My Journey To Her (Michael Jackson)

Chapter One

It's gotten worse for him. Day after day his thoughts kept him awake at night, depriving him of sleep. Pounding against his head, trying to escape.

Did he bleach his skin? Michael's thoughts ran through his head. He was black when he was younger, what happened?

Michael put his hand on his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut, practically trying to shove the dreadful thoughts away.

Seems like the famous pop singer Michael Jackson is showing more of his eccentric side.

Michael sat up from his bed and was relieved to know the night had finally drifted away. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he heard a ring from his phone.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson," a woman with a soft voice greeted, a caretaker at one of the many orphanages that Michael visits.

Michael cleared his throat, clearing every bit of raspiness in his voice, "Ah, Ms. Marshall!" he started. "And please, call me Michael," he insisted.

"Thank you, Michael," Ms. Marshall said as she let out a slight chuckle. "The kids are very pleased and excited to know that you'll be visiting us today."

Michael's cheeks reddened as he gave a gentle smile, "I hope they know that I feel the exact same way. They're the reason that I do what I do."

If all else failed, Michael turned to one of the few things that truly made him happy in life: the children.

"Of course," Ms. Marshall responded. "They've been practicing your Thriller dance all week."

Realizing the huge surprise that Ms. Marshall had just spoiled, her eyes nearly doubled in size. "Oh, God! I take back what I said."

"It's okay," Michael giggled. "It'll be our secret."

Ms. Marshall slightly blushed at the words, It'll be our secret. "So, what time will you be joining us?"

Michael reached in his top drawer, looking for his appointment book. He moistened his finger as he flipped to the correct page. "I was thinking around twelve."

"Perfect," Ms. Marshall replied. "See you then, Michael."

As Michael hung up the phone, he could slowly feel the thoughts entering back into his head. Before they could reach full-force, he threw on the nearest t-shirt and made his way into the bathroom.

Looking at his reflection staring right back at him, he couldn't help but notice all the lighter patches on his skin. His vitiligo had gotten so much worse over the course of the last few years.

Michael Jackson was so much better when he was black, Michael's mind kept saying to him. He hated being black, now he's trying to become white. What a freak!

His thoughts now over-crowding his mind was all too much for him to handle. He quickly looked away from the mirror, causing all his thoughts to slowly drift off.

As usual, he completed his morning routine and now headed to the kitchen. There, awaited the one who had stayed the most faithful towards Michael through it all.

Sylvia Smith, the strong, sensitive, and affectionate woman. The type who didn't take advantage of Michael because of what he had, but loved him for all of the kindness and love he gave.

Standing at the counter, she was in the process of preparing them both coffee. She heard him creep up behind her and with a slight jump of surprise, she turned around, greeting him lovingly and affectionately.

Handing the coffee to Michael, she was beaming at the sight of his presence. "Good morning, my love."

Michael returned the same warm-hearted and caring beam. "Hi, sweetheart," he greeted warmly. "I was a little worried when I woke up. You weren't there."

Sylvia gently rubbed his arm, while looking into his eyes with nothing but pure love and concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Michael said, looking down into his cup of coffee.

"Michael, I know when you're lying," Sylvia remarked.

Michael took Sylvia's hand, guiding her to their round kitchen table as he began explaining what was going on. "It's like these thoughts are pounding against my head."

"What do you mean?" Sylvia interrogated.

"I mean, all the tabloids, lies, and junk that the media writes about me," Michael explained.

On rare occasions, it was hard for Sylvia to understand what Michael went through. "We know all that it isn't true," she reminded him.

Michael threw his head in his hands, trying hard to keep his frustration tucked away.
"Yeah, we know it's not true," he began. "But to have millions among millions of people who do believe the junk that's written about me is hard."

Sylvia picked up Michael's head in her hands and began rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. "Listen, I know that I'll never completely understand what you're going through, but what I do know is that I hate seeing you like this."

Michael pulled Sylvia closer, as their foreheads leaned against each other, he gently placed a brief, yet affection kiss on her lips. He tried hard to realize with her nothing he faced would have to be faced alone.

//

Welp! That's the end of the chapter! If you made it this far, I would like to point out that this is my first fanfic I've ever written, so it'll be a learning experience. Chapters will get longer, of course! But, get ready to go on this wild journey! I love you all!