.*⌒☆━━ Jᴜsᴛ ᴀ Dʀᴇᴀᴍ ━━☆⌒*.

'King of Pop; Michael Jackson presumed dead at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, at 2:26 p.m.-- Get latest details at--'

I remember hearing the words slip off of the reporter's tongue so very easily, I found myself disbelieving the fact that my idol had so quickly and surprisingly lost his life. I had tried to flip through the many different channels, trying not to hear of the silly report, yet with each channel, I believed more and more. That's all they would talk about, he had actually died, the person I so wanted to meet had died. After that day my parents couldn't tear me from my room, I remember the painful thoughts burning through my head, scolding and imprinting within my eyes. I remember what my mother had said, how she had just shook her head and smiled gently.
"Sweetheart, my dear Annalise. He would have never known you." She would say, I only brushed off the truthful words and ignored them. I didn't know why, but I had always had this ache in my heart, my chest, whenever I heard his name. It felt as if I lost a family member, one of my own blood. My mother, tried to reason with me, my father the same, yet I pushed them away and fell into a grief of sorts.
"Sweetheart, it's unhealthy to do this. . . You didn't even know the man." My father would say, I only rolled my eyes and stood up from the table, leaving back to my room. I didn't understand why I had grieved over this man, but I did, and nobody could really stop me. Often I would find myself, muttering the lyrics to his familiar and famous songs, zoning out and becoming lost within the background music. To my parents, family, friends, it seemed as if I had an unhealthy obsession with this man. But to me, it was different. . .