Chapter fifty-nine – You Win

Note: ohmigosh I can't believe this is the penultimate chapter of the story! What a blast the last five years has been writing this story. Also note: scenes of violence/mental health issues included in this chapter so read at your own risk. Thank you!

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-The following day-

-Clover's Point of View-

Today, I'm going to talk to Citria about what I know about Michael. It's going to be tough, but she needs to know in order to take the right steps for her, him and the baby. The last thing I'd want is for her to be so stressed that it puts the child at risk, and then Michael deteriorates too. At present, Michael is watching a home video show, which he hasn't done in a long time. It's pretty odd to me really, but perhaps he's trying to keep his mind off of other things he could be doing. I'm glad about that.

I'm in the kitchen trying to rehearse what to say to Citria in my head. There's no easy way to say something like this, but I'll have to try my best. As though she knows, Citria enters the kitchen a few moments after my thoughts have concluded. "Morning Clover," she greets, flashing a smile at me as she grabs a glass from the cupboard to fix herself some juice. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing ... okay. How are you?"

"I'm good too thanks. Feel a bit off, but I'll be okay." She chuckles a little, before taking a sip of her drink. "Any plans for today?"

"Well actually Cit, I needed to talk to you about something." There, I've laid the cards on the table. There's no going back now. All of a sudden, I feel nervous.

"Oh, sure. What is it?" Her eyebrows rise in curiosity, as she sets her glass down on the kitchen table. "Is it bad?"

"Um, well ... can we go upstairs to your room or something?" I request. The last thing I want is for Michael to overhear me talking so sensitively about his situation.

"Yeah, of course." She leads me up the stairs and into hers and Michael's room, before sitting on the bed and patting the space next to her. "So, what's up?"

"Uh, okay ... " It seems that all of a sudden, I've forgotten how to use the English language. Words are getting stuck in the back of my throat. "I-I guess there's no easy way of telling you this, what with you kind of—I mean, I don't want to put too much stress on you because of the baby—"

That came out very, very wrong. I wasn't even supposed to tell her I knew about the baby. I've really messed this up now. And that's even more evident by the look of surprise on her face.

"Clover, how do you know about that?" she hisses, trying to keep as quiet as she can so Michael doesn't hear. "Michael doesn't even know yet!"

"Well, that's kind of what I'm trying to tell you, Cit. I accidentally found your test a-and—"

"Why were you looking in my bedside drawer?" Her eyes widen, and her brows furrow deeply. "What made you think you could invade my privacy like that?"

"Citria, please let me explain!—"

"No; I've heard all I need to hear." She looks frustrated; she rises from the bed and starts to pace around the room. "I let you come live with Michael and I after my dad and Uncle Reiss died and the first thing you want to do is invade my privacy? Why Clover?" Her hands claw at her temples in a mix of agitation and confusion; she isn't shouting at me but she's clearly upset because I haven't had the chance to explain the logic behind it.

"Citr—" I give up halfway through and breathe, "Look, just let me explain what actually happened, okay? I had good intentions, I swear."

"What? How can that be good intentions Clover?" Her eyes roll a little, but hopefully once I explain she'll understand.

"Okay, see, I wanted to surprise you and Michael by cleaning the house and making it a little neater, seeing as you both let me live with you; and then I went to clean in your bedroom first! And—"

"—And you decided to snoop into my personal stuff? Because that's what seemed to happen." She sighs a little, already seeming tired despite the day only just having started. "Look, I don't need to hear anything else Clover. I'm going to go out for a walk, and then I'll come back home and try to listen to your excuse." She quietly but hastily leaves the room, not looking my way.

I didn't expect it to happen this way. I expected her to hear me out a little before she got mad at me. It was a mistake to mention what I knew about the baby, but I'm sure if I'd have avoided that and got to the point with Michael's situation it would have worked out better. I suppose the best thing to do is follow her.

Leaving the room myself, I rush down the stairs and into the living room. She seems to already have left, but Michael is still watching TV. "Michael, did Citria come in here a moment ago?"

"Yeah; she just said she was going for a walk, and she'd see me later. Then she kissed me goodbye." His tone doesn't contain much emphasis, but it isn't completely monotonous either. I hope he's okay. I don't want to broach the subject with him before Citria knows about it though, so I'll have to act as if I don't know up to now.

"Okay. Thank you. I'll go and find her. I need to talk to her. I'll see you later Michael." My brows furrow slightly in thought of what to say next. I quickly approach him, and rest my hand on his shoulder and make eye contact with him. "Thank you ... for existing." Before I leave the room, I give him a sincere, genuine smile. He smiles back, although it looks slightly forced. It's easier to detect fake smiles when you know what's going on behind the scenes I guess.

