Finding my Happiness

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I stare, disbelief etched on my face, trying to gather my thoughts as quickly as my brain will allow. My reaction super delayed as I lay paralyzed on the garage floor. The smoke starts clearing faster and faster through the open door and I can see the face even clearer, tho I was already certain I knew who it was. My heart which seemed to have stopped, picks up pace and begins beating rapidly. Is it really him? Those iconic features are just soooo identical to....Michael Jackson, the 80s version, looking like he stepped right off the BAD album. "Where am I?......Who are you?.....Why am I on the floor?" He blinks at me eyes filled with confusion and worry. WTF!!!, he talks!!!! And I know that voice. I lean closer to him throwing all caution to the wind and his presence...it feels so real...but just as quickly as my brain threw away caution, it reconnects to my senses and I suddenly realize, he's an intruder. I notice his reaction was delayed too because he finally decides to get up after laying for a while, he got up slow but it was too fast for me, I scream and deck him right in the jaw causing him to tumble into the boxes behind him. I haul ass out of the garage running back through the hallway, not even taking a quick glance back. I turn the corner too quickly not paying attention and crash into someone and we fall on our asses. Honestly, what is going on with all the falling down every two seconds? I look in front of me to see another....Michael Jackson?! WHAT. THE. FUCK.  "Hey watch where you're going!" An '82 Era Michael says, as he stands back up. My jaw falls open wide. My mind not acknowledging the fact he told me to be careful in my OWN home which, he should NOT be in. He looks down at me and smiles, extending his hand out to me. "Here let me help you up." I scream again, jump up, pushing him against the wall and out of my way to find a safe place to hide and call the cops. I run to the kitchen trying to find a knife or something to defend myself. I pull out an old cast iron skillet and turn when yet again, he has multiplied, this time a '95 Era. "Hey! Who are you and where am I?! I will call the police!", he said nervously. I roll my eyes, so there's three now?! They have to be impersonators, they just have to be. Then again, why the fuck would they all act confused breaking into my house?! Unless that's part of their rouse. "You have til the count to three before I call my body guards in here....1, 2...." Right before he gets to three, I swing my skillet at his left arm and bolt out of there not looking back. I can hear him groaning in pain tho, cussing up a storm. I need to hide and I find myself hoping this is all a dream. As I get to the stairs, one of the closet doors near by, bursts open and falling out, is another Michael. I have had it with this! I know for sure I'm going insane. "Ouch! Where the hell am I?!" A '01 Era MJ says, rubbing the back of his neck. I don't even scream anymore but I'm in full on panic mode, I practically burn rubber, going so fast up the stairs to my room. I make it there in double time and I shut and lock the door behind me. Beads of sweat form on my forehead while my ragged breathe fills the quietness of the room. I turn and lean my back on the door and open my eyes to see a '91 Era Michael on my bed, you've got to be fucking kidding me! "Um excuse me? Do you mind telling me why I'm here? I just woke up and I'm no longer in my trailer. Is the crew trying to play a trick on me?" He laughs nervously, that soft voice barely above a whisper. When I scream for what feels like the millionth time, he gets panicky and slowly gets off my bed. "Are you ok sweetheart? Did I do something?" He asks, trying to calm me down but I quickly grab my phone, turn right back around, run out of my room, screaming my way down the stairs, to see the 01' Michael still here looking around lost and confused. When he sees me coming down the stairs, he steps in front, effectively blocking me like he expects some answers as well. I shove him right outta my way making him fall against the wall. I have to get the fuck outta here. On the way to the door, out of the living room comes a '79 Era MJ blocking my path AGAIN.  "Hey! I want some answers! Return me back to my family! I know you've kidnapped me." he shouts angrily. "Please just leave me the fuck alone! I didn't kidnap you! You guys are fucking crazy!" I bump pass him trying to get out the door when he runs right in front of it. "No! You are going to tell me where you have taken me!"he shouts again. "Oh my gosh, this can't be happening." I do my best to stay calm..I bury my face into my hands silently hoping that when I look back up, it's all a dream..that didn't happen.....out comes the '87 Era Michael, jogging down the hall with a bruised jaw in search of answers. His eyes lock with mine then travels slowly over to the '79 Era of himself. I brace myself because shit is about to get weird. His jaw hangs to the floor as he sees standing right before him, an eerie resemblance of himself. The '79 era MJ looks at him in utter confusion, you have to realize that he's looking at his future and that's not something many of us could handle, seeing yourself but aged almost 10 years. "Y-You're me...but how?" He says walking closer to us. "What are you talking about? I don't even know who you are" '79 Era says, disbelief dripping from his tone. And in my head, I know it's only about to get weirder cause here comes all the different Michael's running from different directions of the house, all ending up at the front door. They all freeze and go back and forth through the different eras of themselves. I sit back looking at each of there faces and realize that 1. I still have yet to leave this house, 2. I haven't called 911, and 3. I think I might just be dumb enough or crazy enough to believe this ain't no impersonation type shit...this was real and it just has to be a dream. I know when I feel Michael's presence through the song and I feel it now but way stronger. No one says anything for what seems like an eternity. But now with them all focused on each other, I can slowly back away and run, hoping I can understand what the fuck is going on. Then right above me from the attic,
two men come tumbling down, breaking each others fall and I move away just in time. We all stare as two more MJs join the party. '97 Era and '09 Era. They all collectively look at each other, disbelief on everyone's face. It was like looking through a mirror that shows future and past. Then suddenly they all turn and look at me...panic bubbling back up, my brain reconnecting again and I run the fuck outta there hitting speed dial set to 911. A panicked scream escapes my mouth that I must've been holding on to, while I run to my car unlocking the door. I can barely see my keys, blinded not only by the darkness but the thick snow that falls in a blanket around me. Finally an operator answers my phone call. "911, What's your emergency?" A professional but soft female voice says as I try to start my car but of course, the shitty thing doesn't want to. Fuck my life. I respond to her after a beat and I'm aware it sounds all breathy and loud "Yes I would like to report a break in please! I am very scared and I need help!" I continue to play with the screwdriver. "Ok ma'am, can you tell me where you are and try to describe the intruders, to the best of your abilities."she says calmly. "That's easy!" I scream, "They all look like Michael Jackson! There are 8 of them in my house and I'm freaking out please send help immediately!" I say in a rush. "Ma'am, did you just say they look like Michael Jackson?" The operator says confused yet slightly annoyed. This lady think I'm playing, I roll my eyes."Yes, Michael Jackson! All 8 of them! They are all over my house! I just need someone to come down here please!" I do my best to sound urgent and serious. "Ma'am this line is for emergency calls only." Her voice not as soft and sounding angry. "This is an emergency! I need hel..." The operator hangs up the phone before I can even get out my full sentence. I cuss loudly and hit my steering wheel repeatedly until my car starts. Once it does, I drive the fuck outta there. I dial Cassandras number next to see if she can be any help. It takes a good little minute for her to answer the phone and I start jumping up and down anxiously. "Come on Cass! Please answer the phone!" I say on the verge of tears. I just have to be having a mental breakdown, I just have to be. Who in the world sees 8 Michael Jackson's all at once, all from different eras, and all just as confused as you?! "Hello?" Cass says, finally answering the phone sounding groggy. "Cass!" I say overly excited and not at all scared. "I need your help! I'm losing my fucking mind!". "Girl what's going on? You good?" she asks worriedly sounding more awake. "Oh yeah I'm just great Cass, it's all candy and rainbows over here!" I say sarcastically, not meaning to take my frustrations out on her. "Jazz just chill, what's wrong?" She's says slightly annoyed with my tone. "I am losing my FUCKING mind Cass! I'm literally driving around the city trying to process what I just witnessed." "Well what did you witness...hello?! Jazz!! Girl you scaring me!" I was just about to answer when from behind me, comes a rustling sound but I try not to pay it no mind, I'm already losing it as is. I take a deep breath, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to call me crazy because I know what I saw was real, I'm forewarning you that I'm fully aware how crazy