Michael Jackson Imagines

He's Suicidal

Michael has been going through a lot with the press and he's been really down, and hasn't been himself lately.

"Hey, honey are you sure you're okay?" I ask, as were getting ready for the party.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He asks, fixing his tie and putting on his blazer.

"Oh, I don't know then." I say, acting as if I don't know why something would be bothering him, even though I know the press is bothering him, so I just let it be.

"You look beautiful, by the way." He adds, before grabbing his keys and walking out the door with me on his side, to the limo.

"Thank you." I say, giving him a slight smile before, giving him a peck on the lips.

We get into the limo and we are driven to the lavish party.

I hold his hand tightly, but feel a sense of uneasiness because of the press hounding, Michael, and how he won't tell me, he's not alright.

About an hour has passed and Michael and I have gone our separate ways, talking to friends and relatives.

After about 2 hours, I completely lost Michael, and as I start to ask people, they can't seem to tell me where he is either.

"Hey Katherine, have you seen Michael?"

"Last time I saw him sweetheart, he was going upstairs."

"Ok, thank you." I say, giving her a sweet smile

I walk up the marble staircase, up until I reached the roof, since I didn't see Michael on any other floor.

I open the door, and see Michael standing on the edge of the building, drinking a bottle of whiskey.

I calmly walk up to him, "Michael? What are you doing?" I ask, trying to get him down.

"Please come down." I say.

"Nobody's around anymore, I'm all alone." He says, dropping the bottle off the roof, nearly falling down himself.

I gasp, "Please Michael, you have me. Please you can't leave me." I say, holding out my arm for him.

"But there is nothing here for me anymore."

"Please, just remember that what you do to yourself, you do to me, and it's hurting me. Please don't do it, just take my hand." I say, still holding my hand out.

He finally takes my hand, and climbs off the edge of the roof.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, as he buries his head into my neck.

"It's fine." I say, holding him tight, fearing I might lose him again.