Clubhouse - a Mickey Mouse story

44

Max laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't slept since he visited Minnie that day.
It was noon. He could hear Donald and his dad downstairs, talking about him.
"What should we do?"
"I don't know. Do you think he's alright?"
"Goofy, he's been in that bed for days. Staring at the walls. Obviously he's not."
Max tried to drown it out. He thought of Minnie and how she looked; horrible. She looked sick and tired. He was genuinely worried about her.
How could she tell him she loved him just to make him leave and never come back?
Could he go back? Would he?
He blinked his bloodshot eyes and rose from the bed. He started packing his things.
Of course he would. And he would tonight. Tonight, when everyone was asleep.