As I leave out the back door, I jog down the quiet road, past the fields near the house. It takes me about ten minutes to actually find her, because she walks pretty fast.

"Citria?" I call, earning her attention. She doesn't look as if she wants to talk to me, but she's going to have to anyway. She needs to know about Michael.

"Clover, I already told you I'd talk to you when I got home." She stops walking, and comes to a stop at the edge of a field. Her hair is mostly tied up, but the loose hairs are blowing freely in the morning breeze. Her hands are tucked into her pockets. "What could you possibly say to me right now?"

"I need to tell you what I was meant to tell you earlier," I start, standing by her side, but facing her. "It's important that you know."

"What could possibly be worth telling me, that couldn't wait until I got home?" Her eyes move down to the floor; maybe she knows deep down that I'm serious, because she isn't making any attempt to move away from me.

"Well ... first of all, I'll support you with the baby no matter what Michael thinks or says. Although I'm sure he will be very happy about it." A sigh passes my lips out of nervousness. It's so difficult to find the right words to say. "But the only reason I know about the test, ironically, is kind of Michael's doing. But he doesn't know."

She lifts her head up to look at me. "What do you mean?"

-Michael's Point of View-

"Where are you?" I question aloud, as if somebody out of thin air is going to answer my plea. "What's even happened?"

My eyes dart around frantically, for any kind of evidence as to where it could be. I've looked in my bedside drawer and I cannot, for the life of me, find the scarf with the pot inside of it. I had it only a couple of days ago, and I've not touched it since. I know for a fact that I put it back in this drawer like I always do, after I've finished with it. How can it have gone missing?

In a panic, I rush around the house in attempt to find it; but to no avail. How could this happen? Neither Clover nor Citria know anything about it, because they would have mentioned something by now if they did, so they can't have moved it. I can't have put it somewhere different because somebody else would have found it by now. I have literally no explanation for this. None at all.

As I pound down the stairs to look there, I'm stopped in my tracks. My whole body freezes at the bottom of the stairs as I'm met with something even I didn't expect at this moment in time.

"Marco, what are you doing here?"

He smirks a typical villainous smirk, "Hello Michael. I see we're alone, at long last. And if I'm correct, you're the last Jackson on my little hitlist."

-Citria's Point of View-

"So what you're saying is, you found the test because you looked in Michael's bedside drawer first?" Right now, I'm genuinely so confused. How can any of what Clover is saying make any sense whatsoever?

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," she responds, looking very worked up. How is she going to justify this?

"So you're saying that, before you invaded my privacy, you figured you'd just invade Michael's first, huh?" One of my hands rest on my hips, the other runs through my tied-up hair. "That it?"

"No Citria. It's not like that. I'll explain it from the beginning." She presses her head into her hands; she looks so frustrated with the situation at hand. It's almost as if she's getting sick of me. "So what I'm saying is, I went into your room to polish some of the stuff off, and I noticed there was a bad smell coming from Michael's bedside drawer. How neither of you noticed it was beyond me. But anyway, I opened the drawer to see what the smell was. I figured it would be ... I don't know, an old snack, or some socks or something. And I found a scarf."

"Okay. And what?" My arms fold, as I put all my weight on one foot.

"The scarf had blood on it, so I thought maybe one of you had maybe had a nosebleed before and used the scarf to help ease it a little. But once I moved the scarf to take it to be washed, I found a shard of pot that fell out of it. The pot looked like it came from a vase or something—"

"My vase that mom got for me?" I question rhetorically. Now I think of it, Michael broke the replacement for that vase too.

"Look, Citria. I was going to tell you last night, but I didn't want to upset you after you'd had such a lovely day with Michael. But the pot was very sharp, and ... it had blood on it. Multiple layers, in fact. I'm worried, Cit. I'm very worried."

"What are you saying?" My eyebrows knit together; I don't want her to say what I think she's going to say but I figure she may.

"I think Michael may be self-harming." She finally drops the bombshell I've been dreading to hear. "I checked your bedside desk to make sure he didn't have any other weapons in there."

It makes sense now, and admittedly I feel guilty. "I'm sorry Clover," I apologise. "I shouldn't have assumed. I should have known you wouldn't do anything with bad intentions." My eyes fill with tears, before my head falls into my hands. "How have I not seen this? How have I been so blind to my own boyfriend's pain? How stupid am I!"

"Hey, look. It's okay. We just need to talk to him. Tell him about the baby; it could help him to gradually feel better. He could get back on his feet and live the best life he possibly can." She checks her wristwatch. "We should go back home and talk to him. Let him know he isn't alone."

