michael jackson Club
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I try to resist lisening in.
I make sure I have everything. I remember tossing my hat in your drawer. I pull it out and some papers fly out. I put my hat on and pick them up. I notice they have my name in hearts, stars, and roses. I get Butterflies. I look through them (hey, they have my name on them :P). You're so sweet!!!
I've fallen for her... and... I'm NOT ashamed. She's beautiful and everything I would ever want in a girl. She may be 15... but... You know? 3 years until she's 18 and maybe we could get married. Just be forever together. The only thing that would be a problem is the age... But I amor her. It's not sexual at all. It's innocent, pure Love. I mean, she is beautiful... But... If she was of age and we were ready, married, and happy, then yes. But now all I wanna do is hold her in my arms and try to tell her what words can't express.
I wipe the tear than unknowingly rolled down my cheek, put the notes back, make sure all my crap is packed and drag it downstairs.
You see me and your eyes light up. I Smile. You do, too. We hug. "I amor you," we whisper in unison, then giggle.
"Um... Adds..." you stroke my hair.
"What's wrong?"
"Well... God, I hate how your mother made me tell you this," You bite your lip. It's always so cute! "... I can't..."
"Is it about Mom and Terry?" I ask, having a feeling.
You nod. "Terry... Um... He caught-- God, I really hate having to tell you this..."
"They're through?" I ask.
"... Yeah... So your mom's all alone and pissed, which is understandable... But I'm worried for you. I'm gonna try to calm her down... and..." you sigh. "I'm truly sorry, Addy."
"This happens alot. It's not your fault she's a whore..."
"Addy," you say, an odd expression on your face. "Anyways, I understand what you're going through..."
I squeeze your hand, and you squeeze it back. I Smile. "I can get through this. I'm a trooper!"
You giggle. I pull up a chair (I'm 5'3 and you're, like, almost 6' tall?) and stand on it.
"Shorty," You giggle.
"Shush," I giggle and kiss your cheek.
... I wish my Mom would actually care about someone other than herself. Maybe she would if she wasn't a two-timing whore... Out for people's Money... She needs to stop complaining. She brings this sh*t onto herself.
I embrulho, envoltório my arms around your neck, and you embrulho, envoltório your arms around my waist. I get Butterflies. Our lips meet. I'm in Heaven, Michael. I'm in Heaven's Heaven. Fireworks explode like bombs in my head. Your lips are soft, warm and sweet... Our hearts are racing at the speed of light. It's a soft, sweet (no tongue!) kiss... Until the doorbell ruins the mood. We softly part. We Smile at eachother. I'm so giddy and glad, though I shouldn't be for my mother's sake.
The doorbell keeps on ringing. "Sorry Linda!" you say, opening the door while I set my stuff on the couch.
"Whatever," she sighs.
"Hey Mom," I wave, trying to hide my Euphoric state, and you are, too. You help me with my bag, I tell you I've got it, but you say nooooooo.
"Mom, I thought you were gonna tell me in the car? Why'd you make Eo tell me?" I ask.
"I have my reasons, Addiline." she growls, causing you to wince.
"Linda," you say in a gentle manner. She gives you a thoughtful look.
"Addy, when we get home, get dressed, get your violin, make yourself look presentable, then wait." she then says.
"For what?" I ask.
"The teacher, Addy, the teacher. Every Saturday!"
"Sorry," I roll my eyes. "The rest of today is gonna be soooo Disneyland."
"Addiline," she growls.
"You always act like such a b*tch to me when your husband runs away," I'm now on the verge of tears. I can get very emotional.
"Excuse me??"
"You act like it's my fault when this happens! Like I'm the Bad kid and made him leave! But you know good and well if you would just close your legs and stop giving Money away, then maybe you would find a good man! I am SO f*cking tired of this sh*t! it's not like I get a say in who you marry. Every. Single. Man you've gone with was disgusting, sick and rude to me- You didn't care! You were 'in Love' with the prick! What the f*ck! The only guy that went well with you and me caught you! Just like Terry! What the Hell is wrong with you??" I let out a breath, take my bag and slam the door behind me.
So much for being a trooper.

Mom doesn't even acknowledge me in the car. She doesn't care about the truths I've pointed out, or how that I'm Crying.
But you're holding me close, letting me Cry on you for the segundo time today.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as you squeeze my hand. You softly murmur, that it's okay.
Mom has road rage, and I'm so damn glad we live close. When we get into the drive way she slams hard on the breaks.
"God damn, Mom," I growl.
"Shut up, Addiline," she says back. "Go get dressed. Go look like you care about your appearance. Slap on some makeup and look like you want to attract someone, because God knows you can't naturally."
"Linda!" You exclaim.
"Fuck you, Mom," I shoot the bird at Mom and go upstairs. I hear you try to say something to me, but Mom stops you.
I put on a black, long-sleeved fitted sirt that dips into a "V" and some purple skinnies.
Makeup shmakeup. Forget that.
I grab my violin and wait downstairs.
"I didn't ask you to dress like a whore," God, Mom, you just gotta Be Startin Somethin.
"What the f*ck, you gave me this shirt!"
"Stop cursing! I'm not your friends, you can't just curse at me!"
"Whatever," I go back upstairs.
"Addy," I hear your sweet gentle voice. Like música to ears and soul. You just came from the bathroom up here, cuz your hands smell like Pomagranite Mango. You pull me into a gentle hug. "You're not ugly, and you don't look like a whore. You're truly beautiful. You're mother's just mad..."
I blush. "Thank you... Are you staying?" I ask.
You nod, look around and kiss my cheek. I shiver. I want to kiss your lips again...
"The violin teacher's gonna freak!" I giggle. "She's a huge fan!" I play with your silky curls and you kiss my cheek again.
"On a scale from 1 to you?" you joke.
"She's real close," I show you with my fingers. Your laugh is delightful. I tell you I'm going to change before Mom asks what's talking me so long.
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