I thought I was going to die.  A tornado was barreling towards me, and it was out for vengeance.  I escaped death the first time, but I wouldn’t be so lucky this time around, I thought.  As the tornado was coming to vanquish me, I thought about my life as a whole, and all my life choices.  I realized I made so many mistakes; too many mistakes for one person to make.  As the tornado was rushing toward me I came to terms with dying and I was ready to move on.  But first let’s go back to where this all started, just 24 hours earlier.

“Bye mom,” I hollered up the stairs.

“You better eat your breakfast, Derrick!” my mom yelled back.

“I will,” I answered as I left my half eaten breakfast on the table.  The sun was nowhere to be seen, being blocked by the gigantic skyscrapers in the sky.  The streets were bustling and hustling with people like ants trying to scavenge for one piece of food.  Everybody had their own agenda in mind; one person strumming his guitar trying to make an extra buck, a robber hoping to slip a valuable out of somebody’s pocket when they aren’t looking.  Then there was me; a CEO of a failing company.

The arrival to my office never gets old; all my workers standing up waiting for me like puppies waiting for their food.  Once I signal for them to sit down they are off to work like a hive of bees. 

“Good morning, Boss!” my assistant Eugene exclaimed enthusiastically

“Hello Eugene, what’s the latest news?” I asked, sounding as bored as I was.

“Oh nothing much,” he said and then paused slightly.

My ears perked up; Eugene never paused in the middle of his sentences. “Eugene what is it,” I asked with a curiosity in my voice.

“Nothing, Boss,” he responded and then tried to scurry off.

“Not so fast,” I mumbled as I grabbed him by his collar like a dog.

“Eugene,” I asked more forcefully.

“Okay, Boss; we have an unhappy customer,” he revealed.

“Eugene, what do you mean unhappy customer?” I asked in a voice full of less anger than it should’ve had.

“Well, you see, he walked in about an hour ago looking for you, and he won’t talk to anybody but you,” Eugene said.

With this news in my head I strolled into my office like I was going on a Sunday walk. There was a man standing there at 6ft 3in, and at least 300 lbs.  He was as tall as a giant, and as heavy as a dump truck, and immediately I knew who it was.

“How are you today, Mr. Franklyn?” I asked politely.

“Well actually I’m pretty terrible to be honest,” he stated matter factly.

“Why is that?” I asked with curiosity growing in my chest.

“Well, you see, the watch you claimed was “high tech” is malfunctioning,” he claimed.

“I want all my money back; a refund you could call it,” he stated with authority.

We’ve gotten more complaints more and more about our technology recently.

“Okay, I’ll grant you a full refund,” I stated, not really caring at all.

Riiiiinnng, Riiiiiinnnng the phone blared; I picked it up and calmly said, “Jones Incorporated; this is Derrick Jones speaking, and how may I help you?”

“Hello there, I’m from the Kids 4 Life; would you like to donate to help a kid get fed and have clean water to drink?” the person on the phone remarked.  “Your donation will be greatly appreciated, our business is going to close if we don’t get enough money for rent.”

“Sorry, I can’t,” I replied regretfully.  Knock, knock a hand slammed on my wooden door.  “Come in,” I shouted.

“Boss, we have another problem on our hands,” Eugene came bursting in declaring with sweat dripping from head to toe.

“Okay I’ll be right there,” I answered, wondering what could be so urgent.

Once I stepped out of my office I felt like I was in a circus; everybody was running around frantically like crazed monkeys.  Then I saw why everybody was in panic.  A menacing tornado was heading right toward the huge skyscraper we were all currently residing in. 

“Everybody, it is just a tornado.  Please exit down the stairs in an orderly fashion,” I said with a sense of calmness in my voice.

 I was slowly walking toward the stairs when I spotted a man.  He wasn’t moving, so of course I had to check out if he was alright. I slowly approached the man.  Once I realized who it was I yelled, “WAKE UP!!!”  The man abruptly awoke. “Carl, what are you doing?” I asked with no panic in my voice.

“Ummm, nothing boss,” Carl responded groggily.

“Well, if I were you I would get out of here,” I said casually.

“What is it Boss?” Carl asked still not fully awoken from his nap.

I pointed toward the tornado coming toward us like a bull charging toward a red flag.  His eyes bulged out of his sockets, and he was gone before you could say tornado.  So now I was left alone in a skyscraper with a tornado with a full head of steam charging toward me. 

I started to slowly walk to the stairs, but by the time I got there I realized I would never make it to the basement.  So I picked up my cellular phone and dialed my home telephone number.  Riiiiinnnng.  Riiiiinnnnng.  Riiiinnng. 

“Hello,” my mother’s sweet calming voice answered.

“Hi Mother, it is me; everything is fine; just wanted to tell you I love you,” I replied calmly.

“Okay, is that all you wanted to tell me?” she asked with curiosity in her voice.

“Yes, just wanted to hear your voice.  I love you,” I exclaimed.

“I love,” is all she got out before the signal was lost.  The tornado already consumed the building right next to the one I was in.  My emotions started to flow out of me.  A river of tears surrounded me like a pond; that’s the last thing I did before the tornado swept me into it.

The outside of a tornado is way worse than inside a tornado.  Everything was spinning like a top, and every so often something was thrown out like trash.  Eventually I would be thrown out, so I waited and closed my eyes, waiting to be rendered no longer useful; I waited.

When I came to I thought I was dead.  I was on a sidewalk with people walking around me like I was a piece of chewed gum.  Palms sweaty, knees buckling, I slowly rose up and started to walk around.  I thought I was in heaven, but then I saw something weird.  A boy was selling newspapers, and one of them had flown away.  Before he could snatch it up I started reading it: “Michael Jackson’s Thriller Music Video Released Tonight!”  Then I saw the date, December 2nd 1983.  Shock overcame me, and I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you okay sir?” the newspaper boy asked.

