Fascinating Lights ( A Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

Sleeping Pills & Appointments

I'm well known by the consequences and the pressure I set on my body but this question and the daily look at myself in the mirror keeps making me doing it.

I put the plates in the sink, grabbing my cup and walking back to the bedroom.
I was focused so hard on this problem that at first I didn't noticed that Michael put his key into the door, twisting it.
I got completely frightened and flinched as the door swung open as he stood there, looking at me.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't meant to scare you", he said closing the door, taking off his coat.
I grabbed my forehead with one hand, "It's ok... this terrible headache made me loose focus".

It wasn't the headache at all, I simply wouldn't let him know that I again inhaled food like this while I actually was supposed to sleep.

The Next Week

Valerie slightly sobbed into the palm of her hand as she grabbed tight on the tissue with her other one.
My facial expressions soften by only looking at her. It is hard indeed.
Talking about something that makes you feel so worthless and ashamed at the same time isn't always easy but in the end it's good for you subconsciousness and the soul.
"Regulary he shows up once or twice per week, but he comes almost every day - and only for me as it seems", she mumbled, tears rolled down every time she blinked.
Some of them held onto her long lashes causes her mascara to smear down in stains.
"The last nights I told him that I only serve drinks, nothing more, but he insisted on booking me for the night".
"What about the other girls, were you the only one there?", I asked.
"Dolores actually is always after us girls that we feel well and no clients does things to us that we don't want... unless the person pays very good", she shot me a glare of disgust.
"And he pays very good, so I had to go with him".
Shaking my head, I couldn't believe it.
How desperate Dolores has to be to force her girls in this situations.
"Tell me, what is he doing to you that affects you that much?", I tried to keep my professional skill up but it was hard to ask her questions like this.
"Well, it's always different", she began.
"One day it's just the normal stuff... the other day he is very agressive and pounds in me like an animal, choking me and doesn't stop even when I say it's enough... it somethimes is hard to walk after this", she cleared her throat.
"I remember one time, he came along with a whip, the security probably didn't noticed it because it's forbidded to bring items like this to our place".
"Did he use it?".
"Not only the whip, but yes... he slapped me a few times on different spots very hard, also my face got hit with his hand".
She tucked up her sleeve showing me some older bruises.
Some of them looked fresher than the other ones.
I assumed she covers some with make up, at least the area around her face.

Just after an hour I already have written half of a page full of notes that this client does to her.
Not only whips were involved, he sometimes uses his belt followed by his teeth or his bare palm.
"He must have some immense troubles with self-control and anger", I spoke.
"Well, not really", she began.
"He indeed is a little short tempered, but regulary he is a calm and understanding person, actually very lovely... but not the last few times".
"He wanted once to get bitten by me, I did as he told me, and I actually enjoyed it - releasing my anger, maybe I've overdone it a little", she said balling her fists.
"I wish I could strangle him to death".

I stood up and walked over to her seat on the bench.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, comforting her.
I think it's the best thing I could do now, she's still very young and maybe needs a shoulder to cry on - her mother may be the last person to give her something like that.
"Take your time, I won't ask any question for this day", I said soft, rubbing my palm up and down her upper arm.
"We're finished".
She cleaned the tear stains off of her face and looked at me.
Her big brown eyes staring right into mine, "Thank you for comforting me Ms. Langdon".

"Here take this receipt", I handed her a piece of paper for medication that may help her a little, nothing strong just a so called 'friend' for tough nights.
And with this she left my office.