Have you ever wondered what would Michael Jackson's life look like if some events didn't happen to him? If he had someone he trusted by his side through everything? Someone that had the power to save him from his tormented life?
Hayley "Brit" Thame...
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March 1st, 1991
Dear Diary,
Days go by, and every morning I wake up with his face in my head. No matter how much I try to erase him from my mind, I can't. He is not only in my head anymore, it's like he is under my skin, in my bones. Like I can't get rid of him, like we were forever linked together.
He is everywhere, but at the same time, he is nowhere to be found. Everywhere I look, he isn't there. I can hear his voice and see his face, but it's all in my head. I feel like I am becoming crazy without him. I'm just as empty as I was before he walked into my life, even sadder, if humanely possible.
Michael keeps on calling, and I just keep ignoring him. I hate myself for doing that, but I have to. Grams asked me to stay away from him because she is scared for my life, and I can't take the risk to worry her. I will always put her first, no matter how angry I am with her at the moment. She is the only family I have left.
But I—... I miss Michael. I hate the fact that he's become so important to me in such a short time, but I do. I miss him, I miss how he makes me feel. He needs me, and I need him, things should be simple. If I want to be near him again, I need to find a way to reassure Grams about my health. There must be something I can do to stop putting my life at risk by being around Michael, and I am going to find it, because he is worth it. He is worth the fight.
I can't even have visions anymore, Diary. Does this mean this is the end? Because I am not going to accept it. This can't be it.
I sighed heavily, and wiped the tears I had under my eyes with the back of my hand. This whole situation wore me out emotionally speaking. Fighting against my own feelings was probably one of the hardest thing I ever had to do. It's like I was absorbed by what I was feeling inside without paying much attention to what was happening on the outside. I was lacking something, something vital for me, for my well-being. This something had only one name: Michael Jackson.
I could start to explain how his absence created such a void deep inside of me, but I wouldn't be able to use the proper words, for this feeling was entirely new for me. Of course I experienced loss and grief in the past, but this feeling here was different from what I had ever experienced in my life. I tried to put words on this when Alice and I talked, but I miserably failed. She noticed how distracted and off I was, and I think it worried her to the highest point. She wasn't used to seeing me this down, because I normally try to fake a smile, and go with whatever situation I have to face.
Everything was different this time, I couldn't control anything anymore.
I closed my journal, and put it back on the nightstand, along with some other books I put there. Including Moonwalk, Michael's autobiography. I watched its cover intensely for a few long seconds, asking myself if it was a good idea to keep reading it or not. I loved how his words sounded just like him when he was actually talking to someone, like I could actually hear him say them. This alone gave me some kind of comfort, for it allowed me to feel close to him, as if he was telling me this story himself.
