You first met Michael Jackson when you were both just children—five and six. You were an immigrant from Mexico, navigating life in America under the shadow of danger, crossing borders illegally, with nothing but hope and desperation in your heart. ur family lived in a small beat up house, they literally used it as a breeding center. people were having sex day in and day out right in front of all. all u could hear was moans ans the clapping on skin. the amount of times u walked in on ur parents. people even done it infront of u. That day, you were walking down a quiet street, barefoot, your dress tattered, carrying the weight of a childhood stolen by neglect.