of me😄 because I always say it . 👄

-I'm a boss bitch . ✨

-Jean had to go👋✌ . Bum bitch needed to bounce ✋. Fake R.I.P thug . 🙏😳😉

-ChunkyMonkey🙊