destroying mickey

It was a Mickey Mouse mask and he loved it. His mother had bought it for him for the first Halloween he would remember and somehow, his mother’s love and affection seemed intermingled with the pressed plastic that was formed and colored in the likeness of Mickey Mouse. He didn’t quite understand what it was all about but he went along and it turned out to be so exciting and fun. One night, after the sun fell and it was completely dark out, when under normal circumstances he may have gone to bed, his parents instead took him to his best friend’s house. When he got there he found that his best friend also had a similarly pressed plastic and colored mask but one that was in the image of Tweety Bird. Walking in the neighborhood so late at night with so many other masked and costumed children seeking out candy from friendly neighbors and strangers made it seem like all of the normal rules of life that he had learned to that point had suddenly been suspended for this night for no apparent reason other than for the purpose of suspending them. It didn’t make sense but it didn’t have to because it was so much fun. A few days later, he was home and had his mask in his hands. He still loved the mask and cherished the love and affection from his mother that it seemed to possess but he knew that its purpose was specific to the night that had passed. He wasn’t sure where the scissors had come from and whether he had sought them out or if they had just been near and he’s not sure why he began to cut the mask but upon the first slice with the scissors, something came over him. There was something about the feeling when he squeezed his hand and the scissor sliced through the plastic. It was a certain and distinct texture that he could feel in the way the plastic gave way between the scissor’s blades. The plastic was firm to a point but then separated between the blades in a softness that he could feel as if the sensitivity of his fingertips extended to the edge of the scissor’s blades. As he felt the cutting and slicing of the plastic a euphoric glow emanated from the experience in the form of a shape he could feel with his whole body but a shape he could not explain. It felt so unique and new that he continued to apply the scissor’s blades to the mask, slicing and cutting, savoring that texture between the blades, feeling the shape of the glow that emanated from some mystery that he wanted to grasp. To continue feeling the glow and it’s shape he had to keep cutting and slicing even though he knew that at the same time he was destroying the mask and in some way violating what he loved most about it. When the mask was in pieces and the glow had faded he stopped and felt regret fill the space where the glow had been. It was heavy and uncomfortable, weighing him down in yet another new experience that seemed to cast a shadow over everything else. The mask, the magical night, his feelings of excitement all became reminders of what he ultimately did to the mask and the symbol of his mother’s love and affection.