I work security at Disney World... well, I mean I did.

I work in security at Disney World, the happiest place on Earth. You’d be amazed at all the shit people pull that they don’t tell you about on the DVD extras. <br><br>I’m not supposed to be telling you this, so if you hear this, you didn’t hear it from me.<br><br>The park is divided into five sections: Main Street USA, Adventure Land, Frontier Land, Fantasy Land, and Tomorrow Land. That’s every inch of Disney World. There are always two security guards in each section, and we switch which one we’re in every couple of weeks so we don’t get too familiar with the regulars. We can’t have you sneaking in extra alcoholic beverages because you know your favorite security guard is a pushover.<br><br>I’ve been working here for four years. The first three years I spent as the park’s head of loss prevention (shoplifting, basically) at the Mall in Main Street USA. I know every shop there like the back of my hand. Every consumer product that Disney sells, every inch of every store, every trick that people use to shoplift in places that have no alleys. I caught over 300 shoplifters during my time there, and recovered over $20,000 in merchandise. Not bad for a small strip mall.<br><br>When a spot opened up in park security, I took the transfer without hesitation. The last year has been interesting. I’ve been in several chases, gone through three tasers, and narrowly avoided a lawsuit when I broke someone’s ankle.<br><br>But, I didn’t start noticing the disappearances until I worked in park security.<br><br>It was a kid, about 10 years old, in a bright red t-shirt and khaki shorts with a fanny-pack. He had a big bowl haircut and a smile that went from ear to ear. He was with two adults (his parents, I assumed) and a little girl with pigtails who couldn’t have been older than 6. They were all eating funnel cakes from the stand near It’s a Small World. I remember them because the little girl kept pulling on her mother’s shirt, telling her she wanted to go play in the ball pit. We don’t have a ball pit in Disney World. Usually, I would have stopped to help out and explain how to get to the McDonald’s back at the hotel, but the dad was wearing a gold wedding band and I figured the mom would know better.<br><br>A few hours later, I saw the family again, this time with an employee. The father was looking around frantically at the crowd, pulling on strands of his hair, while the mother held the little girl. The employee was taking notes. This time, the bowl-cut kid wasn’t there. I figured he had wandered off to an exhibit and they couldn’t find him, but the father was-description fit the one they give for kidnappings. I hung around for a while, mostly out of curiosity, and eventually a manager and a few security guards came to talk to them. They looked around for about half an hour, and then the family left with one of the guards.<br><br>That was it. I didn’t think about it again until the next day when I saw the little girl and parents again. The father was wearing a blue t-shirt and sunglasses, and the mom was carrying a clipboard, but it was the same family. Without the bowl-cut kid. The mom was talking to the same employee I saw last time, and she was pointing at different areas around the circle. The little girl was just eating another funnel cake. I pulled the employee aside and asked if they had found the kid the day before. “Did I miss it? Was he here the whole time?”<br><br>“Did you hear about the disappearance yesterday?”<br><br>I said I had seen the family talking to security.<br><br>“Well, this is the family. The kid never showed up.”<br><br>I couldn’t believe it. I had seen disappearances happen before, in other areas, but never anywhere near this long. Usually, we’d find the person inside an exhibit that didn’t have an obvious exit (like the Indiana Jones Ride), or in some secret passage (like the tunnel beneath Main Street), or with their head lodged in a statue (only once, but it was really weird). I had never heard of anyone just never showing up again.<br><br>The next day, I saw the family again. This time, they were being led by a manager in a blue suit and a security guard, and the mother was still carrying the clipboard. The manager and guard were pointing in various directions and nodding as the mother pointed on the clipboard. I followed them from a distance for a few minutes, until they went into the employee tunnel. I couldn’t follow them in there without getting in trouble, so I gave up.<br><br>I didn’t see the family again for two days. Then, I saw them all four, in the Reverberation Room in Tomorrow Land. The dad was wearing a green t-shirt, and the mom was carrying the clipboard again. My heart started racing when I saw the bowl-cut kid next to them. I immediately hit my radio to call the other security guards. This was as good of an outcome as I had ever heard of for a missing child. I describe this family on the radio, and which ride they’re in, and the manager comes on. “Did they (pause) all look like they were okay?”<br><br>“Of course! They all seemed really happy to be together.”<br><br>The manager gets off the radio and the security guards show up to tell me not to bother the family again. The mom is still holding the clipboard.<br><br>The next morning, I’m brought into the office before my shift starts. My manager and the head of security are there, “You’re doing great here, we really like you.” The head of security chimes in, “but don’t bother the family again.”<br><br>“Of course, did I overstep something when I saw them together again?”<br><br>“What do you mean?” He asks.<br><br>“I saw them, together, in Tomorrow Land, and-“<br><br>“I know you saw them.” He interrupts, hand on my shoulder. “But did you notice anything... different?”<br><br>I thought about how the dad was wearing different colored shirts every time I saw them, and how the clipboard was definitely different. It was thicker. “Is that a new clipboard?”<br><br>He squeezed my shoulder, “I think you’ve figured it out.”<br><br>“Figured what out?”<br><br>“They’re not the family you think they are. That’s why we don’t want you to bother them.”<br><br>I was so confused, “Who is it then? Do they work here?”<br><br>I was met with radio silence.<br><br>I started paying more attention to the family. I was never near enough to hear what they were discussing, but I always saw the mom writing on the clipboard. They were always eating funnel cakes. They were always in Tomorrow Land.<br><br>One night, after my shift was over and I still hadn’t started my uniform, I decided to snoop. I snuck into the tunnel beneath Tomorrow Land, where the family had gone on my first day. I figured there was some sort of office where they did their... whatever it was they did.<br><br>Instead, I found a room full of people identical to the family I had been watching. There were dozens, possibly hundreds. There were line after line of tables like you’d see in a school cafeteria, and hundreds of bowl-cut kids eating funnel cakes off of plates. There were clone mom’s and dad’s pointing at clipboards being held by other clone moms and dads. There were other employees walking around, pointing at groups of clones and nodding.<br><br>I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to be caught trespassing in an employee area. So I left, and went home.<br><br>The clones are why I’m writing this now. I don’t know what they are for. Or who they are. Or even what “they” is. I don’t know what happened to all of the bowl-cut kids and their clone families before them. But I know they’re down there, and I know the managers know, and I don’t want to end up down there too.<br><br>So I’m quitting, and if you ever come to Disney World, just remember, you don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes.<br><br>Edit: I thought you guys would appreciate this: I just got a message with the text “He said he wanted to go play in the ball pit.”