A Special Gift (A Michael Jackson Fantasy)

Chapter 7

Michael's P.O.V.

     I really liked Bridget, as a friend, of course. I hadn't known her long enough to have feelings, but I thought in the future, there was a possibility I may.

     I dropped by her place around 10 to see how she was doing. She was most likely waiting for me. She was still in bed. I hoped she was okay. She looked at me. "Why are you still in bed?" I asked.

     "I'm sick today." She said weary.

     "I'm sorry. I hope you get better." I sat next to her bed.

     "Michael, you wouldn't be able to catch this, right?"

     "No, I can't. I don't catch sicknesses from this world anymore. Heck, I can't really catch a sickness at all."

     "Lucky you." She sounded really weary.

     "Are you okay?"

     "Yes, fine."

     "You sound a little weak."

     "That's what a sickness does to you, Michael."

     "I know, but you sound a little too weak."

     "I'm fine. I promise you." I felt her forehead.

     "Are you sure? You're really warm. I think you should get Liz."

     "Michael, I'm fine, really."

     "Call her in here. You're burning up. There's something wrong."

     "Michael, really, you don't need to . . ."

     "Bridget, I'm not arguing with you. I want you healthy. Get Liz." She rolled her eyes and shouted for her. Well, actually, it was more like a faint yell, but all that mattered was Liz heard her and was coming.

     "What's wrong, Bridget?" She asked.

     "Could you take my temperature again?" Liz felt her forehead.

     "See, that wasn't so hard." I said, and Bridget gave me a look.

     "Sure, I'll be right back." Liz said rushing to the bathroom.

     "Oh, gosh!" Bridget said. "Michael, get me a trash can, quick." I grabbed one and she let out what looked like some of this morning's breakfast into it. The smell was pretty bad.

     "Are you sure you're all . . ." She put up one finger in the air and barfed again. I looked away.

     "All right. I got it, Bridget." Liz said, and I quickly hid the trash can from her sight before she could come back in the room. She put the thermometer in Bridget's mouth. "You'll definitely need to stay in bed. It's pretty high."

     "How high?" Bridget asked.

     "102. Get some rest. You're going to need it." Liz said and left the room. I was glad Bridget was okay, but she needed to lower that temperature a bit.

     "I guess I should get going then." I said getting up.

     "No, Michael, please stay." Bridget said.

     "You heard what Liz said. Get your rest, okay? I'll be back tomorrow to check up on you."

     "All right, Michael, bye!"

     "Bye!" I said walking back into the poster. I really hoped Bridget turned out fine. I was also wondering, what if she caught the sickness because she came to my world? I hoped not. I also hoped this wasn't my fault. Well, I'd find out the next day I checked on her.

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