Forever│Michael Jackson

6. The First Farewell

Sunday, October 4, 1970

Michael

I let out a short breath as I pedaled my bike as fast as I was able to. As I zoomed down the center of a familiar residential street, I squeezed my white handlebars with my fists, and my feet spun the bike's orange pedals in rapid circles. I stared ahead as I passed by rows of homes that lined the street, refusing to lose focus on arriving at the park that housed my best friend and I's most cherished spot. Luckily, the base of its green hills that stretched high into the sky soon entered my sight, and I sped my bike up far more.

Sunny and I had planned to meet at our magnificent tree this late morning, and I was impatient to get there. In an hour, I'd leave for the airport with my brothers and father because, in about a week, we were resuming our national tour in Boston to promote our new album, Third Album. I'd been touring since the age of five, but although I'd become used to the lonesome traveling, leaving home this time was far harder for me to do—and that was because I had to leave Sunny.

I dreaded leaving her. I spent the past three months blissfully by her side, as she had pulled me into the thrilling worlds of magic, wonder, and imagination. Though I'd been working on new music at this time, I was still able to come home to her after spending time in the studio. However, now that I was leaving to the opposite end of the country, I would be separated from her entirely, and the bridge to my lost childhood would now be severed into two.

I'd been shedding quiet tears each night this past week because of how upset I was. Sunny and I had become inseparable. It was as if I was leaving an enormous, vital part of me behind. I was thankful for the great success that my brothers and I had, but although I loved to bring our fans happiness, I was overcome with loneliness every time I ran off of the stage. I did not want to be imprisoned by my work. I wanted to be going on another thrilling adventure with my best friend underneath the stars.

Being gone, I was going to miss her birthday in a few weeks, which I was also so upset about. She was going to turn ten, and I wanted to be with her. When my twelfth birthday had rolled around back in August, my brothers and I had plans to promote our newest single, "I'll Be There." Before we'd left for the first radio station, however, Sunny had me meet her at the gates of my home. There, she'd given me a simple but meaningful cupcake that she'd baked just for me—though, she'd sworn that she was giving the treat to me "just 'cause."

Her thoughtfulness that morning had meant the whole world to me, as I tended to feel left out for not being allowed to celebrate holidays and such. I'd worn a smile the rest of the day as my brothers and I promoted. Every time I thought about how I wouldn't be able to do something special for her on her own birthday, however, my heart sank. But though I was under the authority of my father, I was still going to attempt to bring her a smile on October 21st—just as she'd done for me. I had to.

I wished, so badly, that she could tour with us. Every day, I wanted to see her golden gaze that twinkled with such contagious glee and mischief. I wanted to hear her giggles that always surrounded my heart with warmth. I wanted to see her beaming smile that mirrored the shining sun with ease. I knew that being without her every day was going to be unbearable. I hoped, so badly, that my time away from her would nonetheless fly by.

After I'd reached the sidewalk that bordered the base of the first hill, I began traveling up the concrete incline. As I hurried, I traveled up one steep green hill after another while they only continued to get taller. Ignoring the aches of my legs, however, I never slowed.

When I'd arrived at the base of the last tallest hill, I hopped off and abandoned my bike where the concrete path ended. I looked at the top of the vast hill, and upon seeing our magnificent tree, my heart soared. I took a breath before beginning to run up the hill, my white sneakers slamming against the grass as I did. When I had reached the top at last, I stopped upon seeing Sunny. She was sitting back against our tree's thick substantial trunk, hugging her knees to her chest.