|
PG-13
Sept 19, 2009 0:18:51 GMT -5
Post by Collide on Sept 19, 2009 0:18:51 GMT -5
[bI started writing this what-if fic a couple of days ago in my mind. This is just the prologue. The story is set June 28, 2009
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone in this story except the minor characters I create in the hospital setting, etc.
Summary: June 25, 2009 has a different ending, that's all I can say...
Please leave feedback, I have completed this story and will post one chapter a day...
COLLIDE By: Ahenobarbi
Prologue:
“Okay, Michael you ready?” Those were the last words he remembered hearing before waking up in the Ronald Reagan Medical Center in Los Angeles. After his nightly dosage of Diprivan he’d slipped into that wonderful and magical place where his trials and tribulations did not exist. The second star to the right and straight on til morning; that was the place where he belonged. He could be Peter Pan, King of his domain and the leader of the Lost Boys. No one ever said ‘Michael you need to grow up!’ when he was in that dreamy realm. The moment he stepped foot on that plain of imagination, time stood still and children were children forever. The Lost Boys…Michael didn’t think anyone else realized how significant Peter Pan was to those who followed him. They didn’t understand the weight of responsibility that lay on that brave boy’s shoulders. Pan had an adversary who seemed relentless in his torment of him for no other reason than because he liked to cause havoc in Pan’s world. Michael could relate to that, Hook was all around him in the chilling reality that he was forced to face on a daily basis. He found solace in protecting his friends from the evil that lived along side them. The Lost Boys were boys without families and seemingly without hope. But Pan united them, Tootles, Slightly, Nibs, Curly, and the twins; Peter found them alone and without care so he whisked them away to his shelter, a place where no one could harm them ever again. A land where nothing was impossible if you believed hard enough… a place called, 'Neverland'.
Try as he might, Peter couldn’t keep the Lost Boys children forever. They grew up, they left Peter and Neverland…Peter was alone, again. Well, not exactly he had Tinker Bell who Michael always likened to Liz. Yes, Liz was his little ‘Tink’, she was feisty but loveable, his biggest advocate and constant companion. They’d shared many an adventure and weathered quite a few storms against Hook. Through it all Tink had come through for him and provided light in the darkness of his psyche. He had the ability to do anything he wanted to do, he could fly over the length of Neverland, bring the wonders of his mind into existence with a single thought…but still there was that haunting feeling. Peter knew; Michael knew the truth about the real world. The real world was inescapable; there was no permanent way out of returning to what they abhorred. Sooner or later they would have to wake up from their slumber, they would have to grow up; and that was something they both feared…][/b]
|
|
|
PG-13
Sept 20, 2009 2:00:11 GMT -5
Post by ahenobarbi on Sept 20, 2009 2:00:11 GMT -5
CHAPTER ONE, Part 1
Neverland was wiped away in a single afternoon, destroyed beyond recognition…Hook had won. Peter had failed in his quest for eternal youth. He’d let his guard down and the Pirates had vanquished his magical home and trampled over every wonderful memory that he had experienced in that place. Gone was the sound of childish laughter and merriment; only to be replaced with the stomping of boots and the taunting voices of his assailants. With pleasure Hook degraded and humiliated Pan. His sword was smashed to a million pieces before his very eyes, his trademark green garments were ripped from his back; and he was ejected from creative wonder. Now mentally destitute and driven from his beautiful Neverland, Peter bravely turned his gaze and thoughts from what had been to what could be. For a time he was determined to never look back on the tragedy that had become his life; but soon he turned his sights to anger and hatred for that imaginary land. It was fictitious; it never existed except in his mind. He had lied to himself; Neverland was always in his mind, it was nothing more than a simple hope, a dream of a better life. It was this reality that had brought him out of the coma. His vision was blurry at first and then slowly came into focus. He hadn’t been quite sure where he was until he heard an all too familiar beeping sound. It was that same beeping sound that he heard when he woke up at the hospital in New York when Lisa…no, he wasn’t going to think about her. He squinted his eyes and looked around the room. He was alone, that in itself was no surprise. Michael had gotten use to being alone over the years. He noticed the wires and I.V.’s that seemed to be connected to every part of his upper body. He tried to move but the pain in his chest and abdomen was too much to bear. Lifting his head was a lost cause as well, a wave of dizziness over took him and his head fell back against a pillow. ‘How the hell did I get here?’ He asked himself. A thousand questions began to run through his mind. He had only been asleep for a few hours, hadn’t he? Why was he in the hospital? Was he still in L.A? Where was Murray, where were his children? The door to his room was to the right and he could see tiny shadows of feet walking back and forth and he heard chatter that only came through as murmurings. Looking ahead of him was an array of ‘Get Well’ cards and pictures taped to the wall. There was a group of flowers to his left sitting in front of a lone window. It looked like dusk or just before sunrise, Michael couldn’t get a fix on time, his mind was still foggy. That’s what he hated about Diprivan, it was sometimes so hard to wake up, and he’d get caught between sleep and consciousness. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang and the swift opening of the door. A man came barreling through in a panic. All Michael could do was lay there and watch as the overzealous man raised his Canon camera and began to take pictures. The flashes from the camera blinded him, he could find no strength to raise his hand and block the flashes or the shots of him in such a vulnerable state. “Get him!” Someone yelled just outside the door. In an instant two men who were dressed in black scrubs tackled the cameraman to the floor. The camera fell just out of his reach about a foot in front of the melee and the man reached for it but was beat to the punch by a nurse who had come running in after the two orderly’s. “How dare you, what the hell is wrong with you people?” She started to turn the camera over in her hands searching for the film compartment. “Get him up Max.” In one quick swoop the orderly’s had hoisted the intruder up and continued to hold him. “Hey give it back, that’s my property!” The man tried in vain to wrench himself free of his captors. “This is a private room and you have no right in here.” She was still examining the camera when the cameraman spoke again. “Its digital sweet heart, it doesn’t require film.” The man smiled coyly as if he’d won. “Oh, thanks for telling me.” Without hesitation she threw the camera down hard against the floor. Michael wanted to laugh but no reaction came except from a very perturbed photographer. “You *****, you’re gonna pay for that! I’ll sue this entire hospital, that’s my property!” “Get him out of here!” The nurse was unfazed by the threat and smirked as the orderly’s carried the man out. “Moron.” She bent down to start picking up the pieces that had broken off of the camera. Michael sucked in a hard breath in an effort to speak but the breathing tubes in his nose caused him to gag and go into a painful coughing fit. Alarms started to go off and the nurse snapped to attention. “Oh my God, I need some help in here!” She shouted as she rushed to her patient’s side. Michael’s eyes shut tight against his will and he could no longer see what was going on around him. He heard panicked voices shouting orders to one another and frantic hands grabbing at the tubes and I.V’s on his body. “He’s going into shock…” darkness suddenly enveloped his being and all sound ceased. Random images flowed through his mind: he and his brothers on stage at Ed Sullivan show, his father whipping him for missing a dance step; the Pepsi ordeal, the allegations, every dramatic moment in his short life. Despair began to overtake him; but then a ray of hope broke through the worst of memories…actually it was three rays of hope. His children’s births, every one of them, he could see them smiling and having fun on birthdays, Christmas and casual outings. Their voices in unison saying ever so gently, ‘I love you daddy’, that played over and over in his mind’s eye, drowning out the terribleness of his life without them. No, he wouldn’t let them down; he had to fight this crushing darkness. Suddenly something came to him, something that his mother had taught him when he was a boy. ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…what was the rest of it? The shadow of death…I will fear no evil for…for…thou art with me…’ “Clear!” Michael felt his body jolt upwards and air return to his lungs. Sound had returned and for the first time in a long time he felt completely serene.
