Behind the Plastic

The Light

        Hello! I am Jolly. Sister of the one and only disaster, Jack Sparrow, and daughter of a rich actor. I live next to my brohters flaming room and my house is stuck in darkness. I can go outside of course, but there is only one way to see the light from inside my house, and that would be the entrance to where I live, the "Pirates of the Carribbean" attraction at Disneyland. The people come in and I see their faces as they pour in at 8 in the morning. Why would I see them that early in the morning, one might ask. Well because my brothers room has finally driven me crazy. His room is the  one on fire. When riding through, one will pass through a room completely on fire with drunk pirates singing with joy as the supposedly burned a town. Well that town is my brother's room. I know, he gets the whole place to himself. The problem is that day and night it remains burning with fake orange light to make it seem like it is burning. My mom always told me I would get used to it, but today I couldn't handle it anymore. I needed to see the real light.

        I ran down the ride to where most people can see a parrot on a sword with a map behind him. That's where I am right now, hiding behind the map awaiting the light and the swarm of people to come racing in. They wont see me, though, don't worry. My dad worries about that too much. He always tells me, "Make sure the visitor don't see you, if they do we may have to live on the streets." I don't believe that one second. I could always pretend to be a Disneyland employee. The people would never guess. Well, if I was laying down, like I am now, they might not believe I was an employee. No matter, they wont see me, no one ever looks behind the map, I only have Annual Passholders to fear of finding me and thats exactly what happens.

        As I wake up from the light this beautiful morning I notice that all the visitors are looking at the parot, except one. Really? Why did they have to come this early? Why would an Annual Passholder come this early in the morning? Whatever the reason, she sees me and I have to do something. I quickly get up and act as if I was reaching something down here. I get the badge I always carry on me and place it in my hand as if I was an employee looking for my badge, then scurry back into the trees behind the map. I sigh. That was close. I looked through the bushes to see her attention towards the people rushing in and knew I was safe. She didn't look surprised. Maybe she fell for the trick. Or maybe she already knew about us. I'm sure people do. We are the ones that live here, the ones they envy. We are the machine actors. 

        What is a machine actor one might ask? Well, we are actors that play as machines one the attractions at Disneyland and California Adventure. Although, there are fewer actors in california Adventure, most of the machines there are actually machine. Some could also call us plastic since the machines are covered with plastic, but we are quite real. We only act like plastic machines, but we are real people and this is how we make a living. Long ago Walt Disney made these machines, but tsomething we all know about him is that he is magical. Well once he died and his light still flickered on in his room all the machines came alive in Disneyland. I suppose this sounds like some new movies I've heard about, but we don't go back to sleep, and the best part for me is, I can go outside and see the sun, the light that I have grown so fond of without being hurt. The trick is to go outside without being seen. We all figured out some time ago that we were not normal humans. One day as a curious machine actor was exploring the attraction he was on he ran into an employee. The head of the company and us machine actors came to an agreement and have been abiding by it ever since. 

        My father was that curious machine actor. He was the one to help create some of the agreements. One of those agreements being that we could not be exposed. Of course we were magic and it would get all too complicated if we did indeed become exposed to the world. Think of the headlines, "Disneyland taken over by zombies!" or even, "Walt Disney a real wizard?" Not to say that we are zombies, but we might as well look like them in our ruggad pirate costumes and lack of sunlight and social etticate. 

        Some Annual Passholders might know that we exsist. If they come here often enough and pay atention to the smallest details. In some way, I almost want them to find me.