Forever│Michael Jackson

7. I'll Be There

Wednesday, October 21, 1970

Madeline

Taking slow steps up the few stairs of my front porch, I stared despondently at my black shoes. While watching the darkness of my shoes travel across the pale concrete, I released a slow sigh as my heart remained drenched with gloom—which I had been suffering from since the moment I woke up this morning.

It was my birthday. Today, I was ten. I wasn't feeling much happiness, however, because I was overcome with grief.

I was missing my best friend more than ever today. He'd gone on tour with his brothers almost three weeks ago, but he'd only been able to call me a few times since then. I went from spending almost every day with him for months to only being able to hear his voice through a phone every week or so, and I was having much trouble adjusting to his absence. When I had first met him, all the loneliness I'd suffered from beforehand had vanished from thin air. However, now that we were apart, that loneliness had crept up on me again, and I was caught in its painful grip.

I missed seeing his contagious, radiant smile light up his face. I missed hearing his loud, elated laughter whenever we got ourselves into mischief. I missed seeing his doe brown eyes twinkle like the stars above, and I missed hearing his voice. I missed him.

He was my other half, and the pain I felt being separated from him was unbearable. I attempted to remind myself that we had forever together, as we had vowed for our friendship to be everlasting, but I still struggled with him being gone. That night, after we'd made our pact underneath the stars, our connection had grown to unparalleled heights, which just made separating far more painful for us.

I wished I could spend my birthday with him. However, I knew that he was doing just what he was born to do: Perform. The Jackson 5 had just released their new album last month, and as a result, thousands of people were waiting to see him dazzle the stage. I understood that. I knew that this was a stepping stone towards him growing as a bigger and better artist and performer as well, which were dreams of his. I missed him, but I knew that he was demanded by the world. Because of that, I was so proud of him. He was spreading so much happiness, and there wasn't much better than that.

I just had to be patient. I knew that I just had to get used to his unfamiliar life of being a famous artist, which would happen with time. I hoped.

When I reached the entrance to my house, I twisted the black door knob before pushing the brown door open. I was just getting home from school after Grammie had picked me up, and as I stepped inside, she trailed not far behind me. After leaving the door open for her, I peeked into the living room that was to the left of me, and my eyes landed on my father, who was sitting on his navy-blue couch chair while reading the Los Angeles Times. To his right was a tan radio, which the voices of the Temptations were gravitating through, that was sitting on a small wooden table.

"Segregation, determination, demonstration, integration. Aggravation, humiliation, obligation to our nation," sang the Temps. "Ball of confusion! That's what the world is today! Hey, hey..."

I was quick to smile, wiping away my gloominess, as I hadn't anticipated seeing him home this early because of how much he worked. "Daddy?" I called.

As the music remained filling the air in a soft manner, he lowered his newspaper from covering his face. When his gaze met mine, he grinned. "There she is!" he called, and he set his now-folded newspaper beside the radio. Then, he stood to his feet.

Though I was missing Mike with all of me, I was elated to see my father home; I was needing him more than ever. Smiling, I set my lunchbox and school folders onto the hardwood floor before taking off towards him. I jumped into his arms. As he held me close, I shut my eyes as I rested my head on his shoulder. "You're home," I said softly.