It was a normal night in the Jackson house hold. The children were asleep, the alarm system was set. Every door closed and every window locked. The air was clear and the crickets making soft music. But suddenly, there was a loud CRASH.
Michael Jackson had stumbled over a very expensive vase. He didn't wince even once as he walked awkwardly through the long halls. He was sleepwalking!! In his dark blue pajama bottoms and long sleeve silk shirt, he made his way into the kitchen.
The phone rang. The woman groaned, wondering who in the world was calling at 2:00 in the morning. Her long slender fingers clutched onto the phone and picked it up, putting it to her ear.
She yawned as she sat up.
"Hey Janet..." Michael said casually.
There was a pause.
"Hey. Is that how you greet your big brother?"
Another long pause.
"Michael, it's 2:00 in the morning. Is something wrong? Do you need me to come over?"
"Nothing's wrong. I was just hoping you'd come over so we can go sight seeing. I'm so curious about this city." He said. "Michael, I love you with all my heart, but I don't think that's a good idea. You know. Paparazzi and fans. Especially when it's the middle of the night." Janet sighed.
The phone disconnected.
"Michael?" The woman spoke into the phone. "Michael?" She repeated herself.
Michael walked outside and into his garage. Instead of a car, he randomly picked out his bike and started riding it until he made it to the gate to his house. He opened it and he was unconsciously out for a stroll! He was in the middle of a dark highway on his bike, making his way into the streets of Las Vegas. Fortunately no cars were on the street. Once he got into the public, He dumped his bike next to a bush and started walking around aimlessly. His eyes had no expression in them.
Michael seemed to appear well, awake! People watched him stroll in awe. Most of them stared and whispered to each other asking if that was really Michael Jackson walking casually in his pajamas in public in the dead of night. There weren't a lot of people there, so it wasn't like he was being hoarded with fans.
A teenage girl ran over in front of Michael and smiled. The sleepwalking man looked at her and stopped not saying anything.
The girl stuttered, "C-c-can I have your autograph? I'm a big fan of your music."
There was a pause.
Michael reached into his pocket and took out a yo-yo.
"Play with this..."
He yawned, walking past her. Dumbfounded, she looked at the toy and watched the man walk off curiously.
About a half hour of his walk, the paparazzi started raiding in. Someone had tipped the press. A couple reporters and photographers ran up to him and soon after flashes of light went everywhere. Michael's hair was all messed up and his eyes were half closed. One reporter approached him and spoke into the microphone.
"Michael Jackson, what brings you to the city of Las Vegas, New Mexico?" The man didn't respond other than wincing at the flashes of light. "Could you stop flashing that light at me?" He asked as kind as he could. But the flashes didn't stop. Asleep and a bit frustrated, he started continuously walking on. "Michael! You didn't answer my question!" The reporter chased him. Without notice, Michael stopped and turned to the reporter.
"Pizza." He answered flatly.
The man questioned, "Pizza, Mr. Jackson?"
"Do you know where I can get good pizza?"
Nobody answered. But the reporter couldn't just not answer.
Before he could answer Michael forwarded on. The Paparazzi stayed hot on his trail shouting out random questions. He barely even noticed them as he walked across a busy street.
Later on, he managed to find an empty ally. Michael awkwardly walked into the ally as the paparazzi continued to follow, taking pictures. Michael was starting to find a secluded place to go to the bathroom, IN THE ALLEY. He turned to see reporters still taking pictures. "Hey a little privacy please?" He asked quietly.
The reporter from before shooed off people. The world didn't necessarily need to watch Michael Jackson whiz on an old news paper next to a dumpster in an alley, when he didn't even know he was doing it. Some photographers took only a few pictures of his back side, WHILE he was whizzing. So it did go out in public.
The next morning, Michael woke up in his bedroom completely unaware of his night activities. He yawned and sat up. The phone rang right next to his bed. The man picked it up.
"Michael Joseph Jackson explain yourself!"
Michael had a dumbfounded look on his face.
"Excuse me? Janet??" He choked.
His sister sighed in understanding as she watched the news in her condo.
"Turn on the TV to channel 6. The paparazzi has video tape of you taking a whiz on some newspaper in an alley last night!"
Michael's eyes widened and adrenalin started pumping through his veins. He scrambled to his feet and started to look for the remote. Once he found it he turned it on to the news.
A news reporter announced, "Michael Jackson was seen walking around in his pajamas last night, apparently just out for a walk. There are rumors claiming he was merely sleepwalking, according to a witness. She had come up to Mr. Jackson asking for an autograph. Instead of an autograph, he had given her a yo-yo."
He raised his eyebrow.
"Janet, I think I was sleepwalking. I have no memory of any of this." He choked.
The news then showed footage of himself whizzing on newspaper.
There was a long pause. Janet started to crack up laughing! Michael grinned, and put his hand to his temple. "Oh my gosh. I hope this doesn't effect anything..." He laughed. Once Janet was able to talk from laughing, she said, "All you have to do is explain to everyone you were sleepwalking." Michael rolled his eyes.
He turned his eyes to the television again. "Oh, on one last note... The police had found his bike in some bushes near the square. They had found his driver's license in the fanny pack on the bottom bar of the vehicle. It will be accessible to him once he finds out about this whole ideal."
"So that's why my feet hurt.." He mumbled.