I wrote this story when I had an hour of free time. I wrote it completely for fun, and I was pretty bored, but I wanted to know what you guys thought of it! Enjoy!

"Okay, her car's out of the driveway! All clear!" I heard my best friend Eddy yell. I uprooted my butt from the mulch that Ms. Gill had placed me. I walked into the front yard, and saw Eddy stroking his white beard.

'We only have a half hour, Ben! She's just going to get dog food and milk!" Eddy said. "You need to learn how to get here faster!" Eddy said. While he was yelling, his pointy red hat fell off of his head. He picked it up, ruffled his hair, and carefully put it back on.

"Her dog always kicks dirt around my feet when he does his business. It's getting harder to get up." I said.

You may be wondering why Eddy and I sit outside all day, and have white beards and red pointy hats. No, we aren't Santa Claus decorations that our owner was too lazy to bring inside. We're lawn gnomes, the one foot tall heroes that protect gardens everywhere. Ms. Gill bought Eddy and me about 3 years back when they were 2-for-the-price-of-1 at Home Depot. I got the backyard and he got the front, and whenever Ms. Gill goes out, Eddy and I go and hang out.

Eddy and I once had snuck into the house while Ms. Gill had gone to Florida for the winter, and we swore we'd never again go inside. All we could see was portraits of cats, and the house smelled so strongly of potpourri that we could hardly breathe. Eddy and I were never the same after that. Everything we smell has a hint of flower-scented potpourri added to it's aroma.

Ms. Gill was 72 years old. She had a demon dog named Pudding, and he always tries to bite my hat off when he goes in the backyard. One time, Pudding made me so mad that I took a swing and hit that little furry rat right on the left side of his nose. Ms. Gill always wonders why one of Pudding's nostrils is smaller than the other.

Pudding is the only thing that has ever seen me come to life. Nobody else has ever seen me move. Have you ever wondered why it seems like the eyes on paintings or statues seem to follow you? Well, you're not actually going insane, those little eyes are actually following you. If you stare at something for 16 hours straight, you watch pretty much anything that moves.

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for about 5 minutes now," Eddy said, staring at me with a confused look on his face.

"Yeah, fine! Just thinking," I told him.

'You have 16 hours to think a day. You can't talk to me for a half hour?" Eddy said, looking hurt.

Before I could answer, Anya, a ceramic flamingo from across the street, screamed to us.

"Get back! Get back! She's home early! There must have been a short line at PetSmart!" Anya screamed. I ran as fast as my stubby legs could carry me back to my place, and just made it. I heard screeching brakes in the front of the house. That's strange; Ms. Gill is such a careful driver. I heard Anya and Eddy squeaking. Squeaking is a small sound that all lawn ornaments make if they are in any danger, and Ms. Gill never did anything to harm Eddy or Anya.

I inched my way to the front yard, and peered around. Anya and Eddy were in the arms of a middle-aged man, and a mini-van was parked in front of the house. I would have taken his license plates- that is, if I could read.

I gaped as I saw the man place Anya and Eddy in the mini-van, and drove away.

I stood alone for days. Pudding didn't come outside anymore. I would hear Ms. Gill talking to herself inside. I wondered if I would be staying in this yard any longer.

About 9 days after Eddy and Anya's kidnapping, I decided I couldn't just stand around and mope. I knew what I had to do- go into the front yard. I couldn't run as fast as car, and it was unthinkable to call the police. I had no choice-I had to leave Ms. Gill.