Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter forty-five - Daddy's Girl

Chapter forty-five – Daddy's Girl

Warning: somewhat graphic detail in this chapter. Sensitive readers may need to be aware.

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How do you know when you're scared out of your mind? Is it how you act? How quickly you speak? Your lack of concentration on anything else but your fear? Or maybe it's how quickly your heart beats.

My heart is beating faster than I've ever known it to beat before. The horrible feeling of sickness has invaded my stomach. My mind is whirling. I'm so lightheaded. I feel numb.

"Daddy ... Are you okay?" I mutter softly, bringing my head close to his. My hands cup his face gently, as I look into his eyes.

He's growing weaker by the second. His lips are parted to breathe, but not much air is passing in and out of his mouth. His short, sharp breaths are the only thing audible in the room. His eyes aren't even fixed on me; they're looking straight ahead.

"Daddy? ... " I repeat, desperation causing me to tear up.

His eyes slowly move upwards, looking into mine. His pupils and irises are so vacant; so shallow. There's no glint in them at all. They're simply glazed-over and tired-looking.

This explains why he sounded so relaxed on the phone.

"Daddy ... are you okay?" I repeat once more. My head whips up, as I look at Michael. "Michael, get me a glass of water please," I demand quickly.

Michael nods, running from the room. Moments later, he returns holding the glass, and passes it to me. As I take it from his hands, I look down at father, before parting his lips a little further, and bringing the rim of the glass to his lips.

"Drink this, dad." As I tip the glass of water, I realise how dry his lips are. They have no moisture on them at all. "That's good. Good job, daddy." Regret fills me as I say the next words, but I have no choice. "Okay, you're not going to like this, but you have to bring the pills back up; so they're out of your system. They could be dangerous."

At this, he doesn't seem to respond. He's too relaxed as a result of whatever drugs he's taken. How am I meant to make him regurgitate? It's a terrible thing to have to do, but if it doesn't happen, the end result could potentially be fatal.

"Daddy, I'm really sorry that I have to do this ... But you have to open your mouth for me." He doesn't appear to do this fully, so I lightly use my fingers to part his lips for him. "I'm really, really sorry ... " I repeat, my voice breaking. My hand takes his, as I guide his to his mouth. If I activate his gag reflex, he might bring the pills back up.

"Be careful, Angel," Michael says softly, approaching us at last. He sits the other side of father whilst I attempt to help him.

"I can't believe I've got to do this," I frown, taking a deep breath. Slowly, I guide his hand into his own mouth, not wanting my hand to spread any kind of germs, despite being clean.

Michael watches cautiously as I try to make my father regurgitate. He seems a little frightened at the possibility of seeing this sight, but he remains silent throughout the whole thing.

After a couple of minutes, I finally make dad retch, and he brings up a little bile. Whether or not I've removed any pills from his system is unknown to me, but hopefully I have. The sight is horrible for me to witness; seeing my father in such poor condition is slowly breaking my heart.

"It's okay daddy ... " I remind him, tears falling down my cheeks from the experience in enduring. "It's all completely fine ... "

Although it kills me inside, I'm forced to make him gag even more. It's better to make him sick, than risk him dying, I suppose. There's no knowing what Marco has given to him to put him in this state.