CHICAGO (Michael Jackson)

Chapter 17-"Another Part Of Me"

Michael's POV

I stretched as I got up out of bed.
It's been a week since I have spoken to Chicago.

We ended in an argument.

A careless, offending and meaningless argument.

I was mad at her. She was mad at me.

The lunch wasn't not even a lunch but rather an inception of the verbal fight.

I walked into the bathroom with a part of her wellness lingering through my thoughts. In and out. She made me drop her off at her mom's which was okay because I signed her out of the hospital before leaving for the "lunch". A huge and honourable house it was. Golden spray trimmed the huge gate. This enormous house was painted white with face bricked partitions here and there.

Week ago.

"Don't see the point as to why I came here", she muttered as she got into the car.

"You're just a selfish little bitch, you know that?", I yelled to her face in the car.

"Excuse me?", she yelled back.

"You heard god damn well what I said! If it weren't for me, you'd be roaming these streets in little skimping clothes. I even cancelled my concerts for you!", I started firing the engine up.

She remained quiet.
Then she spoke.

"When I was a young girl, I'd see you on tv with your brothers. Dancing and singing. I even watched that cartoon of you guys", she looked out to her window and could tell that tears started to fill her eyes because her voice became shaky when she said, " I an hard on you. I do know that. But I am a bitter, lonely and depressed person. I did not ask you to pick me up or cancel your concerts for that matter"

At that moment, she opened the holder at the passenger seat for tissue.

"No...no!", I tried to stop her but I was too late. She looked up to me and bit the inside of her mouth.
She held, what she found, with her thumb and forefinger. I pulled the car of from the road onto the side of it. And there was silence for 1 minute.

I heard her breath in before she asking, "What's this? What's propofol?"