Delusional

Delusional

My eyes are heavy and watery, my face stained from the tears.
Walking down the street, thinking of you. Wait, is that what I think it is? No... I'm going crazy, I'm just... ''Delusional''......

Chapter 1

Pain, Heartache, Happiness, Confusion

by: TRUPYT
''We now are here to give you this breaking news, pop star Michael Jackson pronounced dead at 50 years old.'' ''Singer was found lying in his bed not breathing.''
''Singer confirmed dead at 2:26 PM Los Angeles time. Stay tuned for more information on this tragic happening that has seemed to stop the world.'' ''As we all come to realization of the loss.''


That was now going on three years ago when I heard the news... My idol, my love, my soul mate, the love of my life, the man of my dreams. Dead. Gone.
I cried for days, I couldn't sleep, I wouldn't eat, my life seemed over. But I knew that I had to go on for him, he would have wanted me to push on.
And here I am, a few years later, a professional dancer in ''Cirque Du Soleil Michael Jackson IMMORTAL Tour''.
It isn't easy, having to travel around the world, performing day after day and practicing night after night to be perfect. But feeling that beat, and having that rush come over you, the feeling that Michael's spirit is helping your feet glide across the floor as you Moonwalk. There is nothing like it in this world.
I wish he was still here. I wish he could have seen this show, he would have been so proud.
He always loved Cirque Du Soleil. Too bad he passed before the real magic started to glisten. When he passed it seemed like most of the magic went with him.
When he was around, roses would twinkle with dew, clouds would cease to exist, happiness was always spread, and smiles were always shared.
Now that he's gone, to me the roses seem to shrivel, the clouds block the sun and rain sadness upon me, happiness is a rarity, and smiles seem to come up fake and small.
I try hard for him, I really do. But it is hard to smile when the one you love is gone.
Every night I lay in bed, hoping, praying, begging, for God to let him come and visit me or just to feel his spirit just once. I wake up each morning hoping to see him throughout the day sometime. But it never happens.
Walking down the cracked sidewalks of Paris, I admired the beauty of the scenery and the people. Music flowed through my ears, I knew that beat anywhere.
I stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and let the beat take me over.
The chorus flowed gently through my ears, ''Billie Jean is not my lover,''
I let the music control me and move me to the rhythm, I didn't care who was watching me or what they thought, I just enjoyed myself.
I finished with a final signature pose, panting heavily right as the last beat hit. I was overwhelmed with the sound of clapping and cheering; I opened my eyes, a smile grew across my face.
Tons of people had gathered around me and watched me perform, I hadn't even noticed them until now.
I took a quick bow and thanked them; many of them handed me money. I tried not to take it but they insisted and told me I deserved it.
I was surrounded by people asking me questions about how I learned and things of that matter, then I saw something that caught my eye.
The outline posed, then took off down an alley. I grew curious and pushed my way through the crowd. I ran to the alley and stopped midway.
"Hello?" I asked. Nothing.
I looked around a bit confused. I swore I had seen a shadow...
''Hee hee...'' I heard slightly as the wind blew.
The wind grew harder; a black fedora hat landed at my feet. I bent down and slowly picked it up, tracing my finger along the black band.
I looked up from the hat toward the end of the alley, only to see the same shadow spin swiftly and take off in another direction. I can't help but follow it.

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