****
“You’re a lucky man Mr. Jackson. You should be taking a stroll down the streets of gold right now; God must have taken a liking to you.” Dr. Ross stood at the foot of his bed and stared down at a metal clip board that he had in hand. Dr. Ross had come in shortly after he had been resuscitated and stabilized. “There are not many people who can take in as much medication as you did and live to tell about it.” “Live…” Michael murmured, his throat was still sore from that coughing fit he had. “Yes, live. You will live at least today anyway. If you keep going on like this your luck is going to run out very soon!” He began writing something on his clipboard and then started to examine what seemed like a horde of machines that surrounded Michael’s bed. “Where, where are my kids?” Michael’s voice came out in a raspy whisper. “They were here earlier, in the waiting room with some of your family members. No one is allowed back here for now. You don’t need to overly exert yourself. But if all goes well we’ll be able to move you to a less restricted part of the hospital as early as tomorrow evening.” “I…need to see my…kids.” Michael insisted and again made the mistake of lifting his head. With a grunt his head fell back, defeated. “You see, no exertion is what I said. Please Mr. Jackson you will only do more harm to yourself if you don’t listen to me.” Lisa was still reeling from the shock of what she had heard on the news three days before. Michael had been pronounced dead and then just an hour later that report was reversed to Michael Jackson was in critical condition after a near fatal heart attack. Her world had stopped in that moment, the thought of losing Michael the same way she had lost her father…it was more than she could bear. For the last three days she had set up a vigil in front of the television in her den refusing to get up for anything except to use the restroom. She hardly noticed that she hadn’t eaten anything since before the news came. She knew her husband was worried about her but he respected her space and stepped back and let her do what she needed to do. That was one of the things that had drawn Lisa to her current husband, his ability to let her be herself. He also didn’t seem to mind that stigma of being Mr. Lisa Marie Presley. He was completely secure in his less than dominant celebrity status. Michael Lockwood had become the rock in her world of never-ending dissatisfaction. After three failed marriages and other non-prosperous relationships she had found someone who would just relax and go with the flow of life. It was also a plus that he too embraced the teachings of Scientology and to top it all off, her mother loved him. They had a comfortable life and two beautiful little girls; but still something was missing; that proverbial spark that ignites the flames of love. It sounded cheesy but that was the best way she could describe it to herself. She hadn’t felt that spark in years. She sat in the fetal position on a black leather couch clutching at a throw pillow. There were no new developments in the drama that surrounded the hospital where Michael was battling for his life. The house phone had been ringing off the hook all day. Reporters and news reps had been calling to get her reaction. But ironically the only call that annoyed her was that of her mother. Priscilla had been quick to call and urge her daughter to refrain from trying to contact Michael or his family as Lisa often did when something bad happened to Michael. After their divorce thirteen years before, Lisa always remained very concerned for Michael and his well being. ‘This is their problem, stay out of it’, Priscilla had said. Being a born rebel Lisa promptly dismissed her mother’s warnings and told her that she had every intention of contacting the Jackson’s. She had tried but there was absolutely no way to get through to anyone in the family. Janet’s reps refused any calls that did not come from immediate family. She couldn’t help but think of when she herself was immediate family to Michael. She’d fought the urge to jump on the nearest plane bound for L.A. several times over the last hour. But what good would that do anyway except create Media frenzy and give way to new rumors. She could just see the tabloid headlines now, ‘Lisa Marie rushes to be at Jackson’s side’. ‘Lisa Marie still very much in love with Jackson’, the list of titles could go on and on. No, she should stay right there in her home and hope for the best.