My eyes suddenly dart up. "What if he's harming himself right now?" I cry.

"Hey. I hid the piece of pot. He can't use that," I reassure her. "Although like an idiot, I've left the kitchen knives in their usual place. I just hope he doesn't remember they exist."

"We need to get home. I hope he hasn't done something stupid." Tears are blurring my vision by now, but I need to make everything right with Michael. He's my main priority right now; I don't want to lose him too — especially after everything that's already happened.

-Michael's Point of View-

"So where are your family now Michael, huh? Where are they now that I'm here with you, in your girlfriend's house?" He cackles like a true villain, making my blood boil. "I bet she doesn't even love you! I bet she's just faking it so she can try take some of the money once you're dead too! Don't you see that, kid? Are you really that stupid?"

Right now, I'm not even retaliating. He's probably right. Why would anybody truly love me after everything I've done in the last few months? I'm the scum of the earth, although Marco is no better. He's probably right that nobody wants to be there for me, because I wouldn't want to do the same for myself either.

"You know what, Marco?" My eyes fill with tears. "You're right. For once, you're actually right about that."

He almost looks surprised at what I'm saying, although he doesn't falter with trying to give me some home truths. "Your family probably loathed you for not being there that afternoon when they all got killed. Where were you! You didn't care about them and they don't care about you. You're all as sick as each other. You deserve to rot."

-Narrator's Point of View-

"Yes, Marco!" Michael finally cracks; it's a horrific moment, as he storms past Marco and into the kitchen. Marco follows after him quickly, trying to subtly bring out of his pocket, a pistol which he plans to use to kill the very last Jackson.

However, even Marco is surprised when Michael grabs a kitchen knife from its holder, and holds it in the classic stabbing position. "You're right Marco. I do deserve to rot. I don't deserve to be happy; I don't deserve Citria; I don't deserve a roof over my head. I don't deserve food or water, or sleep, or good health. I don't deserve any of it." He holds the knife close to his own chest, right around where his heart is. "And you can place your pistol down, Marco. You did enough damage with that. I'll save you the hassle with this one."

Marco keeps the gun firmly in his grip; he doesn't quite trust that Michael will go through with what he's threatening. "How do I know you're not lying?" he spits. "I'm not stupid."

"No. That's exactly the point, Marco. You aren't stupid. You managed to single-handedly kill everybody I've ever known and ever loved apart from two people. Who'd want to live with that? Not me. So I won't." A tear falls from his eye; a tear of many emotions. One of fear; one of regret; of sadness; of loneliness; of heartbreak; of sorrow; of guilt and anger.

"You win, Marco. Now all of the Jacksons will be dead. Just like you wanted."

With those words said, he plunges the knife into his own skin, stabbing until his breathing hitches a little. The pain floods in immediately, although he can barely move. He coughs violently, bringing up a bit of blood, much to Marco's satisfaction. He falls desperately to his knees, but before he can fall fully to the ground, he is caught from behind by somebody. Sirens are heard outside the house, and as Michael looks up, with blurred vision he notices Marco being arrested and taken away. His confusion as to how they found him is only beaten by the sharp sensation in his body from the wound he has created.

Unbeknownst to him, the incredibly-rare occasion had occurred when a passer-by had seen Marco enter the building and caught a glimpse of the fact he had a gun, and had called the police out of cautiousness in case anything were to happen.

"Sir, you're going to have to try and stay with me. Keep talking to me, alright? Can you give me your name please, sir?" a voice can be heard asking him.

In the haze, he faintly responds, "Mich-Michael Joseph Jackson ... " he breathes, slowly starting to lose consciousness.

"Your date of birth, Mr Jackson?"

"Aug...August twenty—twenty-ninth."

"Michael!" A cry can be heard from the back door of the building; Citria and Clover run into the kitchen, and Citria dashes to be by Michael's side. "Oh my g—what happened!" She cups his face in her hand, not caring about the blood staining her skin. "Oh my ... please be okay Michael ... "

"We need to get him to hospital as soon as we can," a paramedic assesses quickly as she arrives at the scene; her and her team carry him out on a stretcher.

"I'm coming with you," Citria cries, trying to keep calm for Michael's sake. "I'm coming with you, my angel."

She quickly rushes up the stairs to find something, before heading down to the kitchen again to catch up with everyone else. She then enters the back of the ambulance with her beloved Michael, holding his hand with hers and kissing them — a desperate plea for him to be okay.

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So that was the penultimate chapter guys! The chapter before the epilogue. I can't believe that this is basically the end of Forever and a Half; I've been writing this story for five years now!
So, what will the ending be? Will Michael be okay or not? It's the last chapter so anything could happen! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!