'Cause Everytime We Touch {A Michael Jackson fanfiction}

Prologue

This story happens to contain things  

that have actually happened in my  

life 

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*3:08am 

I sat by my window looking at the moon. I've been having trouble sleeping ever since Michael Jackson died. Yeah, yeah. I know what you're going to say. "you never even knew him." or "he's way too old for you anyway." Well guess what? I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! This man has been here for me through his music. Every time I'm down his songs make me happy.  

I sigh as I notice the TV playing gospel music. Church. I haven't been there in a while. Too many judgmental folk. I flip the channel to something more appealing. Soul Train is on and it brings back so many memories. The first episode I saw was with the Jackson 5 performing. I sat up in bed as the show proceeded to play. When it ended I started to doze off once more: 

"hello? is anyone here?" I yell while I walk towards a room with a red light illuminating from it. I look inside to see Michael Jackson sitting on a bed with a bunch of his bodyguards. They look my way and I apologize to them for sneaking and explain how I was just lost. Michael stands up and grabs my arm leading me through all these crazy places. He's running trying to find the outside. "Michael? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" We finally make it outside and he drops my hand and runs. I yank his arm and try to tell him to stay with me but something dark comes from the woods and tries to take him. Michael yells at me, telling me to let him go and that he's almost out of time. I told him that he is young. His skin tone is brown and he looks the same as in the thriller era. He can't be out of time. He refuses to believe me and before the thing in the woods take him completely he hugs me and tells me he loves me.

*Ding,Dong* 

I wake up from my dream in a cold sweat. Somebody was ringing the doorbell. I put on my robe and went to open the door. Sun rays are filling my house and when I open the door, my sister, August, arrives. She looks at me like I'm crazy. "What?" I ask. 

"Whataya mean what? Girl, Why ain't you dressed?" I rolled my eyes at my sister's proper, yet country accent and said,  

"August, I ain't goin to church." she crossed her arms and pushed her way in my house. My sister was 15 and I was 13 when we left Georgia to explore the land of Cali. My brother (before he died) had originally taken us here. We came from a broken home, but we tried not to let it control us. Oh, have I introduced yet? Well, my name is July (jU-lie). It's pronounced like the month only just you hold the 'U' a little longer. I am 18 and my sister is 20. We used to live together but she moved out to be with her boyfriend, Douglas. I never liked that boy, but if he made her happy, then so be it. 

"July! Come here!" August yelled from my room. I went back upstairs and she had taken out a poka dotted pink and yellow dress. This was something I loved about easter. The dresses, reunions, religion, and seeing children have a good time. Too bad I dislike the people inside my church. As I put on the dress and my flats I began to miss Georgia. I miss smelling the country dirt and pecan pie. I miss the children messin with the animals and tryin to get close to the swamps. But most of all, I miss family.