Michaelishious - Vol. 2020

Dec. 7th: The lonely ghost (Pt. 3)

Author's note:

This imagine is based on two chapters with the same title from last year's calendar. I suggest that you read those first to get the whole picture.

🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄

I couldn't get him out of my mind. My colleagues at work frowned, and my boss yelled at me because I constantly zoned out a stared into the empty air. But I just couldn't help it. I hadn't told anything to Tess and TJ. What was there to tell anyway? How would anyone believe me if I told them that I had sex with a ghost? Heck, I hardly believed it myself.

Maybe it was a dream? Probably, since neither TJ or Tess had mentioned that night with a single word. Still, I couldn't ignore the fact that my favorite bra was missing.

Michael Jackson - the bra snitcher? Naw. Highly unlikely. I'd probably just misplaced it somewhere, and it would reappear and make me feel stupid for forgetting where it was.

I'd done my research and went to the library to search up everything I could find out about him and the history of the manor, and it was captivating to say at least. Unfortunately, the hotel business before Mr. Jackson bought the place wasn't. But after he moved in it was like the whole atmosphere changed. From the constant unpersonal exchange of people wandering in and out, like it had been since the manor was built in 1856, it turned into a beautiful home unlike anything anyone had seen. There were a lot of people visiting then as well, but it was for one purpose only; to have fun. And since we were talking about carousels, bumping cars, ferris wheels and shooting boxes to win teddy bears-kind of fun, the visitors were mostly children. The place was literally a fountain of happiness and love.

Until jealous people started spreading rumors.

Then everything changed. Mr. Jackson tried to keep up with everything for as long as he could, even though it ruined him both health wise, economically and emotionally. But he didn't care, because he did it out of love and the need to share what he had with others.

The day came when those rumors won. The first knife had stabbed his heart. He was labeled as an outsider. He wasn't like them. Some even said he was a monster. All because he had a big heart. And when the manor closed its gates for the last time, the doors to his heart closed as well.

I'd spend a few days trying to digest all of this information. I couldn't deny it anymore. I felt intrigued and at the same time really, really sad. And the fact that he died alone with no one to love him, was nothing else but heartbreaking.

Sleep didn't come easily these days. No matter how tired I was, I kept tossing around, trying to get my mind off this sad story about such an amazing but misunderstood man. Eventually, one night I'd had enough.

I drove the twenty minutes it took until I could park the car on the same spot we'd parked TJ's van, and I got out with a flashlight in my hand. And just like last time, I was scared to my bones just at the thought of going in there in the middle of the night. It didn't help that I could barely see the old building because of the overgrown vegetation. It looked emptier now, with its gaping, black windows and run down facade. It was like it had collapsed inwardly.

I climbed through the hole in the fence and tried to find my way through the jungle that once had been a beautiful garden, judging by the many pictures I'd seen at the library. It wasn't very pretty now, I could tell you that. But I managed to get to the front door.

What should I do? Should I ring the old fashioned doorbell? Should I knock? I was certainly not going to sneak in through the window like last time. But I didn't have to. The door opened by itself, and I reluctantly stepped inside.