Rachel's post made me sad

Hello, creatures made with various chemicals in such the right degree as to make life possible!

Rachel's last post made me sad.

Why?

Because...

Because.........

Because.............

I'm terrified of gnomes.

This movie is my worst nightmare come true

She knows that, too, and did that on purpose. She knows. And she is terrible.

You may ask why, I, the most wonderful girl on the Bucketsphere would be afraid of Gnomes. And, I may punch you in the face for being impertinent.




So, my mother used to have a small garden around a giant tree in my front yard. In this garden was a lawn gnome. Just a normal gnome, all standing around looking like an ugly badass. Red cap, all that good stuff.  I was about 15. Ah, 15, such a good age. Every night spent at Rachel's house. My Prefrontal Cortex was small and my Amygdale was large...the teenage years were awkward and beautiful. I would come home each night, none the wiser that the Gnomes were planning their assault.


Their evil plan...for revenge.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN

Each morning, I would wake up, happy and delighted to BE ALIVE. My backpack slug over one shoulder, like the cool cat I was. Walk out to the bus stop at the end of my driveway.

Glance over.

Whats that?

What...whats that?

Wasn't that gnome under the tree yesterday?

Well, its still under the tree today, technically...but wasn't it inside the bricks?

Then the bus would come and I would depart for a wonderful day of learning. The next day, wake up, sing a beautiful song, birds flocking to my shoulders. Look over, smile still fleeting on my lips...

WHY WASN'T THE GNOME UNDER THE TREE ANYMORE. ITS NOT EVEN VAGUELY UNDER THE TREE, ITS NEXT TO THE DRIVEWAY NOW OH GOD WHATS GOING ON.

And then I got on the bus and departed, mentioning to nary a soul of my terrifying discovery.

Each day...each damned day...hell was wrought closer and closer to my safe haven. My only sanctuary was my room, my safety based on the knowledge that gnomes cannot open doors. They are too short to reach the knob, too fat to fit under the door. I was safe.

I was safe...

Until I wasn't.

One fateful morning, the gnome, the evil hoarder of pain and suffering, was staring at me through our front door. His eyes locked with mine and it was over. I was dead. I knew he would stop at nothing to end my life...unless I ended his first.

How do you end the life of Satan's Incarnate?

My end was imminent. I wished my family a good life, whispering goodbye to each friend, saying prayers under my breath. Then, I did all I could do...I went to bed.

I woke the next morning to what I expected. There he was, on my bedside stand.

Staring at me, just like so.

"I hate you," his eyes conveyed.

"I will destroy you," his body seemed to venomously creep out

How did he get in here? I contemplated this while staring straight at the red cap of my killer. This was my last second on Earth. I would miss my family. I hope they would feed my cat. Otherwise she'll just stare accusingly at them.


The gnome crept closer and closer. Each second seemed a lifetime.

And then I remember darkness. When I awoke, I was here. On the Bucketsphere.

I loathe gnomes for what they have done...

And Rachel seriously shouldn't exploit that. Not cool, bro.