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...
Michael's voice was the first thing I heard when I woke up from my sleep. It was coming from downstairs. Well, from the record player, to be exact. Even though I regretted the fact that Michael wasn't actually there, I enjoyed the sound of his soft voice singing Liberian Girl. I knew Alice did this on purpose, because she had been trying to find a way to cheer me up.
Three days had passed since I last saw Carl, and it was starting to lay heavy on me. In a matter of two months, I got used to seeing him around the loft. Everytime I ended up alone in there, I felt like I was missing something. I knew that, someday he would eventually go, but I wished he didn't have to go like this, without speaking another word after I told him by biggest secret. Alice tried to talk to him about it, but he just avoided the subject, saying that he needed some time on his own and that he'd rather stay at the hospital. I respected his wish, I was just frightened at the simple idea that he would never return.
My whole body was still sore from my injuries, so getting out of bed was harder than usual. My nights were short and painful, but I refused to be drugged by the painkillers Dr. Sanchez prescribed me. I wanted to be aware of everything, and not be some kind of zombie that would sleep all day long. Especially on that particular day. The day I would finally meet Hayden.
Everything that happened since my accident made me realize that meeting with Hayden was becoming urgent. I needed answers to my questions about my family, and of course, my ability. Since I knew nothing about my ability, I had to keep myself away from Michael, afraid that it would be just as bad again, and I couldn't even give explanations to Carl to try to reassure him concerning my health. If Hayden was like me, then I needed him, more than ever.
When I reached the kitchen after dragging myself down the stairs, I met my best friend who was pouring some freshly made orange juice in a tall glass. I didn't know if she was actually okay or if she was just pretending, but whenever I saw her, she gave me a little smile and tried to cheer me up the best she could. I knew that, the fact that Carl and I weren't talking to each other after my confession put her in a bad position, but I also knew that she would answer Carl's questions perfectly. She knew everything about my ability and about my life. If Carl wasn't ready to talk to me because he was afraid, then he would talk to Alice for sure.
"Hey girl," she sweetly greeted, giving me one of her little smiles. "How did you sleep?"
"Hey," I sighed, and sat down at the table with a little wince. "Just like the other nights. It's complicated to close your eyes when you feel like you've been thrown under a bus, but I did catch a few hours of sleep."
"You'll feel better soon, I promise. I gotcha," she reassured, putting a pancake on a plate and pushing it my way. "Eat. You're going to need some strength today."
After Baker learned about my accident, Al asked him if she could take a couple of weeks off to take care of me, and he accepted right away. I was thankful for that. I needed someone by my side, whether I liked to admit it or not. I felt like a burden to her, and I hated that. At some point, she just told me to shut up and to let her act like my best friend. I could see she was taking her role very seriously: she was there with me not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
"I'm not really hungry," I admitted, pushing the plate away. "But thank you, I appreciate it."
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