Michael Jackson Imagines

Living

“No, you cannot be in love with someone who’s dead. Let’s be honest here Michelle you haven’t even met him ever. You came to know about him ten years after his death, just stumbling across some random music video of his. You are not in love with Michael Jackson you just love an image a persona which is different, which is larger than life and hence you’re projecting all your expectations, desires onto him. You dream of him as this ideal man and he is ideal because in your imagination he does only what you want him to do. If you’re sad you expect him to comfort you and he does exactly what you want him to do Michelle because he exists only in your mind. The real Michael Jackson died on the 25th of June, 2009 and that is the truth, the reality that you will have to come to terms with” the therapist said as the session ended. 

There was silence. 

“Michelle, Michelle” he spoke calling her name attempting to bring her to the reality that the majority of the world lived in 

“yes Doctor?”

“I want you to do something this week okay? You have to remove all posters of Michael Jackson from your room, all books, clothes or any other paraphernalia. You have to unfollow him and any other fan account of his on all social media platforms, you are not to keep anything, anything that reminds you of him. Do not read those stories on Wattpad, or watch videos of his on YouTube. You have to follow this very strictly for one week, do you get me Michelle? Or else we’ll have to incarcerate you and do it forcefully. It’s better you do it on your own”

“yes Doctor” 

“and continue writing down your thoughts and feelings in the journal. Do not stop that. Thank you for coming, I’ll see you next week, same time. And remember this week absolutely no Michael Jackson, no videos, no fanfics, no pictures and no thoughts of him either”

“Yes Doctor, thank you”

The walls looked empty as all his posters were rolled up in the corner. She picked up the books beginning with ‘Moonwalk’ and without even looking at the front cover for a second time she packed it in a box. A socially acceptable, confining box from which escape was impossible or too dangerous. She switched on her phone and changed the screen lock and home wallpaper. She then clicked on the little Instagram icon till the word ‘uninstall’ popped up. This was easier to do then go and unfollow all accounts. Having removed him from her life, she switched off the lights and sat in the darkness for a while. 

A day passed by, she realized when the sunrays peeped in through the cracks of the curtains. She pretended to wake up and went about doing her chores. It was weekend fortunately and hence there were no classes. As there was not much else to do, she decided to jot down how she was feeling in the journal. 

8th of May, 2019

I woke up at seven thirty today. After my morning chores I made breakfast, eggs and toast. I made sunny side up eggs because that is what I was feeling like having. I burnt the toast a little, not because I was careless but because I wanted to. I saw smoke coming out from the toaster but I couldn’t get myself to switch it off. Two slices of bread popped up and I picked it and placed it on my plate. In the process I burnt my hand which I’m only realising now because my fingers are purple in colour. Then I applied some butter on one toast and then the other but as I was about to eat it, I realized when the butter melted on my finger that I had only buttered two sides of the same toast. So, I had one toast buttered and the other one dried. I forked the egg, but the yolk was overcooked. It didn’t have any salt either but I had it anyways, I was hungry and that I knew. Then I felt thirsty, so I went to the fridge and picked out a carton of juice, there was only one carton left and it was…it was orange juice. No, no, no.