***
It had been a few hours since the doctors had updated the family on Michael’s status and they were all sitting on pins and needles. Catherine Jackson sat vigilant in a corner near a window. Her eyes never left the door leading out of the private waiting room. Rebe sat close to her mother on the sofa with a comforting arm around her shoulders. The rest of the Jackson siblings were either sitting in chairs or standing against walls while their father Joe paced back and forth in the middle of the room. To a person who didn’t know Joseph, he looked to be casually taking a turn about in the room without a care in the world. His stone resolve was still firmly in place after all these years and nothing, not even this near tragedy would break it. “What time is it?” Jermaine who had been thumbing through a magazine asked. “It’s almost eight-thirty.” Latoya glanced at her watch. “Damn it, why won’t they tell us something, it’s been a while!” Janet stood and went to stand at the waiting room door. She could see doctors, orderly’s, and nurses all going about their business. “I’m sure they will update us when there is something new to report Dunk.” Janet’s head snapped around and she glared at Jermaine. That knick name had been coined for her by Michael and she forbade anyone but him to call her that. Usually she would have retorted with a snide remark or hurled some object at her older brother’s head; but this was neither the time nor the place for such sibling debauchery. She took a deep breath and turned back towards the door. “I’m going to the cafeteria, does anyone want anything?” Tito stood and looked around at his family. “Could you bring me bottled water?” Rebe yawned and put a hand on her mother’s lap. “Yeah.” Tito started to leave. “I’ll go with you.” Marlin got up and followed. Both men were stopped when the waiting room door opened. “Dr. Ross, is there something wrong?” Janet braced herself for the worst. The rest of the family immediately huddled together in front of the doctor. “Actually no, Michael is awake.” Ross smiled and put an assuring hand on Janet’s shoulder. A sigh of relief went up out of the midst. “Can we see him?” Catherine stepped forward. “Not yet, he’s still not completely out of the clear. I don’t want him to over exert himself.” “When will we be able to see him?” Catherine was overjoyed that her son was awake but to still be so near and yet so far away from Michael was tearing her apart. She had to see her son with her own eyes to make sure he was indeed okay. “As early as tomorrow evening, if everything goes well we can move him to a less secure part of the hospital and he will be able to receive visitors. I just want to keep him under close observation for now.” “Do you know what caused the heart attack?” Jackie asked from the back of the group. “We are waiting on the rest of the toxicology results to come back. I can discuss it further then.” Dr. Ross finished, he had an idea of what had triggered the heart attack but until his patient was more coherent and the tests were back he would not make any confirmations yet. “Would you tell him we’re all here and that we love him?” A new batch of tears started to flow from the elderly woman who had been the glue that held her family of eleven together for years. Dr. Ross smile warmly and replied, “Of course.” *** Paris Jackson had been staring at the same page in her Jane Austen novel for what seemed like forever. She couldn’t get pass the first line; her mind always went back to her poor daddy. He was supposed to be with her and her brothers always and forever, he’d promised them that. She was less than happy about being forced to leave the hospital earlier that day. She’d begged her aunts and uncles to let her stay but they wouldn’t hear of it. They said that their daddy would want them to go home and get some rest. But Paris knew otherwise, her daddy would want her with him, Prince and Blanket too. “What are you doing?” Her younger brother’s voice broke through her thoughts. Blanket was dressed in his favorite Star Wars pajamas and his hair had been neatly tied back out of his face. Her brothers and cousins had gathered in the family room to watch a movie but Paris had opted for quiet solitude in her bedroom. “Nothing really, where is Prince?” “Him, Jermajesty, and everybody else fell asleep watching Aladdin.” “It’s he, not him Blanket.” Paris corrected her brother’s grammar. She stretched in the wooden chair that she sat in, closed her book, and then placed it on the desk beside her. “When is daddy coming back, he said that we could go to Disneyland?” The seriousness of their father’s stay at the hospital was unknown to Blanket. Marlon had told him that his daddy was a little under the weather and that he would be home soon. He’d tried that same lie with Prince and Paris but they were old enough to realize that there was something seriously wrong. The craziness of the morning when the ambulance had come and taken their father away on a stretcher was still fresh in Paris’ mind. She had screamed, ‘Daddy, daddy, what’s wrong with my daddy?’ No one had answered her then and she had not seen her father since that day. “Soon Blanket, when he’s better.” Paris stood and walked over to her bed to lie down. This had been her Aunt Janet’s room and she had chosen it for that reason. Janet was her favorite aunt and she simply adored her. Blanket followed her to the bed and sat on the edge. “Where am I gonna sleep?” He looked around the room and yawned. “Go sleep in Uncle Marlon’s old room.” “Alone?” “Yes alone.” Paris closed her eyes and yawned. “But I’ve never slept in a room all by myself.” “Wake up Prince and tell him to go with you.” “He gets upset when I wake him up.” “Then get Jermajesty or Jaffar.” Paris opened her eyes and stared at the boy who was already taking off his flip-flops. “Can’t I just stay here?” Blanket wiped a hand across his tired eyes and looked on at his sister. “Pariis…” Blanket laid down any way, “Move over.” He grumbled as he pushed her shoulder. Paris sighed and took a position on the other side of the bed. There was no point in arguing with her brother, he usually won their verbal battles for the most part. Blanket was strong willed, he knew what he wanted and how he wanted to do things just like their dad. With one last sigh she closed her eyes and prayed for her daddy to come home very soon.
