Dear Michael...

Well... I know you probably might not read this, but I'm just going to write it anyway.

I would start this thing off by telling you my name...but I'm just such a shy kid, I'm more of someone who prefers nicknames. My friends call me Maddy most of the time, but I'm also called Panda by a few others. I don't entirely remember how I got the nickname of an animal, but I think pandas are cool and I had a panda necklace that I used to wear all the time before it broke. It got repaired, but I don't wear it anymore because I fear I would wreck it again.

So, with that out of the way, I think I should go on.

I don't know how, but you kept popping up in my life when I was little, and you still do now, more often though because I have turned into a fan of yours back in 2012.

I should really start from the beginning.

It all kicked off when I was about one or two years old, and I must've been watching Moonwalker back then, because I remember a small frame from the stop-motion claymation 'ABC' music video. And I must've watched Thriller too. But the lighting was kinda yellowish according to my memory. I either blame the lamps or the TV for that.

Then came the godforsaken 'baby dangle' spazzing on TV. From my memory, all you did was hold Blanket near the balcony and just let his feet over it for a second then put them back behind. My little 3-year-old self had no idea why somebody would put something like that on the news when all a famous man did was an innocent thing. But I know now why the media went nuts, as I have now seen the photos.

When I was four, I distantly remember somethig about you and those stupid Tom Sneddon allegations, but that's 99% vanished by the fact I still remember the day mom told me she divorced dad while taking me home from the beach one day in the car.

In my life, it was when all hell broke loose. Sadly ironic, considering hell was already loose in your life.

Earlier when I was about two or something, I had been diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome. The doctor said I wouldn't be able to recognise my parents, or even talk.

If that were true, I wouldn't be writing this now.

When I was five, I went to school for the first time and despite my good memories of it, I must've hated it, because mom found me in the nude under a shed. (Very embarrassing, I know.) I don't remember anything about that court case, but my grandmother sure does. She was watching it on TV and instantly knew you were innocent, because she saw your lip gently quivering, as if to cry. Bless her soul for knowing the truth.

A year later, I had been moved to another school, where I made great friends over a few years, but my first year in that school, I loathed it. The teacher was mean, and she even sided with dad, who refused to believe that I had Aspergers. I still remember crying from her. However, I remember that one time were in the same church sermon one time, just behind her. And I had said to her: "I forgive you." That left her in shock, and after that, I don't remember anything bad from her.

The next year, I finally got a hold on your music, ironically when I was having a stay at dad's. (I usually lived with mum with my older brother.) Dad was nice at first to me, and he had remarried the last year. Also, dare I say it, it was the same year my brother broke his arm. He also then moved to another house, and everything was fine at first.

But then, hell showed off. I still remember it well.

It was either around 2008 or '07 when I was skyping my mum and telling her if I did something bad around dad, he would take away the skype from me. I started crying. Then dad pretty much dragged me into his room and started yelling at me. I cried even more, and that was pretty much the last conversation with my mum before dad cut off all connection. I was missing mum, I cried into my pillow at night, and to top it off, my little half-sister was getting annoying. My only relief was the days at school, and just silently hoping that mum would come pick me up. That is something that's going to remain embodied into my mind for the rest of my life, that loudness and tone of voice still shakes me today.

Earlier in the same year or 07, I remember it was just a few more nights before I had to do another stay with dad, and I was begging mum not for me to go. I was crying my eyes out, begging her with all my might, but mum had to sadly say that I had to. I had then refused to believe I was her daughter and said if she sent me to live with dad, I was an orphan and my real parents were dead. I still remember saying this in front of her, before my bedtime, and my mum's failing attempts to calm me down. I think I remember going to bed with tears in my eyes that night. Even before that, I felt like I was suffering whenever I was at dad's place.

A year later, a breakthrough. Mum, my brother and I moved to Australia, on the 5th of July. My brother nicknamed it 'Our Independence Day', as America's one had passed the day before. But that didn't mean my family was in the clear yet.  

Another year later, when I was staying again for another 'holiday' at dad's, 'Bad' came on the radio, and we all danced and sang for a bit until the announcer had said you had passed away. I still remember the look of disbelief on his face as he turned on the TV. It was now this year I turned a good deal of attention to you, and watched and listened to your music and the music films you had done (except Thriller, I nearly made it one time, but Vincent Price's laugh scared the crap out of me) into the next year at school, until it wore off as court and rights on who should have me and my brother increased.

2010 was a year in which I count as one of my worst. I was being bullied, and it hurt badly, despite how many times I told the teacher. Then in October, I had enough and had a fight with my dad, my brother as a witness. I told dad everything I had cooped up for so long: his house felt like a prison, he was two-faced, and everything else that I can't remember now. Dad tried to reason with me, but I just stood up on my bed and was about to declare my newfound hate for him when he pushed me down on the bed, yelling in my face. When he left us to go to sleep at last, everything felt dark inside me, and I vowed to myself I would never tell anyone else about it.

That was easily broken as I told mum the next morning after I arrived home. I stopped writing my own name with my legal last name and adapted to my mother's maiden name. I didn't care if it wasn't legal, and despite teachers trying to sway me back, I stuck to it, and finally told my dad in the next 'holiday' that I hated him, and he started to listen to me a bit more, as previously, he only seemed to spoil my brother and my little half-sister (I had gotten a half-brother in the beginning of febuary) more than me.

That didn't mean you, dearest Michael, stopped popping up throughout my life.

'Man in the Mirror' and a couple of other songs got stuck in my head when I had gone to Europe in 2011, and jeepers, you stole a piece of my heart and mind and wouldn't let it go, no matter how much I was occupied with other things.

It wasn't till 2012 you really came back into my life. It was after watching something that made a reference to you that I became curious and searched you up again. I finally had the guts to fully listen to Thriller (I was still a scaredy cat back the to watch it, but I've seen at at last). I reckon 2012 is also one of the best years of my life, as though school worsened, my life outside it became better. I didn't have to see dad in NZ every holiday period any more after 2012 was done. Plus, the last of my hate was finally wearing off. My little half-siblings and my stepmother were on vacation somewhere else when I came to the last holiday with my dad in NZ, and we were now on good terms. It was almost the one time I came back happy from dad, I had gotten my first CD of you, Bad 25, and I fell head over-heels for you.

The only thing that ruined it was an arguement between him and me while driving somewhere.

Finally, after coming home to Australia, I bought more albums, I had gotten a few t-shirts from my friend, and bought some more. I learned to Moonwalk and spin with two feet on the ground. I bought clothes that I immediately thought that resembled your costumes (including gold pants, yes they had that for a while). I made more friends who were also fans of you on the internet. And, that year of the holiday of Christmas 2013, I had a four-day stay with dad, and for the first time, I had a happy holiday with him, and the hate was gone. I spent Christmas with my family in New Zealand, and my mom announced she was engaged to a family friend of ours. 2013 is one of the best years so far in my life.

So.

Why did I write this in the first place?

I guess it's just to say that we both have known pain on different levels, and that I know how you feel, but mainly, I just want to say thank you.

Michael, you're an awesome person, and nobody is ever going to beat your records. I have gotten help and gave help to and from my friends, internet and home, all thanks to you. I'm changing for the better. I'm looking at the man in the mirror and I'm making a change. It's a slow process, but I'll make it. You're a beautiful and handsome man and don't let anybody change that.

Thank you so much Michael.

Yours,

Maddy.

P.S. I LOVE YOU MOST