It All Started With You (A Michael Jackson Love Story)

It All Started With You (A Michael Jackson Love Story)

Another Michael Jackson love story :) This is my eleventh one. And it belongs to me, Ivana, and no one else!

This is set in 1974, in California. (Michael is 16, by the way)

Helana (Ellie) West
15 years old
Mixed (black&white) skin
Hazel/green eyes
Dark brown curly hair
Wears glasses and has braces
5'5"
Underweight, so no curves

Chapter 1

In this story, there is going to be a song for every chapter. This chapter's song is Alone by Heart

by: MrsRadke
I strolled through the halls in a haze, as I do everyday. I barely see anything anymore; it's not that I can't more so that I have no desire to. It all has seemed so worthless to me since I lost my best friend, who happened to be my only one.

His name was Michael, Michael Jackson. He was the most caring, kind, compassionate, understanding, and fun-loving person I've ever known. He actually took the time to get to know me insteading of judging me like everyone else in this damn world does.

God, I miss him so much.

He became insanely famous about three years ago and left. I know it wasn't his fault that all of it happened, but I am still mad at him.
He promised me that he would call me and write to me every week; everyday if he got the chance, he said.

He kept his promise at first, then the calls began to slow down and I noticed that the letters came less frequently. Eventually the calls just stopped aswell as the letters. When I tried to write to him, I'd either get a reply that said something short like, yeah, I'm doing fine. I miss you, or no reply at all. So I gave up completely a few months ago.

I still miss him like crazy, and everyday I hope to go home to find him sitting up in my backyard tree like we used to when we were little. But everyday I go home to an empty tree, and utter disappointment.

And I've never told anyone that I knew him; I'd rather people dislike me than like me for a bad reason.

I don't remember when, but one day I overheard a classmate talk about how she new someone who used to cut themselves after their parents died. As I was listening to this I was wondering what the blade might feel like running over my skin, so when I got home I tried it.
I had never felt so powerful before, and that feeling over took my sadness about Michael, but only temporarily; so I did it again, and again, and again. I cut on a regular basis now, and you'd think my parents would notice, but no. They're too busy caring about my oh so perfect sister, Emily, to realize what I'm going through. The only thing I have to turn to now is my journal; it really helps me get my feelings out when I write poems and songs in it. Sometimes it feels almost as good as cutting.

Almost.

Anyways, that's my life. My sad, sick, masocistic life.






Just as the bell rang I walked into my first period class; Social Studies.

"West, you're late again!" my teacher, Mr, Murphy yelled as he slammed his cup of coffee down on his desk.

"I'm sorry, Sir." I said quietly. He stared at me momentarily, "well, what are you gawking at? Have a seat so I can begin class." he said sternly. I flushed as I hurried to my seat in the very back of the room. On the way back there a girl named Sarah, tried to trip me. Luckily I caught myself before I fell on my face, but I still earned a few snickers and whispers from the rest of the class. I sat down in my seat and opened my textbook as Mr. Murphy began scribbling across the board.


Last period- Band


The final bell of the day shrieked through the huge bandroom. Everybody exited the room and into the halls quickly. I assume they all wanted to get home, since it was Friday. But I didn't care much; I stayed behind and slowly put my sticks for percussion away. Then my new band director, Ms. McSweeny, came and stood behind me, "the bell rang, Ellie, and it's my job to pick those up." she said as she watched me fumble around with the other sticks and mallets that weren't in the right place.

"I know." I breathed out.

"Well you should probably go..... I wouldn't want you to miss your bus." she said politely.

"I walk to school." I mumbled as I tried to get around her to fix something else, but to no avail.

She stared at me for a while, scrutinizing my face. I stared back with a blank expression, as always.

"Would you like a ride home?" she suddenly asked me. It surprised me; no one has ever asked me that before.
Since I only had my permit, I nodded my head silently.


Car ride


I didn't talk much on the way to my house. I was too shy to, so she tried to make most of the conversation that was about mainly about school and my home life. But the questions took a wrong turn when we were around the corner from my house, "so why don't you take the bus?" she asked me as she turned onto my street.

I looked around, "um, it's kind of complicated....." I muttered as I looked out the window.

"I'm sure I can keep up." she said. I guess I wasn't getting out of answering anytime soon.

"Well some of the kids, they're...... they're kind of mean to me. So I just try to avoid them by walking or riding my bike." I said quietly.

She looked at my as we pulled into my driveway, "How mean?" she asked as she parked the car.

My eyes drifted on the front door to my house, "it doesn't really matter." I said trying to open the door, but it was locked.

"Honey, you're not leaving this car until you tell me what they say to you." she commanded, but it was in a nice way.

"Why should I?" I questioned.

"Because I want to help you."

"You don't care." I snapped. I wasn't normally this angry..... it was strange.

"How do you know that?" she challenged me as she folded her arms. I eyed her; she was comepletely focused on me. It made my eyes water from the look in hers. It actually seemed like she cared about me.

I somehow broke away from her gaze and stared out the window, "they call me a lot of things.......... I hear whore, ugly, and useless the most." I said as a small tear rolled down my cheek. I glanced back at er to see that she was almost in tears herself. She wiped away mine with her thumb, "child, don't listen to them. None of those things are true...." she trailed off as she rubbed my arm. Her voice and touch were so soothing; motherly, kind of. A couple more tears made their way out of my eyes and onto my lap, "it's gonna be okay." she said. Was I really crying in front of someone I just met last semester? This can't be.....

"It's just n-not (cough)..... fair! And it's (sniffle) never g-going to s-stop!" I said as I put my face in my hands. It felt good to finally get out my feelings. Even if it was to another actual person.

"It's going to be okay. I promise you. It will get better." she said with a small smile. I lifted my face out of my hands; I could feel all of the tears streaks going in different directions.

Her words rang in my head, I promise. Where have I heard that line before?

I nodded my head barely, I just wanted to get out of the car and be alone in my room.

"I know it will." I said. I guess I was convincing enough because she unlocked the doors and I was free to go. I grabbed my backpack jumped out of the car, "thank you." I said before I shut the door and fumbled in my bag for the house keys. When I found them I walked swiftly to my front door and opened it. I set my bag down on the floor as I watched her drive away, watching me as she left. I shook my head and tried to scrub away some of the tears marks along my face.

I took the stairs two at a time as I ascended my way up the stairs. I hung a quick left and walked into my room. My safe, peaceful room.

I fell down onto my bed and sprawled out. As I was lying there her words kept repeating over and over in my mind, it's going to be okay. It was just such a lie it was almost believeable.

Well whatever made me think that was the truth, definately wouldn't go away.

I stood up and mindlessly glided over to where my window was. I began ripping away all of the stuffed animals that sat there happily and threw them onto my bed. I sat down on the sill and looked out at the big tree in my backyard.

I folded my hands and closed my eyes to pray out loud:

God, if you're listening please help me. I want to believe her words were true, but I just can't, and I have no idea why. Please, please, help me to believe and accept that it could get better. As a matter of fact, I would love for it to happen. Again, I'm not sure if you'd ever want to listen to the idiot girl who's asking this of you but........ it'd just be nice if you did. I'd just like to know for once that it really is going to be alright. Amen














All I have to say is, He was listening......................













(A/N: Geez! Why do all my new story chapters suck eggs? Someone explain that to me please, because I am hopelessly at a loss with that. Anyways, comment even though it's really not worth it. I promise chapter 2 or 3 will be better. No promises that it'll be up super soon though. OKay rate comment, whatever you guys normally do when I'm not watching XD)

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