Moments with Michael

Nightmares

It's the year 1987, and you and Michael have been together for six months, and lived together for a few months

It's almost midnight, when a scream resonates through the corridors in the beautiful Neverland Ranch. Soon enough, the sound of running feet is heard, and if you were to see in the dark, your eyes would catch a beautiful, young man, just in his pajamas, and with the black curls falling messily all over his face, hurrying to the bedroom the scream came from...

I'm unable to stop my writers mind, from coping with the situation the only way I know: by putting it into words, making it into a story.

The words calm me, but not enough that I'm not still gasping for air. I'm bathed in cold sweat as well, and the images from my nightmare just won't leave my mind. I can't help but picture it over and over again, only adding to my pain and fear.

But soon enough, I hear the door open smoothly, and a well-known figure steps in. For a moment he searches around with his hand, before finding the switch and turning the light on. The sudden change from darkness to a warm, yellow light, momentarily blinds me. I shut my eyes, for then to force myself to reopen them, and ending up blinking like an idiot. But I don't care, I don't care about nothing but the man in front of me.

He sits down beside me on the bed, and I read compassion and sincere sadness and pain to see me like this, in his eyes. Oh, those eyes! They are large, the iris a deep shade of brown, and always sparkling with emotion. Whether he's happy, sad, angry, or, what I most often see when he looks at me, in love, you can always see it in his eyes.

Not hesitating a moment, I throw my arms around him and hold him as tight as if it was a matter of life or dead. Within a second, I feel his strong arms around me, comforting me as he lays his head on mine, his fingers playing with my hair. Despite only being together for six months, he already knows me so well. He knows, that the best way to calm me when I'm having my nightmares, is to just be there. To let me feel, let me know, that I'm not alone. And his presence is more precious than anything I could ever ask for. His strong arms makes me feel protected, his caring touch makes me feel loved, his deep, emotional eyes makes me feel understood.

Nothing in the world makes me feel better, more safe, than this man. And thinking that I should be the one, lucky woman, out of millions, to be Michael Jacksons girlfriend.

I let my thoughts run wild, relieved to think of anything but the terrible dream that always haunts my nights. It has always been the same, though it has changed a bit over the last months. Since I met Michael, the crowd of innocent people that I'm forced to kill, to rip apart with my own hands, have had one face shining out to me. Even surrounded by my family and friends, all the people I have ever known and loved, his face shines the brightest.

It's always what I see, right before I wake up. His face up close, fear written in every line. Pure terror in his eyes, fleeing from me to save his life.

The thought is so down-right horrible, the absolute worst situation imaginable, that I almost feel as though I'm about to throw up. And of course, it's that situation I'm forced to live so many nights.

I feel the tears start falling from my eyes, and I hold on to Michael even more than before, scared that he will disappear if I don't. Run away from me, as the monster I am. I start sobbing, deep, ugly sobs that hurts in my throat, but I can't stop it.

"Just let it all out, sweetheart. It's okay, remember I'm here with you. I'm not gonna let anything hurt you!" Michael sweetly whispers into my ear, in a continuing flow of comforting words. I can feel the light kisses his lips leaves on my skin, in an endless attempt to help me, calm me, make me happy again.