Circa' 1987-1989
"....She was short with full hips and small waist with smooth Carmel skin and perfect c-cup breast. Who was I kidding this girl was head turner...."
Michael Jackson about to start his BAD World Tour and a special girl has popped in...
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Chapter 36: "Desperation In Turmoil"
Michael Perspective
March 3, 1988
9:55 PM
The Mount Sinai Hospital
New York, New York
As the monitors flatlined, panic gripped my heart. The urgency in the ambulance escalated as the medics worked frantically to revive Amahle. The world seemed to narrow down to the haunting sound of those flatlining beeps.
"No, no, Amahle, please!" I pleaded, my voice trembling with desperation. The medics continued their life-saving efforts, their movements swift and determined. The sirens wailed in the background, mirroring the turmoil inside me.
Amahle lay motionless, and I felt a surge of helplessness wash over me. The reality of the situation crashed down, and a suffocating fear gripped my chest. The ambulance sped through the city streets, racing against time as if it could reverse the irreversible.
The medics exchanged tense glances, and one of them turned to me, his expression grave. "We're doing everything we can, Mr. Jackson. Please, try to stay calm," he said, his words a thin shield against the looming despair.
Stay calm? How could I stay calm when the love of my life, the woman I planned my future with, lay on the brink of life and death? My hands clenched into fists, and my gaze remained fixed on Amahle's lifeless form.
The ambulance screeched to a halt outside the emergency room, and a team of medical personnel awaited us. They swiftly transferred Amahle onto a gurney, their movements synchronized like a desperate dance against time. I followed, my steps heavy and unsteady.
In the chaotic whirlwind of the emergency room, I felt like a mere spectator to the unfolding tragedy. The beeping of machines, the urgent commands of medical professionals, and the distant sounds of alarms created a disorienting symphony of despair.
A doctor approached me, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Jackson, we're doing everything we can for her. Please wait here," she said, guiding me to a cold, sterile waiting room. The harsh fluorescent lights seemed to mock the anguish etched on my face.
I sank into a chair, my mind a tumultuous sea of fear, regret, and desperation. "Mr. Jackson" I heard the nurse call me from the nursing station, I walked up on the brink of emotions "Phone" she simply passed me the corded phone. "Mike! Is the floor clear, I'm still at the stadium, Bill, Chuck, and Julius are on the way now. I heard paparazzi have the hospital surrounded already" Frank said bringing me to reality.
"Has this floor been cleared ?" I asked the nurse somberly, "Of course Mr. Jackson we made the accommodation as soon as we received the call" she said with a smile. I took a deep breath, gripping the phone tightly. "Thank you," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "Accommodations have been made, Can you schedule a flight for Amahle's mother and sister to get here as soon as possible" I asked Frank dreading to have to make the call to her mother.
