Mickey Mouse wasn’t Real … Help!

Mickey Mouse wasn’t Real … Help!

There was a beautiful woman strolling a pram who smiled as I approached her. There were people walking. She pecked her lips on fairy-floss with blue eyes. Perfect, I thought. We needed a vacation from our lives.

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I surprised the family with a holiday vacation for the weekend at Walt Disney World Resort. Rachel and I took photos on our phones of our daughter Elle as she played. My wife tagged me in a photo of Elle on a kiddie roller coaster and she was screaming.

“Where now, babe?” Rachel asked.

Have you felt euphoria from exploring theme park attractions? Sure it was good the first half an hour until our daughter cried. Her diaper was fall and Rachel asked to find a toilet.

Elle played her fingers in fairy-floss like cobwebs. We strolled the pram past a Miky Mouse character who danced for our attention. We didn’t have time because Rachel was focused on Elle’s whimpering.

We returned sometime after and walked past the mouse. His big white gloves reached over his mouth. Two black eyes were fixed on the head: but his head bopped to his excitement. Oh god, I thought.

“Dad-ee!” Elle shouted.

My wife rolled the pram to the mouse. It leaned in and waved to my daughter. I watched from the side with arms crossed but shoved them into my pockets when I saw Rachel smile. The mouse looked at me and I thought I saw his eyes shift. He placed a hand over his mouth and I broke out of silence.

Rachel handed her phone so I could take a picture of them with Mickey Mouse. I used mine instead and focused on the mouse as it reached its gloves behind its back and stood between the pram and my wife. His big smile and eyes fixed on the camera.

I pointed out to Rachel that the costume had blue trousers and red shoes. His giant gloves waved goodbye as we examined him. Rachel waved with Elle and she ignored my rough criticism. The mouse looked away and leaned in with two children for a photo.

I wanted Elle to smile for the picture, I think she didn’t like the mouse as much as me. Rachel said it was fine and we waved goodbye to the mouse. The mouse’s eyes felt like they were fixed on us as we walked away.

We had lunch in the afternoon and decided to return to our bedroom. Walking around was tiring and Elle fell asleep in her pram. What creeped me out was the doll Elle wanted at a store. Out the front, there was a display of Mickey dolls. Red trousers and yellow shoes as I suspected.

My daughter carried the doll around the kitchen, into the toilet and soon fell asleep cuddling him. My wife’s smile faded as she watched me awkwardly fold the pram. I guess she sensed the mouse still lingered on my mind.

“Mickey was playing with you. You were daydreaming, Hun.” Said Rachel.

I told her what I saw, she did not reply. I told her I saw his eyes following us away, the color of his pants and shoes. We stayed inside the apartment that night. The service lady showed us to our room and my wife was happy with the result. A weekend away from work for both of us. And when Elle was asleep, my wife and I would spice things up.

The day I woke up to find that there was a glove on Elle’s bed. She rolled over to catch my stern face. She chuckled and reached her arms to my head as I leaned in, like a cat I let her tangle in my hair. I took a look at the glove.

Maybe this was from the cot, a piece left behind by the cleaners? Or maybe I was so excited for bed that I didn’t notice when examining the room. I tucked the glove into a pocket and boiled the kettle where I watched my wife emerge from the bedroom.

Elle emerged from the bedroom tucked under her Mum’s neck. The baby girl was carried across the room and past the counter where I made a coffee. She didn’t see me but looked the other direction each step of the way.

Rachel collected her keys and said she’d return later. She had to visit a store to buy more milk. When she left I felt the glove between my fingers buried inside my pocket.

I made my coffee and walked to the table. I looked out the window and watched people on the fourth floor. There was something happening near the car park. A police car and tape was set around bins. Two other men were putting up shade sails. I watched and felt my tummy twist.

I placed down the cup, pulled out the glove and I saw dried blood on the tips of the glove. There was a silence, a pricing sound of blood coursed in my ears. I knew I must have missed something. I looked beneath her pillow, under the blankets and ducked under the bed.

Nothing. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos from yesterday. I sat up and coughed. There were pictures of children playing, parents on their phones and taking pictures, and in just about every photo there was a mouse stood nearby.

He stood tall and faced the camera. His smile poking between the crowds. On the final image, I opened to find a girl in a pram. A woman dealt change with the owner and huddled around the floss machine.

Elle’s pram faced away and her head pointed over a shoulder. I saw her hair and button nose pointed to a mouse. Mickey Mouse stared at the girl on his knees with a wave.

My guts swirled as I spotted the mouse in every photo, following us around the theme park. Rachel sent a text, Elle’s missing.

Submitted May 20, 2019 at 05:38PM by IsaacJMadigan

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