Michael's Cold

Chapter 1

It was a cold winter day on January 18, 1970 when I was walking home with Marlon. My nose was running from the cold frigid air and I really needed a tissue.
"Marlon, do you have a tissue?"
"No, ask Tito."
Tito was up ahead of us, with Jackie and Jermaine. I ran up to him and asked him with snot running almost into my mouth. Their noses didn't seem to be running, and I wondered why it was only me. Maybe my nose was just sensitive to the air.
Nobody had a tissue for me, so I wiped it with my hand and when I got home, my nose started running again.
"Choo!" I sneezed, bending over and almost falling forward. I then sniffled loudly and my mother seemed concerned.
"Bless you, are you ok?"
I was about to answer but then a wave of coughs hit me.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Really, because it seems like you have a cold."
"No, it's just the air. Ha-choo!" I loudly sneezed into my arms.
"Maybe you should lay down," my mother said, feeling my forehead and realizing it was warm. I was relieved when she said that because I really wasn't feeling great.
So, I went into the bedroom and trembled into the bed, coughing. My mother started to play with the curls of my afro as a slowly fell asleep.

I was rudely awakened as Joseph came home, excited. "Boys, I got us a great gig tonight! Oh Michael, we need to start rehearsing," he said, looking for me. When he got to my bedroom, he noticed me laying down, half asleep.
"What's the matter with you?" He asked confused.
"He's got a fever," my mom said.
I broke out into a coughing fit.
"Well it seems like he's fine. C'mon Mike, let's get you up and ready."
"Ready for what? He's not going anywhere."
"Well, sure he is. This is a life changing performance. We can't do it without him. He's the star."
"Eh-choo! Choo!" I sneezed, sniffling. I grabbed a tissue and sneezed again. "Choo!"
"God bless you, honey," my mother said, putting a wet wash cloth over my forehead.
Joseph walked away, angrily. I felt sad that I let him down, but also happy because I didn't want to perform.

The next morning, I woke up before anyone else. I think it's because my nose is so stuffy and I couldn't breathe. The house was rarely quiet, and it felt good to be so in control. My father and my brothers were still at the gig, even at 5:00 in the morning. I was so bored and I didn't know what to do. So I made myself some breakfast and ate silently.
"Mike, what are you doing up so early?" My mother asked.
I shrugged as the guys walked through the door. They all gave me a dirty look,
But my father completely ignored me. I felt so bad that they had to suffer because of me. My mother put her hands on my shoulders and gave Joe "the look" that meant, "don't you dare."
"Don't worry, i'll be at the next one."
"There won't be a next one," snapped Jackie. "Everyone hated us."
"Joe, do you have something to say to Michael?" Asked my mother.
Joe looked at me and said, "Get ready for school."