❥𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 || 𝑀𝐽 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 /𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ𝒹 /❥•

♥Sick(Jacksons Era)♥

A/N: This is a request from Litty_mikay.....girl, I'm sorry if it didn't go exactly as you'd intended it to be.....my internet began playing up and I'd already drafted the imagine....and when I checked my inbox again...I realized that it was a little different.

I'm so sorry :(

Also, (I know, I say 'also' a lot) I didn't exactly manage to ask you what sickness you'd had so um......I went ahead and based it off of one of my many conditions XD (oh, the only advantage of being sickly like myself. You have so many options T_T)
Yeah.
I hope you're not offended....and I hope that you're okay with it.

You probably won't like the fact that your character was made sickly................but if it's any consolation...


I have to deal with myself everyday XD

ANNYHOOO..

Have fun and enjoy!

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You groan a little as you scan your weak form in the full length mirror of your room. Your lips are quite pale and your face seems to be drained of all possible color. Pure dullness emits from your eyes and they appear to be lifeless orbs.

Of course, one would think that you've been through a bad breakup perhaps, and that you aren't taking it too well. 

But no. That's not the case at all.

In fact, you are feeling a little under the weather and your physical appearance is doing nothing to help your intention to hide it. 

For the past few days, you've been experiencing dizzy spells and extreme fatigue. Undoubtedly, you knew very well that this was normal since you were quite a sickly person - but you were sort of hoping that it wouldn't be too persistent. 

However, like always - your plans never go accordingly.

In fact, you were starting to believe that the whole world had some sort of conspiracy against you.

"Seriously?" you mutter weakly to yourself, moving closer to the mirror to observe your poorly form.

Just as you backed away from the mirror, you heard a soft knock from the other side of your bedroom door.

Oh God, how can anyone see me like this? My face is literally a giveaway that I'm sick as hell!

Gritting your teeth slightly, you inhale sharply before moving toward the door.

"Who is it?" you ask softly, trying your best to conceal the weakness in your tone. You decide to stand at the closed door and wait for the person's response.

"Mikayla," you hear Janet giggle from outside. "It's me, what the hell?"

Obviously, you lived in the Jackson house so constant visits from your almost sister was rather common.

Too common. 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head.

"Hi," you say - the piece of wood acting as the medium of conversation exchange between the two of you. 

"Can you open up the door?" she asks with a shrilly tone.

Just hearing the words escape her lips - you can most definitely tell that she's currently raising an eyebrow in skepticism.