Fall Again (a Michael Jackson fanfiction)

12. Morning

Hopes POV 🥀

I found myself doing a full makeup face the next morning, something I hadn't done for months. Last time I'd done that was Juliette's 16th birthday party.

I looked with dissatisfaction at my curls. James and Juliette had straight hair, I was the only sibling with crazy untameable curls. But mum shared my curly hair, she told me my hair was beautiful.

It wasn't curly like Afro, it was like if a white girl curled their hair. I wasn't black but I wasn't exactly white either, I had olive skin and dark features.
I'd always thought olive skin and green eyes were beautiful, but sadly I had brown eyes.

I headed into work and the nurses office was buzzing. I listened in and found out that Michael Jackson had tried to drown himself in the bath last night, and needed oxygen.

I went straight to his room, pushing my curls behind my ears, glancing in my phone camera to check my makeup.

I took a deep breath as I stood outside his door, then knocked gently. "Michael?"

There was no answer, so I pushed the door slightly open, he was asleep in bed, drooling a bit with curls all over his face. I entered the room and slowly, quietly walked towards him and looked down at his peaceful, cute face.
I pushed a hair back from his face and he wrinkled his nose in his sleep and I couldn't help smiling.

Then I left him to rest, having one last look at his beautiful sleeping face before I left the room, closing the door behind me.

I passed Valerie in the corridor, who smiled at me as she headed to check on her patient, Louis Holland. He was schizophrenic but honestly the sweetest old man ever, always talking about his late wife Hanna, who had died a few years back. We would hear him talking to her in his room, and it was pretty heartbreaking.

Another nurse, Indy, who was transgender, was standing in the hallway clicking her tongue as she checked her notes. Her long brown wig was tied back in a plait like Sofias. 

"Hey, dopey Hopey." She said without looking up, as I passed, then sniggered to herself.
"Hey windy Indy" I responded, flicking her wig.

I re-adjusted my glasses in the mirror in the staff room, we'd changed all the normal mirrors with plastic ones that couldn't be broken, after a psychotic violent patient smashed a mirror and chased half the staff around with a shard before slitting his wrists.

Hayley and Amy, two student nurses were sitting on the desk chatting. They'd barely just graduated and were fully made up, with big hair and false eyelashes. Hayley was dark and grey eyed while Amy was albino, but they shared the same thick fake eyelashes and long false nails that they'd been told to remove but refused.

Derek and two other men from Louella ward, the ward for young men between the ages of 12-18, were chatting about rugby or something.

I tapped my passcode into my phone and saw immediately on the news "popstar Michael Jackson admitted to mental health hospital" .

Wow, that was fast.