~ THE MAGIC OF CHILDHOOD - YOUNG MICHAEL JACKSON IMAGINES ~

"Just Call My Name . . . "

1970
~~~~

"Y/N!" Michael called, bursting through the back gates of your backyard.

You let out a sniffle before grabbing a tissue. Raising the tissue to your face, you furiously wiped your eyes and cheeks before Michael could make his way around the tree.

"Y/N?" Michael called, using a softer tone as he walked around the tree trunk.

It was a warm, summer day. The late afternoon breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding shrubbery, giving more life to the scenery. You were sitting on the grass, resting your back against the trunk of your enormous camphor tree. Your knees were pulled to your chest as you kept your tissue box on your right. On most days, you would've been out enjoying the perfect weather. However, today was not most days.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Michael asked, his doe eyes widening in concern.

You shook your head, sniffling as the breeze blew your hair. "It's nothing."

Michael frowned, eyeing you sympathetically. He walked in front of your body and crouched down, giving himself an easier view of your face. As you looked up, his sparkling brown gaze met yours.

"You're crying," he observed.

Putting your head back down, you tucked your knees farther into your chest. Michael got on his knees and crawled next to you. Reaching around you, he wrapped his right arm around your shoulders before pulling you closer to him. You hated letting people see you cry, but you couldn't help appreciating Michael's comfort.

"What's the matter?" He asked softly, rubbing your shoulder.

"I don't want you to worry about me, Mike," you whispered, using your tissue to wipe another falling tear.

"You're my best friend, Y/N. I'm gonna worry about you, whether you like it or not," he answered, taking the tissue from your grip and wiping your cheeks himself.

You let out a sigh, knowing you wouldn't win this fight. "My dog died."

Michael froze, stopping his movements. "Sunshine?"

Michael instantly thought of your lively golden retriever. He'd known that dog as long as he'd known you. Every time Michael had the chance to visit your house, which was located right next to his, Sunshine would greet him by affectionately pouncing on him. He'd developed a great love for the spirited animal.

"Mhm," You hummed, nodding your head.

"Oh, Y/N," Michael spoke sympathetically, "I'm so sorry."

"I know she was your friend, too," you said softly, trying to keep your quivering voice under control.

"She was, but she was your friend for longer," Michael answered, "How did she pass?"

"Yesterday, we were playing back here. I was throwing the ball around the yard, like we usually do, you know? Then, someone drove down the street with really loud music. When she heard the noise, Sunshine got excited and ran through the gate. I tried to run after her, but it all happened so fast. Before I could stop her, she ran into the street, right in front of the car," you told him.

Your eyes began to well up again as you thought back to the horrific event. For a moment, Michael's mouth hung open in shock. You supposed he'd assumed that Sunshine had an illness or had to be put down. He didn't realize that your precious dog had actually been killed. Upon hearing the tragic story, Michael felt his own eyes well up. However, he swallowed his emotions. He knew that you were hurting and he needed to be strong for you.