Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter Seventeen - Something Or Nothing

Chapter seventeen – Something Or Nothing

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A silence takes place between us as Michael continues to fiddle with my hair. It's really helping me to calm down, feeling the way he does it; thinking about mom really got me worked up. I know it's okay to cry for a lost loved one, but if I keep it all bottled up for too long, it'll all come back to haunt me at some point ... like it just did.

My eyes wander across the floor in the room, at all the paper and pens that are here, there and everywhere, before looking sideways (lying down, the ceiling is sideways to my eyes), to see the vase on the mantle. Every time I take the time to remember where it came from, it breaks my heart.

Michael then breaks the silence, "So ... when did your mother get you that?" he asks, referring to the vase. "It's a very pretty vase."

I clear my throat, as it feels a little congested from when I was crying, "She got me it last Christmas. That was ... about a month – less than that – before she left us. Every time I look at it, it just kind of breaks my heart all over again ... "

"It seems like a special vase though. The colours are really beautiful."

A tear rolls down my cheek, which Michael makes quick work of drying away with his thumb, "Yeah. The blue is there because that was Andre's favourite colour. The lilac colour was my colour; the baby pink was mom's ... and then dad liked the cream colour. Each of our favourite colours went into it, and they all match each other so good ... " I explain.

He gives a small smile, "All your favourite colours ... so it was specially made for you?" He looks up at the vase himself, taking in every little detail that is featured on it.

"Yeah, it was. It was made by the boss at the pottery place not far from here ... he was a good friend of mother's, so made it for her because she wanted to get me something for Christmas."

"The boss of the pottery place ... I think I know the pottery place; about a half hour from here – walking?" He cocks an eyebrow.

"That's the one. Man, I haven't been there for years. The last time I went was when I was ... I think, twelve, thirteen; one of my old friends Tanisha had a birthday party there, and we all made little pots of our own. It was a good day, and a lot of fun, I guess."

He chuckles a little, "Ah, I've been there too. I think the last time I went was ... when I was about twenty. It was mine and Eleanor's first anniversary together, and I needed to get her a present. That's where I got it from ... but it seemed to be a waste of money, now I think about it."

"Hmm," I give a slight look of sympathy. There's a strong urge inside of me to ask about Eleanor a little more, so I do, "What was your relationship like with her?"

He narrows his eyes, trying to think back to that time, "Well ... at the time, it was perfect. Like ... she was everything I ever wanted – smart, pretty, funny, adorable ... and she was great at cuddles. I remember during the winter, she would snuggle close to me on the sofa, and all we'd do was ... well, kiss. We would devote hours to just kissing one another; proving how much we cared for one another – or, how much I cared. She obviously didn't really care for me the way I cared for her."

"Aww," I sigh. Then, my curiosity gets the better of me, "Do you think you would still be with her, if she hadn't cheated?" I question.

He inhales deeply, "Ooh, that's difficult to say. At the time, she was my absolute world ... everything to me. But I guess she would've eventually gotten bored of me, or maybe she would have broken up with me once my Vitiligo developed more—"