|
|
|
PG-13
Sept 22, 2009 9:37:13 GMT -5
Post by ahenobarbi on Sept 22, 2009 9:37:13 GMT -5
June 25, 2009 --- New Jersey
Brian Temple could only roll his eyes at his friend Marty when he called and told him that Michael Jackson had died. There was always some new story about Michael in the news; a year couldn’t pass without Michael Jackson’s name being mixed up in some outrageous scandal. His old friend always was a magnet for trouble. Brian blasted his friend for calling him with such idiocy and hung up on him. It wasn’t until a few minutes after the fact when Brian had turned on the television in his bedroom that he saw the awful headline, ‘Michael Jackson dead at 50.’ He flipped through station after station and the same headline was posted. MTV was playing his videos and pictures of fans crying outside of an LA hospital were plastered on every other station. ‘This couldn’t be happening, why him?’ His chest began to hurt and he collapsed on his bed and put his head in his lap. The news correspondent talked on about the 911 call and what a terrible tragedy this all was. “More than you know!” Brian sobbed; it had been years since he cried for anything. He suddenly felt the uncontrollable need, an urge to destroy something, anything. In an instant he was on his feet and grabbed a baseball bat from beside his closet door. He looked around the room and then fixed his gaze on the television; in two strides he was in front of the contraption and took one hard swing at it. The appliance fell crashing to the ground. After Brian was done destroying windows, pictures, mirrors, anything that would shatter into millions of pieces he fell in a pathetic heap on the ground crying violently. His wails would have been loud enough to attract someone else if he weren’t alone in his house. Brian stayed there in that spot for nearly thirty minutes before a thought came to him…he couldn’t do this anymore! He couldn’t live, not while Michael was dead! He didn’t want to live, he had wanted to end his existence for some time; and now he had a good reason for doing it! Brian picked himself up off of the floor and went to the nightstand beside his bed. He sat down; hot tear drops stung his face as they continued to flow out of his swollen eye lids. Slowly he opened the drawer and stared at what he believed was his rightful fate. He grabbed the wooden handle of his 357 Magnum and ran the index finger of his right hand across the steel barrel. This moment had been a long time coming and the day was finally here. He was only twenty-nine years old; he had hardly begun to live life. But in reality his life had ended long ago. He took a couple of deep breaths and pointed the gun barrel at his heart. He made no last minute prayers or pleas to God; he knew God had no use for the likes of him. Brian Temple closed his eyes and pulled the trigger…
***
June 29 --- 8:40 pm.
