"The only thing I'm going grant her is a room in the psychiatric wing of Bellevue." Judge Mathis had said, then knocked her court hammer and I was taken away. Sent to a van with mentally unstable people and then I was here.
The room was plain white, no paintings, no carpets. There was a small bed pushed in the corner of the place, a small dresser filled with color-coded clothing, a window with metal bars on them and a mirror.
I'm sure if I had beaten Michael to a pulp, I didn't need to have mental illness to do it. Still, it hurt to know he testified against me.
He'd sat up on the chair and claimed he didn't know if it was me or not, though I have to admit it looked forced. Maybe James had something to do with it. But I was still here, in Bellevue.
Right now, I was wearing white medical scrubs, an attire I would be wearing for the rest of the 10 months I was supposed to spend here.
I hadn't gotten much mail for the past few days, but boy was I surprised when a letter was sent up to my room. It didn't have a return address, a name or even a number. But the second I opened it, I knew who it was from.
Nothing of my doing. Deal with it - JB
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tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)
FanfictionDiana Cartwright helped Michael Jackson escape his world of fame, unaware that he is being harassed by a man in a mask. Sticking with him she is thrust in a world of pain, lies and romance.
