The Maid In Neverland || Michael Jackson

Chapter 7

Both of us just stared at each other for a moment. He was obviously surprised by my sudden appearance and he stopped there like a deer in headlights while holding a carton of milk. We were both standing awkwardly in the silence of the kitchen.

I couldn't believe I'd mistaken him for a ghost just because of his shoulder-length curly hair and all white outfit. For a moment, his silhouette looked like a woman's. Sans the breast.

"G-good evening, Sir," I said, bowing.

He just nodded and didn't speak. I heard him heave a deep sigh as he closed the refrigerator's door. He went to the counter, sat on a stool and started pouring some milk on an empty glass.

I proceeded to the sink to get a glass. As I was about to fill it with water, I heard him speak behind me.

"Why are you still awake?"

I turned around. For a moment, I thought it wasn't me that he was talking to but then I realized that we were the only persons here. It was me he was asking.

"I couldn't sleep, Sir," I answered.

"Drinking milk helps," he said. "Come, I'll pour you some."

I was reluctant at first but then I thought that it was my boss calling me so I had to follow. I walked towards him holding an empty glass. I put it down the counter and he started filling it with milk.

"There you go," he said in a low but soft voice. "Drink. That would help you to sleep."

I smiled shyly. "Thank you, Sir."

He motioned me to sit so I sat on one of the stools, holding my glass of milk. The two of us just sat there in the silence of the night as we were drinking our milks. No one spoke. I was just playing with my cold fingers as I digest the fact that I was in the kitchen at midnight, sitting on the counter while drinking milk with Michael Jackson, the most famous man in the world. The man sitting in front of me wearing a simple white v-neck shirt and a pajama was literally a superstar adored by billions of people and worshipped by billions of fans but as I look at him now, I only saw a simple human being. Not a superstar but a normal man. A simple man drinking a glass of milk with a messy curls of hair.

I smiled at the thought.

"I thought you'd come to the library this morning," he suddenly said. "But it was the other maid who came."

I looked at him. So he was expecting me?

"My assignment to the library ended, Sir. I am now assigned to clean here in the kitchen."

He nodded. "I see."

Silence again. I glanced at him and saw that he was just staring at his milk, his fingers gently tapping on the surface of the counter. Fingers with white tapes on their tips. I wonder what the tapes were for.

I took a sip from my milk. It was warm in my mouth. I remembered how my brother loves milk but he couldn't drink as much as he want because we could only buy it if I had spare money. That's how hard life was for us.

"Wanna come?"

My eyes drifted to him when I heard him speak. He was already standing and I looked at him with a puzzled expression. "S-sir?"

"Come with me."

"Where?"

He just smiled.

The both of us made our way out the kitchen. The whole house was dark and only lighted by the moonlight that was seeping through the windows. I was behind him, and together we walked silently towards the stair case. We were still holding our own glass of milk, though. I could feel my heart was beating so fast. My fingers were cold. Why did I agree to come with him? I didn't know.