“You sure do know how to get the world to stand on its toes big brother!” Janet Jackson tried to joke as she stood at her brother’s bedside and absent mindedly played with the top end-folds of the teal blanket that lay across Michael. Though he still had trouble keeping his eyes open from time to time he was completely conscious and aware of what was going on around him. He'd been excited that Janet had finally come. He'd been wanting to see her all day, she was always the one who seemed to care the most about him; after mother of course. “Yeah, you know me girl…I always strive for the...unexpected.” “You gave us quite a scare for a while. Michael what’s going on?” “Didn’t Dr. Ross tell you already?” “He told us that you had nothing but medication in your stomach and something called Diprivan, but that’s not what I meant. What’s going on with you?” Janet needed answers from Michael and she was determined to get them. Janet had spent the early part of her day tying up a few loose ends in her business dealings. She’d wanted to wait for the rest of the family to leave before she broached the subject. Like Michael she was uncomfortable being around the family save her mother for long periods of time. Each of their siblings had been in to give some encouraging words earlier before being ushered out so Michael could rest. Joseph and Katherine had been in too and spent an hour with Michael before they left; now it was Janet’s turn. “I’m fine, Dunk.” This time that name brought a smirk to her face but it quickly faded away. “You’re not fine when you’re pumping yourself full of medication, I read up on Diprivan. Did you know it is only supposed to be used in a hospital setting? It’s that dangerous!” “If you came here to give me a lecture…” Michael was not in the mood for yet another person interfering in his personal life. No one knew what he had to suffer physically and emotionally on a daily basis. It was humiliating enough being here without his usual make-up to hide the effects of Vitaligo and Lupus. “I’m not trying to lecture you Mike.” Janet should have known her brother would put up a fight. “It sounds like it, look girl can’t we just talk about something else? How is your movie comin along?” Michael smiled weakly and took her much smaller hand in his. “It’s going well, you’ll still be my escort to the premier right?” Janet decided to go along with Michael’s wishes to drop the subject; for now anyway. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “Oh, hello,” came the voice of a nurse who’d just entered the room. “I’m just going to take your vitals Mr. Jackson.” The petit woman smiled at brother and sister and then went about her job. “Leslie I told you, you can call me Michael.” Michael turned to smile at the woman who had been especially assigned to him. Apparently she was the most skilled of the nursing staff there. Michael had taken a natural liking to her, partly because of her cultural background. He always did have a thing for Indian women. “And I told you that it is only appropriate to address you by your surname in this enviroment.” Leslie smirked and continued to relay the data from the machines to her clipboard pad.
“Why are you being difficult?” Michael joked. “I could ask you the same thing.” She glanced at Michael who was staring at her with such fondness. This exchange did not go unnoticed by Janet. Michael was obviously trying to flirt with his nurse but the woman didn’t seem to be returning the gesture. “Okay all done, I will be back in half an hour to change your IV.” Leslie turned and headed for the door and left without another word or glance. Michael still had that fondness in his eyes when Janet looked at him. “Michael, seriously?” Janet rolled her eyes. “What?” “What was that?” Janet nodded at the door. “What was what?” He feigned innocence and quickly changed the subject, “Look, I want you to bring my kids here tomorrow.” “Yeah, I’ll bring them in the morning. They can’t wait to see you.” “I can’t wait to see them, I miss them so much!” Michael sighed. “I guess I’ll leave now, I love you big brother!” Janet bent down and hugged Michael carefully; out of fear that she might hurt him, he was still in some pain from his ordeal. “I love you more,” was his reply.
***
He was still alive regretfully; the damned gun had misfired and only left him with a severely burned right hand. He’d lied to his father about what happened when he showed up at the emergency room. Brian told him what he had told the doctors, that he was just wiping the gun down and it just misfired. The doctors seemed to believe him but his father was skeptical considering the news that he heard over his car radio. When the ER doctor left them alone in the examining room his father wasted no time in blurting out his theory on his son’s injury. “You did this on purpose didn’t you, because of him!?” It was hard to control his anger but the older man kept a composed manner as he glared down at his son lying on the bed. “Why would you think that?” “It would have been a shame if you had killed yourself, because the *******’s still alive.” Brian’s head shot up hopefully. “What?” “Yeah, he’s still here among the normal inhabitants of Earth.” “You’re lying!” Brian looked away; crushed by his father’s inability to show even an ounce of compassion for what he was going through, what Michael went through. “Why would I lie about that, the world would be a far better place without him in my opinion.” “I want to call mom.” Brian sniffed and wiped away the new tears that fell from his eyes. “After all this time, why?” Brian had been getting more than irritating lately and more subdued as the years passed. “I just want to…I miss her and Lily.” “Do whatever you want, I have to go. I have patients waiting, time is money.” The man turned to head out of the room entrance. “It was always about money with you, wasn’t it dad?” Brian could feel a deep hatred for the man who stood before him welling up in his soul. The man glanced back at his son and grunted, “Make sure you don’t have any more accidents…Jordy.”
