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Blanket's Mother (part three)
Enjoy!!! ---------------------------------------------------------------- I was very caught off guard, because I didn't see the professionals that i expected to see. The only living breathing things in the whole entire room was me, and the man with the two small children. I seriously didn't know what was going on. But I just knew that this was all some trick. This was a scam! I was sad, confused and angry at the fact that the dream that I had forever trying to get close to, it was all some big fake. Tears started to flow out of my eyes. I was so upset, I didn't realize that the man I was standing in front of was Michael Jackson. But you know what? I didn't care if he was MJ or not. He shouldn't have lied to me if he did. Me: (starting to cry) Y-You're a phony. You're nothing but a...phony. He looked very sympathetic and guitly at the fact that he had lied to me and mislead me to think that I was close to my dream. MJ: Look...Miss...I'm very sorry...(comes up to me) Me: (hurt and angry) You know what? Don't say anything to me! (runs away from him, crying) MJ: Miss, wait! (follows me) I did not know where to go at all, since it was a big house. I found the closest escape I could find. I hated Michael. I really did, because he had me thinking that I was going to be known and favored for my talent.But it was all a big, fat lie. Michael was really the man who called me on the phone, because he had the same exact voice. I hid into a closet and there, in the dark, I sobbed my eyes out. Five minutes later, I heard the door creak and footsteps. I thought it was Michael. Me: Look, leave me al-- But it was not MJ. It was this little girl, who was sooo gorgeous and she looked so sweet and cuddly. The little girl was gentle. Little girl: Why are you mad at my daddy? Me: Uh... What could I tell that little girl? Tell her that her father tricked me into believing that I was going to be a young national painter? I couldn't. Me: Um...what's your name, sweetie? Little girl: Paris... Me:(smiles) Aww, I like that name. Paris...it's a very pretty name... Paris: Thank you..(gives a sweet smile) Me: Um...Paris...there is nothing wrong...me and your daddy are just fine...okay? Paris: (nods head) Okay...But, what's your name? Me: My name is Violet Summers...May I must say, you are a very beautiful little girl...(smiles) Paris: Thank you. What a polite little girl! She was lovely! And I know what you're thinking. Why did you tell her everything was okay? Well, I couldn't say that about her father. She would look at him as a bad person, and I didn't want that for little Paris. Paris: Will you play dollies with me? Me: Sure thing, sweetheart. She took my hand and guided me upstairs to her room. thankfully, I didn't see her deceitful father. Paris had all of these baby dolls, from Barbies to Cabbage Patch Kids, to rag dolls. After five minutes of playing dolls with her, this little boy with blond hair came into the room. Me: Oh, and who are you, you handsome young man? Little boy: My name is Prince! Me: (smiles) Hi, Prince. I'm Violet Summers. (holds out hand) Prince: (shakes my hand) Hi... Wow! I had never seen such young kids be so smart and so polite! I guess the man I hated taught them well. After an hour of hanging with the kids, the door creaked open and Michael showed up, wearing a red robe, looking very sorry. I turned my head to the other direction, because I didn't want to see him for what he had done... TBC...
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