Elvis Presley Imagines

Just pretend.

|| Hello, everybody! Thank you for all the love and support, I really am grateful! Anyway: this story will be a bit different than the others, so be sure to read it 'till the end, so you can understand the true meaning of it! Enjoy!! Also, please don't get mad at me for my choices in this story. I don't want to disrespect him or anything. ||

"A lonely life ends on Elvis Presley Boulevard."

"King dies at 42."

"Elvis Presley dead."

This is what you read on the local newspapers in Memphis. Your heart starts aching as you think about it, your idol is now dead. You don't know what to do, you feel your body shatter into a thousand pieces. You cry and sob in the living room of your small house, your mother looks at you as she feels bad for you. You rush inside your bedroom, ripping all the papers off, leaving them around the house. You close the door and lock yourself inside, laying on your bed and curling up in a ball. You have Elvis' posters all over the walls of your room, which makes you feel more pain. You want to take them off, yet you love looking at his smiling face.

The image of his dead body haunts your thoughts, as you remember falling in love with him when you were two. You are 20 now, yet it hurts you so much to see your only dream being destroyed. You had even bought the ticket to the concert that he would have performed tomorrow... You sigh and keep crying for a long time, keeping the pillow against your body. You wish this day would never come, or, if it really had to, you seriously hoped for it to arrive really late in your life.

Your mother knocks on the door and sighs. "Y/N, baby... I brought you some food. You hadn't come out since this morning." She tells you. You wipe your tears and look at the door, not standing up from the bed. "Mom... I want to be alone. Sorry." You say, kindly refusing your mother's offer. "Well, just come in the kitchen once you feel like it." Your mother replies, walking back to the living room.

You decide to play one of his latest records, the one that contains the perfect song for your mood. You put the vinyl disc on the record player and sigh, since you know that you're going to cry again. His voice starts echoing in your room, you look at the posters and you start having some hallucinations as you feel like he is talking to you.

"Just pretend, I'm holding you

and whispering things soft and low;

and think of me, how it's gonna be...

Just pretend I didn't go.

When I walked away, I heard you say:

If you need me, you know what to do.

I knew it then, I'd be back again.

Just pretend I'm right there with you."

The words of his song 'Just Pretend' hit your head; you fall on the floor, completely without strength. You close your eyes as more tears roll down your cheeks. OH, how you wish he didn't go. The sad thing is that you can't even pretend, even if he 'tells you so'.

"And I'll come flying to you, oh yes.

All the crying is true...