"What are you doing here?" I asked the brown-haired woman in front of me.
"I could ask you the same thing," replied Diana.
"Um… are we missing something?" asked a surprised, and very confused, pop star for the rest of the Jacksons.
Diana looked over to her husband. "I know this girl, Michael. She used to help her father take care of Billy after he was born." She quickly shifted her gaze back to me. "But her dad died two years ago, and I never saw her again."
Her forest-green eyes reflected light as it looked like she tried to fight back tears.
"I thought she was dead."
Now I know I did not expect that, huh? How do I know Diana, and why did she think I was ... um... pushing daisies? Well, it all started five years ago at the UCLA hospital.
UCLA Hospital – 9:15 p.m
June 10, 2005
A scream breaks the silence within the maternity ward. It was a frantic rush as the doctors and nurses flew down the halls with a woman in labor. She was breathing in and out hastily, crying out in pain whenever a contraction passed by. She was squeezing the hand of a certain doctor named Marcel Anthony Davis.
"Push, Diana. Don't stop, just push!"
She did what he told her to do, but the pain felt like it was tearing her inside out. She had never felt this kind of pain, not even with the birth of her firstborn, and it was beginning to take its toll.
"It … it's too hard. I need pain relief."
"No, Diana. You are doing fine, just keep pushing."
"No, I can't. It feels like … my insides… are being pulled out."
"Well, they're not. You can handle the …"
His voice trailed off as he felt a crushing pain travel from his arm, all the way up to his shoulder. He could hear his bones cracking as she strangled his hand into a claw-like shape. Her green eyes burned with pain and anger.
Not a pretty sight to see, folks.
Her breathing became deeper and more rapid as she continued to push. She looked him straight in the eyes and screamed.
"I NEED MORPHINE!"
Marcel knew if he did not comply with her demands, his hand would probably be snapped off. He looked at the confused nurses and interns who were still waiting for orders.
"Well, you heard her. Get me twenty-five cc's of morphine, stat!"
Three Years Later
Diana began to cry as she looked down at her son, Billy. He looked so peaceful, so angelic, as he laid there sleeping. Marcel knew exactly how she felt right now; he knew the pain of hearing that a loved one had cancer. He just never thought he would be the one to say it to anyone.
"I'm really sorry to tell you this. I know it is hard to take in all at once. I had to deal with this kind of cancer before, only I was in your shoes."
Diana looked up at him when he said that, her eyes showing the tracks her tears had created. He pulled a seat beside her and sat down, his curly hair bouncing as he did.
"Your wife? " Marcel just nodded, his throat suddenly becoming dry. "She had CML?"
"The same phase as your son. She was diagnosed six weeks after Travis was born. She died a year later."
Diana felt her heart tug as she thought about the pain he and April went through. She could only think of one thing to say.
"How old was she?"
"28, her birthday was the following week."
Marcel swallowed, thinking that he could push the sorrow and heartache back into the depths of his soul. He succeeded and smiled at the brown-haired mother that sat before him.
"But, don't worry, that won't happen to Billy; not as long as I'm around."
Diana looked at the hopeful doctor and could not help smiling at his confidence. He had the kind of smile that could raise anyone's spirits.
(A/N: Just like Michael)
It was the last smile she would ever see him give.
Monday, June 22, 2008
Diana looked at the newspaper again, still in disbelief with the news she just heard. The headline on the main page proved it.
University Doctor Found Dead in Home; Son and Daughter Still Missing
The world-renowned pediatric doctor, Marcel Anthony Davis, was found dead early Sunday afternoon in his Las Vegas home. He was shot twice: one in his left shoulder, another in his chest. The motive and shooter of the homicide are still unknown. He was found by UCLA intern, Henry Jameson, who noticed his absence at an employee luncheon he was to attend. Police also want citizens to be on the lookout for his 15- year- old daughter: April Nevada Davis, and 7- year- old son: Travis Apollo Davis.
If you know any more information or have a tip to give of the children's whereabouts, please call your local authorities.
Diana was shocked. There had to be a mistake, Marcel never made any enemies, and neither had his children.
Why?
She began to cry as she thought about his kind, gentle nature.
Why him?
She thought about the innocence that showed in the faces of his son and daughter. She sobbed harder as she remembered the fun that they used to share. To them, she was not just another stranger; she was family.
Why them?
