tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

december 21ˢᵗ ─ 3:07 ᵃᵐ

(Dec. 21st ─3:07 am)

- Chapter 1 -

"I want to see his face again. I-I want to know that I'll be able to."  Katherine Jackson turned her eyes on me through the television. She wasn't crying but her eyes, they were both intensely despairing and sad.

I clutched the soft brown covers to my body as I watched her speak about the situation, trying not to burst into tears. Her children Janet and Jermaine were standing behind her, so strong in such a breaking situation.

Imagine your own sibling going missing.

"I just─I want my son back." Katherine chocked out, her face wet. "That's it. Goodbye." She stepped down from the podium and disappeared from the camera shot.

I was currently sitting on the small couch in my cabin's living-room, it was dark. The living-room was the smallest room in the cabin but it was cluttered with DVDs, books, toys and clothes.

The TV had gone to a commercial.

It's a fresh early morning, probably 3 am right now. I don't even know why I'm still awake. I'd been texting my best friend, Liya for a few hours before she went to bed. After tuning into a few terrible horror movies I switched to the news and unintentionally saw the Jackson matriarch's plea. 

I stand from the couch and shut the TV off.

I pad over toward the small space that is the kitchen. I flick on the light, sit the remote down on the counter and slide over to the fridge where I remove a wrapped plate of brownies.

Peeling the plastic off, I take in the sight of these shiny brownies. They look so good. I can hear a small rumble beneath my pink nightgown. I place the glass plate in the microwave. 

"Diana?"

I nearly choke on my saliva, startled. 

I spin around to where the stairs are and see that Michael had come down them wearing my brother's old black PJ's. He looks tired.

"It's really late. What are you doing up?" Michael reached up to scratch at his hairline.

"What am I doing up?" I go over to the microwave and open it. Setting the warm plate onto the counter. "Need I remind you it's my house, buddy."

Michael was a glowing face in the dark, the pajama's looked weirdly good him. And the face under his thick cap of tangled dark curls, was grinning.

He walked into the kitchen, a slight slant in his walk. His fingers drummed against the clean surface counter. "What have you been doing all this time?"

I turned to look at the television. "I was just..." I trailed off, as his mother's face appeared on the tv screen again from the living-room.

Michael caught a look at the TV, headed over to the sink, and rinsed out a glass cup and filled it with water."I guess you didn't take my advice."

I knew what he was talking about, I knew he had told me that watching the news probably wasn't the best idea, but I didn't want him to know that.

"What advice?" I stabbed into one of the brownies with the fork.

Michael turns off the faucet and slides into the stool across from me, he sips his drink, his calm doe eyes gazing at me in a way that made me feel like he knew all my secrets. "I avoid that thing as much as possible." He looks at the tv. "It just makes me feel worse."

I didn't reply, just watched that faraway look in his eyes whenever he thought about the situation. 

"I'm sorry." I barely whispered, no longer having an appetite.

His eyes ray out like a smile. "It wasn't your decision, Diana." He says it in a tone as if he were reminding me of something for the millionth time.

I let out a relieved sigh and shake my head. "I know, but I also know you're not feeling so positive about this so..." 

Michael traces his finger along the foggy rim of his cup. "It was my choice."

"Still." I said. 

- 

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