Clubhouse - a Mickey Mouse story

52

Week nine.
Minnie Mouse's heart stopped when she saw the day on her phone screen. She'd stopped counting them off because it made every day seem like a weight on her chest, and she couldn't stand it anymore.
The time is now, she thought.
She dressed again in all black, her face concealed with a big hat. She kept her head low as she walked the streets, she always did. When she got to Dr. Jones, he greeted her with a sloppy kiss that made her sick to her stomach.
One time, she said to herself. One time and he thinks he owns me.
"You're ready?"
"I suppose I am."
She didn't like to think about needles. She kept her eyes shut tight and one hand behind her back, one hand clutching the edge of the bench.
She couldn't tell if it hurt or not, she was concentrating so hard on turning her knuckles white or better yet blue. She hardly heard Dr. Jones say he was done when she let go, and her hand hadn't changed because she was wearing fucking gloves.
"Thank you, Minnie," he said as she left. "I should be able to get back to you in one or two days."