Fly Away (Michael Jackson)

thirty six

Bonnie's POV

"I can't believe this, Michael! I can't believe you saved me!" I hugged him tightly as we drove back home.

Michael's facial expression was so overjoyed, he couldn't speak much. "I missed you," was all he could manage to get out.

I smiled, and hugged him again. I pulled away, and met those gorgeous brown eyes of his, and kissed him with all of my love for him. As I opened my eyes, I didn't see my brown ones. Instead, I saw a pair of almost-white eyes, staring at me, in delight. I pulled away, to see light brown hair instead of Michael dark curls.

"Get away from me, Greg!" I screamed, and tried to run. But, I was apparently stuck to my seat, and couldn't move. I screamed and screamed for help, but my voice began to hoarse.

I almost jumped 10 feet into the air as I woke up, and realized I was only dreaming...a nightmare.

It had been two whole weeks without my Michael to protect and comfort me. I don't understand how I survived almost 20 years without him by my side...I'm not strong anymore. Without him, I'm literally nothing.

"Wake up," Greg shook me awake, and held a nasty, home-made looking dress in his arms. The colour: white. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no! No! No! No!

I saw the dress, and tried to jump out the window, but stupid Damon stepped in front of me. I squirmed out of his grip, and fell to the floor, only to be met with a pair of eyes I never wanted to see. He chuckled softly, "Don't try to leave me again, silly willy! I'll find you anyway!" He ruffled his fingers through my hair, and arose from the floor. I smacked my arm out, trying to get his hand out of my head, but he had already moved it.

He lifted me up, trying to show some type of kindness, but I'm not buying it. Each time I try to appreciate the same kindness, he ends up hurting me physically.

"Come on, we're going to have to wake up and get dressed on our wedding day!" He smiled. I think he's just a psychotic man who doesn't know how to let things go. Instead of cooperating, I sat back down, and crossed my arms and legs. If he's going to act like a small-minded baby, then so will I!

"I'm not marrying you, ass wipe." I stood firm, not making contact.

He chuckled, "You're a funny one aren't you?" He picked me up by my arm, and held his face inches from mine, "But you are going to get ready and marry me, got it?" His tone wasn't so nice anymore, and I was scared.

Even though I wasn't going to, I told Greg I'd get ready on my own, and make myself look the best I could, if he didn't have any henchman hovering over my every move. He agreed to respect my privacy, and told the Double D's to take off. I don't understand what he has going through that little brain of his... how does he expect us to get legally married, when he's a fugitive, and I'm a missing person? I hope he doesn't try to marry us himself. But being him, I'm pretty sure he will.

I went to the 'bathroom' (which was really a room made of concrete with a dirty sink, with a completely fogged up mirror, and a hole in the ground by some toilet paper) to "get ready". I sat on the floor, silently crying. Everything reminded me of him. And the more I thought about him, the more I felt like I was never going to see him again. I grabbed the sharp rock on the floor, and marked the fourteenth tally of the miserable days I've spent in this hostage home.

As I cried to myself, I heard a dog bark, and bark, and bark. I jumped up, silently; in hopes Greg hadn't heard the dog barking. I walked slowly, to the little hole that provided light for the room, and saw a police officer, following the canine that led him towards me. I started shaking, in hopes that he wouldn't fly by me, because the house was covered in shrubs. I had a choice of screaming, and getting saved, or screaming, then Greg comes in and takes me farther away.