I wish I could express just how strong my l’amour for Michael Jackson is. He was such an amazing man and I wish I could've at least hugged him back when he was still alive, but I was too busy dealing with my rough early childhood. He makes me feel like I'm not alone though. I can't explain just how much him and his musique help me. I want to be like him in so many ways. He was always such a beautiful man and a little boy at heart, keeping this sense of innocence and this imagination that most lose. I promise I'll never lose any of that either. I couldn't if I wanted to. It's such a part of me. Sharing it with Michael makes me so happy and knowing he would've loved me too makes me feel even better. He was very misunderstood and so am I. I wish he'd felt less alone and had plus who could see into his soul with love. I l’amour him in all the ways possible and I respect and look up to him so damned much. I can't say it better than that. I l’amour you, Michael.

Fancy's P.O.V.

At last, I was at home, where I belonged. My mother was supposed to come accueil today, but she called and a dit that her trip was postponed and she had to stay in New York City until suivant Tuesday. She a dit she'd hated that she couldn't see us, it had been at least a year, though she still loved us. Being with my aunt isn't really exciting, she ignores us until there's a big modeling cabriolet, gig we have to do. I was scrunched up on the couch, under my fluffy blue blanket, watching the Brady Bunch. Felicity was on a rendez-vous amoureux, date with her new boyfriend, and my aunt was out shopping with her girly snobby friends, so I was alone. Nothing special about today, just glad to be at home.

* I might end this story, because of lack of ideas, I'll pull through. I also might take a longer time to update since I'm starting school soon. *

Jaycee's P.O.V.


I sit alone in my bathroom upstairs, my reflection staring back at me. Mascara tears were rolling down on my cheeks, making my face look like it had spiders on it. Chunks of my own hair was scattered under my chair. That's right, I cut my hair. Now it was a short bob and it has a red-auburn color to it.

If my family won't change, then I'll just have to change for them. I can focus on anything anymore, all I ever think about is my torn up family. They're starting to affect me in ways that will ruin my life entirely. I changed my sense of style, from pretty girly girl dresses to black leather coats and lots of eyeliner.