it will sound and I'm needing you to put all your faith and trust in me!" "Ok" she says slowly as if talking to a child, I roll my eyes. "What was it?" I open my mouth but stop when out of the corner of my eye from my rear view mirror, I see a large Afro peeking from behind me. I drop my phone instantly and look again, adjusting the mirror more to the back...you have GOT to be shitting me, a Jackson Five MJ. "Excuse me miss, do you mind telling me where you're taking me?" He asks with a scrunched up face. I completely forget Cass is still on the phone and I scream again bringing the car to a screeching halt. This newly discovered Michael falls forward hitting the back of my seat, while I ditch my car and run outta there. I run not even half a mile before stopping to catch my breath. 9....there are 9 in total..maybe..and now I'm seriously considering checking myself into a crazy house. But the real question is why am I running? I love him and my feelings are telling me that it's the real Michael Jackson...but it makes me wonder why different eras are coming to me, it is scary but also pretty cool I guess...maybe not, I don't know just yet but right now, I know I'm not equipped to deal with it. Honestly, my Flight or Fight kicked in. While I'm trying to wrap my mind around what I have witnessed, a young boys voice calls for me the distance. "Excuse me Miss! Come back!" I turn around and here comes the little Michael running up to me. "You're not real! Just leave me alone!" I spat at him and I begin to walk away. His foot steps pick up pace behind me while he shouts at me again. "Hey Lady I just need your help! No need to get angry." he says mockingly. "Please just leave me alone! I already feel like shit, you don't have to make me feel crazy too, tho I can't say that I already don't!" I roll my eyes again. "What are you talking about?"he says confused. I stop and turn just as he finally catches up with me. "I'm talking about you! I don't know if I hit peak depression and reality and fantasy are mixed or if I just all of the sudden have the ability to see 9 different you's but I don't want this shit! I'm already going through stuff and I don't wanna deal with seeing things that aren't real." I say trying not to sound too angry, I know it's not his fault I'm seeing him. "I am real! See!" He grabs my hand and places it on his chest...I feel his heartbeat radiate into my hand. My face softens immediately and I drop to my knees. "Do you believe me now?" Tears fall down my face as I look at the young Michael and nod, I'm still not sure I can process this but you can't fake a heartbeat and I have to admit he's not nor has he tried hurting me. "So now can you help me? I'm pretty sure my brothers are looking for me."and I can tell there's a hint of panic in his voice. "Um...things are kind of complicated right now. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on." I say looking around nervously, I don't know how to even begin explaining to him what's going on. "Miss you are confusing me." He says shaking his head with his hands on his hips. "Come on I'll explain everything in the car." I get up and I brush the dirty snow off my knees and suddenly realize I left the house in such a rush, I've forgotten to put on pants or shoes for that matter. I roll my eyes and can't help but wonder how this night could get any weirder. I'm kinda thankful little MJ didn't point it out unless he didn't really pay attention either. I grab his hand with the little dignity I have left and we walk towards the car and I finally feel the cold that I somehow was oblivious to. My mind starts wondering and tossing different scenarios in my head. Do I start off by explaining that he's technically dead and I think he's a ghost haunting me? Pshh, I toss that one out the window just as fast as it came through it, I mentally face palm, I can't believe that even crossed my mind, no matter what he is, he's still a kid..I sigh deeply and I feel his hand tighten around mine. I look down at him and I think he can sense my apprehension. I give him a reassuring smile as we reach the car. I buckle him in not sure if it's for his safety or more so, I wanna strap him down so he can't go nowhere and I can rest assure that it's not just in my head. I get in and see my phone on the ground, I pick it up quickly and say hello a few times but no answer, just fantastic, I hit my steering wheel..how am I supposed to explain to Cass what just happened, I can't even explain it to my damn self. As I drive away, I have an unpleasant thought, Michael Jackson can come and appear out of nowhere in multiple forms, questioning my mental health, but my Dad not even ONCE has paid me a visit....he would've at least made sense, so now I'm stuck wondering what to trust...my heart or my diminishing mental health?