I run around the huge world I'm in, seeing only flashing lights and hearing only soothing, gentle music.

It's absolutely perfect here ... but where is he?

It's been so long; way too long. All I long for is him, his gentle touch, his soothing words, his calming voice, his hypnotising smile. That's all I yearn for.

I could happily live life without anything else, just so long as he is with me. I need to see him.

Gravel crackling underfoot with every step I run, I scan my surroundings, only seeing bright colours, disorientating my senses.

He must be here. It's impossible that he isn't here. This is the one place he couldn't bear to be without. It's the place he calls home. The place I've known all my life.

Wherever Neverland is, he is there too.

He's Peter Pan; he never grows up; he lives forever; he cares for all children, but yet he carries a strong adoration for adults and elders, too. He loves everyone, and he's magic. Simply magic.

But where would he be?

This is a huge place; it'll take hours to find him.

I continue running, my pace gradually quickening, a sense of desperation invading my mind, just at that thought – that wonderful thought – of actually finding him here.

It's empty here, apart from me. The reason as to why all the bright lights and music is playing is beyond me. Maybe he knows I'm coming, so he's trying to make it special for me.

But I'm just one person. Why would he make the effort, just for one person?

No, perhaps there's more than one person here. Maybe I'm not alone. Who knows? Maybe a whole group of people are here – maybe we're all here for the same reason.

To see him.

"Where are you?" my desperate voice lets out quietly.

I stop in my tracks, seeing a carousel in front of me. It's rotating at a slow speed, and on every horse, a small child sits giggling, smiling, waving their hands in the air with glee – simply enjoying childhood.

This really is Neverland.

I stand and watch in awe, at the happiness visible on every child's face in this moment, and how carefree they must all feel.

The carousel continues its circuit, until, upon a dainty peppermint green horse, with a sunflower yellow mane and tail, I see him.

His arms are grasping the horse's mane, and a childlike smile is plastered on his face. His joyfulness is clear to see, just by the magical glint in his eyes, and even from here, I can hear his sweet, innocent giggles of pleasure.

He looks so happy; so carefree – maybe even more so than all the children combined.

And just at the sight of his face, I begin to tremble, but not from fear or fright – from an overwhelming feeling of excitement.

He hasn't seen me yet. He's too deep in the in-the-moment joy he's experiencing, just spending time with all these children, finally getting to live the childhood he missed.

But then, he spots me, and within the second, his smile grows wider – which I thought was impossible.

"You came!" he tells me breathlessly.

He makes the carousel stop, and leaps off his horse, and knowing he's coming over to me makes my legs feel like jelly.

"Michael," I breathe.

He reaches me, and before I say another word, I jump up, and he catches me in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as possible so we never let go of one another.

"I thought you would never come," he whispers in my ear.

This only makes me squeeze him tighter; it's been forever since I've felt his warmth, his touch.

I've missed him ... badly.

"Never let me go again," I plead softly.

He kisses my cheek, his warm lips instantly making my cold cheek feel as if it's melting.

"I was never planning to," he assures me.

Now I'm in his arms, the only feeling I feel is ... safety.

I'm safe with Michael.

*

My eyes open, and I scan my room frantically, for any kind of sign from him.

"Michael?" I call weakly.

At the realisation that it was all a dream, and that the Michael Jackson would never, ever meet me, I feel a deep, heavy pain in my heart, and I almost choke on my own feeling of sadness.

Reaching out, I take my remote, and shakily turn on the TV. The news channel pops up, and the breaking news headline instantly catches my attention.

... And so does the report that is being spoken about.

"It has been reported that the King Of Pop, Michael Jackson has died at the age of fifty due to an acute overdose of Propofol and Benzodiazepine..."

If I didn't feel terrible before, I certainly do now.

He's gone.

~~

Bit of a feels-ish one there for you. MoonwalkingKatie what did you think of this one? Hope you liked it anyhow. L.O.V.E. xx