You Ain't Bad || Michael Jackson

Chapter 38: A Sick Woman Who Attempted Murder

Michael's POV

We're at the hospital now. In our own little room. Becky's in the bed and I'm sitting next to her, not moving, not saying a word.

Just holding her hand and repeating the same impossible dream in my head, over and over again.

Everything will be alright.

Everything will be alright.

Everything will be alright.

No! Everything isn't alright! My girlfriend is lying here, her breathing lighter than a freaking feather, her skin as white as a freaking sheet, and more knocked out than me after running in freaking PE class!

I need to calm down. I need to take it easy. Stressing won't do anything.

I take a deep breath. My eyes are fixated on Becky. Her breathing is so shallow, she might as well not be breathing at all.

It's silent in the room we're in. No noise apart from the annoying beeping noise of the heart rate monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep. Shut up!

I sigh.

"Baby, please wake up. I wanna see your pretty, perfect little eyes, your sweet smile, and your breathing making your chest move up and down in sync with mine. I wanna feel your touch, I wanna feel your lips against mine, our fingers interlocking perfectly. I just want you here full stop. I want you sweetheart," I say sadly, taking her hand and interlocking her fingers in mine.

I need to feel her touch. But I can't. All because of Rachel. I actually want to kill her for what she's done to me. She needs arresting.

But right now, my priority is my girlfriend, the reason I live, my baby girl.

I look at her closed eyes. Even when she's out of it, she looks adorable. It makes me sad. If only she could see how perfect she is, no matter what's happening.

I bend down and kiss her lips. They're cold. Very cold. I shudder and stroke her hair. If only she could feel that. But I know she can't. And that makes me sad.

I feel a tear forming in my eye. I let it fall down my cheek. I don't care. No one can see me. Just then, the door opens. Thanks, Mother Nature.

A nurse walks in and sees me crying.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson, how are we today?" she asks.

I see her name tag. Katie.

"Not good, Katie. See this woman here? She's my girlfriend. Been shot. Tell me, do you think she'll live?" I ask. Katie exhales loudly.

"Yes, I think she will. But we'll have to operate. It's a dangerous operation, but it's had more successions that fails. Would you like to take the risk or not?" she asks. I take a moment to think.

"Yes, I want you to operate," I say sharply. Katie smiles.

"Ok. I'll call the nurses and have them take her down," she says, before leaving the room.

I sigh. At least that's a development. She has a chance to be operated on. And if that means she could live, then I'm up for taking that chance.

Moments later, a group of nurses come to take Becky down. I wave goodbye, as if Becky can see me.

When she's out of sight, I sit on the chair next to the area the bed was in. I rest my elbows on my lap and my chin rests on my hands. I hope this all goes ok for Becky. She has to live. Otherwise I might not.

I sigh loudly. I look around the room, wondering about life. I have so many thoughts spiralling round in my head.

Thoughts like, will she live?

Will the operation work?

What if the operation goes wrong?

What if it makes her worse than she started?

Why am I in this situation?

Why have I let myself into all of this, with the whole 'Jax' business, and Daniel?

Why did I not jump in front of Becky when Rachel shot the bullet?

Why wasn't I born a fast runner?

Why couldn't I have got in front of Becky before the bullet hit her?

Why am I letting Rachel walk around a free woman?

Why have I not killed her yet?

And why don't I kill her?

She deserves it. She might have killed my girl.

*Narrator's POV*

While Michael is drowning in his sorrows, Becky is being operated on. The nurses have given her the drug to keep her asleep, should she wake up, and have marked the area they are going to make an incision in.

Katie, the nurse, makes the first move in the operation. As blood is pumping through the drip, and into Becky's blood stream, the bullet is removed.

Becky is still unconscious, but the nurses say this is because the drug is still having effect.

They bandage Becky's wound and call the operation a success. One nurse stands admiring the size of the bullet.

It's so big, it's a surprise the operation worked without something going wrong.

Katie walks out the operating theatre and walks to Michael's room. She knocks on the door, and hears a faint "come in" from the inside.

She opens the door and smiles sympathetically at his teary face.

"Mr. Jackson," she says quietly. "The operation was a success, the bullet has been removed, and the patient is asleep. The drugs should wear off anytime in the next couple hours."

To this, Michael leaps up with a smile.

"She's going to be ok?" he asks in excitement. Katie smiles at his happiness.

"Yes. She should be ok. Just give her time to heal," she says. Michael smiles.

"Why, I could hug you right now! Thank you so much, Katie. What you have done for me will never be forgotten!" he grins.

Then the thought comes creeping back.

The thought that'll haunt him forever.

Rachel is still walking round, a sick woman who attempted murder.