“What is the year?” I asked, hoping he didn’t answer the way I thought he was going to answer. 

“1983, sir,” the boy answered with concern in his voice.

“Thank you,” I answered and then ran off.

I have to get my head on straight, I thought.  Who do I know in 1983? I thought.  All my relatives were originally from Britain; I immigrated to the US when I was  eight years old.  Frustration washed over me; well I guess I’ll have to do this the old fashion way. 

While I was walking down the street panicking I passed by a movie theater.  The movies had names I’ve never heard, like Scarface and The Outsider.  This made me wonder like an adopted child about what those movies were about.  But this sudden sensation was overcome by the need to get home.

I went door to door trying to act as polite as I could.  Nobody would let me into their homes; I don’t blame them.  I wouldn’t let a stranger into my home.  After about 100 houses of the same response I was losing hope.  I decided this house would be my last before I was going to sleep outside.

Knock Knock Knock my hand went as it struck the wooden door.  The door opened; it was an elderly woman who answered.

“Hello there, my name is Derrick Jones, and I was wondering if I could stay in your house for just one night?” I asked for the 100th time, but this time I got a different answer. 

“You can stay as long as you want,” the nice old lady stated.

“Thank you so much,” I said with a sigh of relief.  She let me in, and as I walked through her door gratitude came to mind.

“Thank you so much,” I repeated constantly.  While I was walking around I heard other voices.  I was almost positive she lived alone; then I discovered what was making all those noises.  A television was sitting right on her kitchen counter.  What was on the screen intrigued me; there was a countdown.  The countdown was for the Thriller music video; I guess that was a big deal in 1983.  I hadn’t realized the time; 11:59 read a koo koo clock.  I decided to stay up and watch with the old lady what this Thriller music video was all about.   The countdown reached one, and the clock struck midnight, and the music video started.

As quick as a rabbit the music video drew me in.   Heavy breathing, a title screen with Thriller and Michael Jackson written above it greeted me. A girl and a guy (Michael Jackson) appeared on the screen in a car, and the car ran out of gas.  Instantaneously I thought they were going to go into a barn and do it, thanks to the 21st century.  

A little bit into the music video I saw the dancing scene, the scene where Michael Jackson is a zombie and he is dancing with other zombies.  This made me think about how much hard work and effort it took to organize this music video.  It looked like they spent one million years working on it.   Seeing the choreography, and how all the dancers were so in sync, it was just breathtaking, like a blind man seeing for the first time.  I looked over to the elderly woman, and she was gawking at the screen.  I realized how amazing this was for her as she had been alive for 80 years at least. 

“This music video is something I’ve never seen before,” she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

The music video was life changing; it opened my eyes to a whole new world.  That was the world of hard work and dedication.  I was so inspired by the music video that I was determined to make something of my company once I got back to 2016.  That was the other problem at hand, getting back home where my mother and father were.   

Almost on cue a tornado warning popped on the screen.  My eyes bulged out of my skull; round two, I thought.  The wind started to pick up, and I saw what frightened me like a dog in a thunderstorm.  A tornado bigger than the last one was speedily moving toward me.  I thought I was going to die.   I had escaped death the first time, but I wouldn’t be so lucky this time around, I thought.  As the tornado was coming to vanquish me I thought about my life as a whole, and all my life choices.  I realized I made so many mistakes; too many mistakes for one person to make.  As the tornado was rushing toward me I came to terms with dying, and I was ready to move on.  The tornado swept me up the second time, and my mind shut down like a computer.  One last time I thought as I closed my eyes, and waited. 

“Honey, wake up!” my mother whispered in my ear.  Slowly I rose, thinking I was in heaven. 

“Hi mom,” I said as I touched her and felt her hands.

“You slept in today; you have to hurry and go to work,” my mom declared, rushing me out of bed.

“Wait what,” I responded.  “Aren’t I dead?” I asked.

“Honey, are you okay?” my mother asked.  “Do you have the flu?”

“No mother, I’m fine,” I said as relief fluttered into me.  “Just a bad dream I guess,” I added.

I called in sick to work and decided to do some research on the Michael Jackson Thriller music video debut.  I pulled out a piece of paper and started writing furiously.

The music video was a huge deal

Considered a short film not a music video 

Told a story within the music video

Aired on MTV

Music video cost $500,000 to create

2016 $500,000 equals about $1 mil

Usual music video in 1983 cost $100,000 

to  make

13 million people watched the premiere              from their home

After the debut music video was played twice every hour the demand was so high 

John Landis directed the music video

Michael Peters dance choreographer

Private premiere on November 14, 1983

Dance choreographer Michael Peters

Thriller album released November 30, 1982

Broke MTV racial barriers

First music video inducted to Library of            Congress’s National Film Registry

Within first five days of Thriller music video broadcast 600,000 albums sold

Helped Michael Jackson become megastar he            is today.

Michael Jackson, with help from the Thriller music video, united people of all races.  I wanted to do something like that too, so I decided to make my company the best.  First things first I can’t be the cool boss anymore, I have to “crack the whip” as some people would say. 

The day after my sick day I let nobody roam free and do whatever they wanted.  Once people actually accomplished stuff we were able to pay our rent.  Now my business is supplying wealthy buyers with high tech, non-malfunctioning, advanced technology.

Half of our profits go to the charity Kids 4 Life.  Kids 4 Life supplies kids who aren’t able to afford water or food just that.  I feel like Michael Jackson; I’m making a difference in the world. 

-Grace McFerran