My name is Lucille. Feel free to call me Lucy, but no one besides my fiancee and Shay tend to.
I am a gardener.
I have spent the last two years of my life being chased by a pyromaniac with an unhealthy obsession for Chuck Norris, and darkness wants to decapitate me and use my intestines as a grappling hook.
I do not live in an asylum, spending my days sucking on Lincoln Logs and drawing pink elephants with crayon, if you are wondering. Though I wish I could.
The moment my parents, formerly cheerful and happily married owners of a small flower shop, got torched to death by said pyromaniac, I would never again feel cozy and safe. I could choose to board myself up inside my house, but she would just burn it down with me inside. I could get myself committed to an asylum, but she would just sneak past and/or kill the guards and other patients and then kill me in my room.
So I ran and ran. I ran until my shoes blistered and busted open my feet, until my face was unrecognizable with dirt and blood, until even if she had chased me that far, I'd be crazy enough to just choke her with some vines and chuck her body over a highway.
She was still chasing me, though. She just hadn't caught up yet.
The pyro's name is Shay, by the way.
But this is probably confusing you. Even though I don't have the time to curl up on the sofa reading a nice story with good explanations, you certainly do.
I am a gardener.
I have spent the last two years of my life being chased by a pyromaniac with an unhealthy obsession for Chuck Norris, and darkness wants to decapitate me and use my intestines as a grappling hook.
I do not live in an asylum, spending my days sucking on Lincoln Logs and drawing pink elephants with crayon, if you are wondering. Though I wish I could.
The moment my parents, formerly cheerful and happily married owners of a small flower shop, got torched to death by said pyromaniac, I would never again feel cozy and safe. I could choose to board myself up inside my house, but she would just burn it down with me inside. I could get myself committed to an asylum, but she would just sneak past and/or kill the guards and other patients and then kill me in my room.
So I ran and ran. I ran until my shoes blistered and busted open my feet, until my face was unrecognizable with dirt and blood, until even if she had chased me that far, I'd be crazy enough to just choke her with some vines and chuck her body over a highway.
She was still chasing me, though. She just hadn't caught up yet.
The pyro's name is Shay, by the way.
But this is probably confusing you. Even though I don't have the time to curl up on the sofa reading a nice story with good explanations, you certainly do.
