:D

I remember first seeing pictures of Gooby. I was nine years old. It was in an old book I got at an antique shop, from the 1500s. A stained and crumpled sketch of his brown matted fur, wide eyes and signature flannel scarf. It was then that the image came to life before my eyes. His clawed fingers reaching through the page, scratching and grabbing at me. I didn’t sleep a day. Now, I am in my 30s. I think of his torment every now and then, I remember his attempts to attack me, to kill me. Faded memories of his dark eyes, of his disgusting rotted yellow teeth. His growling voice threatening me. Therapy doesn’t help. Nothing helps. I need to obliterate Gooby. He’s ruined my life.