tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

April 7ᵗʰ ─ 6:30 ᵖᵐ

"Good morning, Diana."

I jumped, scared at the voice. I had a throbbing headache, probably had something to do with the sedative he'd given me.

"What do you want now?" I asked, a voice filled with hatred.

I heard the tread of heavy footsteps. "Relax, It's just some leftovers."

I heard a clatter, and I scurried forward, my hands finding the rim of a bowl. And I dug in, not even knowing what I was eating. When I felt like my stomach had had enough I wiped at my mouth. "So, what? You come feed me down here like a dog?"

"I wish you'd just understand I'm only trying to help you."

I scoffed. "Helping me would include letting me go home, and you're not doing it." I sighed.

"You're just like your Mother."

I scrunched my eyebrows. "Don't talk about my mother. It was my fault she died unhappy anyway." I muttered the rest to myself mostly.

"She's...dead?" He almost sounded genuinely sad about it.

I nodded, though he couldn't see me in the dark. "She had cancer." I breathed in through my nose. "And I don't know why I'm telling you that."

I didn't even hear his footsteps leave, but he was gone.

And I don't know what bought this thought on, but I knew he was more than just my evil captor.