***
June 29
“Lisa, seriously, let me in!” Priscilla Presley had hopped on a plane just that morning in a panic. She was damned if she was going to let Michael Jackson ruin her daughters happiness with his never-ending personal problems. She couldn’t understand why her daughter was so fixated on her ex-husband. As far as she was concerned he daughter had finally married the right man; Michael Lockwood was perfect for Lisa.
“Mom, I’m not in the mood right now.” Lisa lay on her sofa with her right arm draped across her forehead. “He’s alive; there is no reason to keep your-self locked up in there. Your family needs you right now. What about Finley and Harper, you can’t stay in there forever!? Lisa open the door!” There were a few moments of silence before the door un-locked and Lisa slowly cracked open the door and glared at her mother. “Are you going to let me in?” Reluctantly Lisa open the door enough for her mother to slip through then she returned to her former position on the couch. Priscilla noticed that there was a box of Kleenex on the ground and the television was on CNN, they were still reporting news on Jackson after three days. Everywhere she went someone was talking about the man, there was no way to avoid hearing about his stay at the hospital. It was like a damn soap opera! Now the authorities were searching for Jackson's live-in doctor who had gone missing after Michael was rushed to the hospital. “Lisa how long are you going to do this?” “Do what?” “You’re neglecting your family, how do you think your husband feels right now? You ‘re in here mourning for a man who is still alive and apparently recovering just fine.” “I don’t expect you to understand what I’m feeling.” Lisa sounded resentful. “This is just ridiculous, the way you’re behaving. One would think you were still in love with him.” When her daughter didn’t respond immediately to deny what she had said, she became worried. “Lisa…Lisa…” Still no answer, Priscilla pressed her lips together in a thin line and ran a hand through her hair. Why wasn’t she surprised? Her daughter had quite a pattern of being fickle where her love life was concerned. “I don’t believe this.” Priscilla started again. “Mom, please leave.” Lisa turned so that she faced the back of the sofa. “You are going to ruin the best thing that ever happened to you for…” “It was you…you talked me into leaving him.” Lisa accused, still refusing to look at her mother. She had tried for the last five years to be indifferent to all things concerning her second husband and she thought she had been doing a good job of it. But all of those old feelings were back and she could no longer fight them.
“You’re blaming me for your mistake; you should have never married him! He was using you!” “We were together before that, we’d been together for a while before that, how could he have been using me?” Her voice quivered, she was near tears again. “I’m not going to rehash the past with you, he had problems already. You tried to help him and what happened, you got physically sick! You can’t save him any more than I could save…” Priscilla’s voice trailed off and she looked up at the ceiling trying not to remember the man who had once been her entire life, her reason for living. She had a new reason for living now, Lisa Marie. When she looked back to the sofa she found that her daughter was staring at her rather strangely. “He told me that he was afraid that he would end up like daddy.” “What?” The older woman was suddenly lost. “It was just a month or two after we got married, we were talking about life in general; and he said that he was afraid that he would end up like him.” Her resolve broke with this last and she burst into tears. Priscilla was at her side in an instant to comfort her. “Hmmm, all the more reason to let this obsession with Michael Jackson go, Lisa. He is on a dangerous path and sooner or later he won’t be so lucky. I don’t want you caught up in his drama!” “I miss daddy!” The younger woman melted in her mother’s arms. Priscilla patted her daughters back lovingly and held her as she cried.
|
|
|
PG-13
Sept 29, 2019 18:50:53 GMT -5
Post by Kelavargo on Sept 29, 2019 18:50:53 GMT -5
|
|