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At Last (Part Twelve)
Hi! Wanna dedicate this to the mjsite peeps all over the globe and MJ. A special dedication is to the strong people over there in Japan who went through a terrible tsunami which was a shcoking 8.9 on the Richter scale. I'm praying for them and all of their families...Here is part twelve, but is really eleven..----------------------------------------------------------------- * Three Years Later* It was then the year of 1991, and I lived with Michael at our Neverland Ranch, with our then three year old son, Michael Joseph Jackson II, AKA, "Little Michael," or "Mikey." On the exact day of September 15, 1991, I was at our Neverland home, in the family room, making stuff made out of Legos with Mikey, when Michael finally came home from the recording studio, polishing up tracks from his album "Dangerous," which would come in two months, in November. Michael: I'm home!! Once Mikey heard his daddy's voice through the door, he immediately came up running. He loved his father. Mikey: Daddy!!! (runs up to him) Michael: (picking him up) Hey, Little one! Were you good for Mommy? Mikey: Yes...I wuv you! Michael: Aw! I "wuv" you, too. (kisses his cheek) Now, you go play. Mikey: Okay, Daddy. (runs back to his legos) Me: Hey, baby. (walks up to him) Michael: Hi, Honey. (kisses me) Me: (playing with his curls) So, how was your day, sweetie? Michael: (sighs) Very, very tiring...but, I think "Dangerous" is going to be huge in my opinion, but we just need a little bit more polishing and it'll be big. Me: Bigger than "Bad"? Michael: I think so. Me: You're ususally right. Now...(holds him) Let's go upstairs. (kisses him) Michael: Whoa! How about tonight, when Mikey's asleep, okay? Me: No, not that. I just want to give you a back massage, silly goose. (giggles) Michael: Oh...of course. (giggles also) We then walked upstairs. Me: Sit. Michael: (sits on the bed) I hope "Dangerous" turns out my best. Me: (takes his shirt off) Me too, baby. (starts massaging his back) I think it'll be as big as "Thriller." Michael: Eh, i don't know. I should've done more polishing on that one. Me: Are you serious? It's the best selling album of all time! Michael: Well, I thought "Bad" would be bigger and better than "Thriller", but I was wrong. Me: But you were right when you thought "Thriller" would be bigger than "Off the Wall." Michael: I just don't know anymore. Poor guy. He seemed stressed. I could tell because he had tons of knots in his back and major tenseness on his shoulders. Me: Trust yourself. Listen to your heart. If you listen to your heart, anything is possible. Michael: (looks up at me) You're right. Aw, girl, I love you. Me: (giggles) I love you more. (keeps on massaging) Does that feel good? Michael: Mmm hmm. Oh yes. It feels very good. Me: You have all of these knots. All of that stressin'. Michael: I guess I need to calm down...take a break. Me: Yes. Relax. You can't be Superman all of the time. Michael: I've been Superman for 28 years. (now focused on the massage) Mmm...that feels very nice. Well, if you excuse me, I'm going to take a shower. Me: Ooh, how about a nice hot bath with some bubbles? Michael: That sounds nice. I ran some bathwater, putting some fine bubbles in it and I turned off the lights with some candles lit. I made it just for him to relax in. Me: Enjoy your bath, Mr. Jackson. Michael: Thank you. (playing around and pretending) Here's a quarter for your trouble. (flips me a quarter) Both of us: (laughs) I bit my lip slightly as I watched him strip off his clothes and hop in the Jacuzzi. I was going to leave when Michael stopped me. Michael: Wait...come in with me. Me: Oh, I would love to, but...I gotta check on Mikey. Michael: Well, the workers can have him right now. C'mon. It's our only alone time together. Me: (sighs) Fine. I took my clothes off and got into the tub with him. I felt worried about Mikey, because I didn't want anything to happen to him, becuase I lost a child that I was carrying the previous year... *Flashback to August of 1990* Michael and I were in the kitchen and I really wasn't feeling well. I felt fatigue, worn out, and done. I also felt like a big pile of crap in a puddle. Me: (tired) Oh, honey. Help me up. Michael: (helping me get up) Are you tired? Me: (yawns) Yes. I feel like absolute crap on legs. (lol) My belly is huge as the earth, my back aches like hell, and my boobs are so swollen. (groans) I feel so burned out. Michael: Oh, sweetie. I'm sorry, but I guarantee you that the baby that you're going to have will all be worth it. Me: Eh, I guess. Michael: You want me to massage your back? Me: No thank you, baby. I'm just gonna take a small nap. That small nap turned out to be a large nap, because I woke up at four o' clock in the morning... with sharp pains hitting all around my stomach. I was squeezing and holding onto the sheets, trying to avoid and ease the pain, but it only got worse. I eventually squealed painfully, but I couldn't hold the pain any longer. I actually started to scream. Of course, it woke Michael up. Michael: Are you okay? Me: No!!! (groans with pain) When Michael lifted up the bedsheets to get out of bed, he saw a large pool of blood flooding all over the once pure white sheets. Now they were blood red. Michael: Oh my God! You're bleeding! We rushed to the hospital and then we got the major shock of our lives. Doctor Baines: Um...Mr. Jackson, Ms. Banks...there is no easy way to say this but...we found no heartbeat. When I actually heard the words, "We found no heartbeat," my heart just tore into a billion pieces. Dr. Baines: You have to deliver the child stillborn. Michael just stood there and there were tears covering his eyes as his head slowly went down. I was sobbing helplessly and I wanted to throw up. It was really the worst day of my life. I remember they forced off my pajama pants and my panties as they had me on the hospital bed. I was screaming at them, asking what were they doing. I had to deliver the dead baby, they said. After hours of pushing, screaming, and crying with pain and hurt, the baby came out. We would've had a baby girl, but we had lost her on the terrible summer night of August 28, 1990, just a day before Michael's 32nd birthday. We were going to name her Delilah Marianne Jackson. After I pushed her out, we took one look at her and it just broke Michael to pieces once he saw her lifeless, little body, full of blood and placenta, and her face. She looked just like him, especially when he was sleeping. She looked like an angel and she was an actual angel. We buried her on Michael's birthday, on August 29th, 1990 and one day after I had her. This birthday considered to be Michael's worst. We put her in a little, shiny, golden coffin, with sunflowers and daisies surrounding it, and a little halo was stuck on top of the coffin, considering that she was an angel. Everyone was there, and we were holding hands and praying that God would protect her and He would take very good care of our little angel. Tears were coming out of everyone's eyes, including mine, of course. Fortunately. I was strong enough to attend the ceremony to let my baby girl rest in peace. Her grave said this: "Even though we never got a chance to hold you, to touch you, to see your smile, or to even kiss you, we love you and we miss you. You're God's little angel and He will hold you in His arms for all eternity. Delilah Marianne Jackson Aug 28, 1990- Aug 28, 1990 Sweet Little Angel... You Were Gone Too Soon" TBC... Man, I hope none of yall cried on this. Well, vote!
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