For the past couple of years, there has been another bizarre Christmas tradition growing more and more popular in America. Now, I’m not going to give away what I really know about these elves, because I know more things about them than most other kids, so my lips will stay sealed. Actually, no they won’t. The Elf on the Shelf, Santa’s little helper that supposedly comes down from the North Pole and watches your children, and the coming from the North Pole fact isn’t necessarily true, because they cost 30 dollars. In the book, it says they have been watching children for years before they were put in stores, and before that, I guess the book suggests that they would always peep through the window. That is unsettling, thinking that in my past there might (remember my previous statements) have always been a plastic doll looking through my window. But now, we let those dolls in the window in to our homes, to make stalking children even easier! These dolls determine whether you’re naughty or nice, by constantly monitoring you. As if, “He sees you when you’re sleeping,” wasn’t creepy enough, now there are dolls that always seem like they are hiding a bloody dagger behind their backs. For instance, the dolls’ pupils are always looking at the left of themselves. I can imagine that being one of the last things I would ever see, before the elf kills me. Right at this moment, I am being stared at by one of the elves, and the small smile stitched on to his face is unsettling. I’m afraid that if I look away, it will move closer to me, and will move even closer every time I blink it will move closer and closer to me, leading up to my death. Not convinced? Look at this photo: Am I crazy? Am I over-reacting over a couple of dolls? The eyes, though. I just feel constantly monitored when they are around sometimes. Usually I am fine with them in the morning, but when I wake up in the middle of the night because of a strange craving for an Oreo, seeing them is like looking right in to the eyes of a demon. That one might have come off as creepy, but it is what it is. Are they just looking to see if I’m bad or good, or do they want something deeper? Staring in to their blank, lifeless eyes gives me the most horrible feeling in the world. Knowing that my worst fear when I was little, living dolls, are always watching me when I’m sleeping, is horrifying. These elves have to report to the North Pole each and every night, and when the come back, they look for a new hiding spot, and in the morning the kids have to find him. I’d rather find him than leave him hidden, because that might give the dolls an advantage. They could just jump out at me while I’m sleeping, and before I know it, I’m dead. But, kids can’t touch the dolls, only the parents can, because when a child does touch them, they lose their magic (notice it is italicized), and won’t be able to report to Santa anymore. They won’t move anymore. They won’t be able to stalk you anymore. They will just be soulless dolls for the rest of their lives. To be honest, I would have gladly touched them, so they would have no chance of killing me in my sleep at all. Then I would actually be able to sleep at night.
If there wasn’t a purpose for the elves (you know, their purpose is to stalk children), I’m sure barely anyone would be scared by them. Of course, there still is the eyes. But if the dolls’ purpose wasn’t to watch children while they are sleeping, people would probably adjust to their presence then they could before. Right now, I still can see and feel the elf glaring right in to my soul. The look makes me want to go Homer Simpson style, and strangle it. I’m sure I would feel more comfortable if the elves didn’t purposely stalk me. I don’t care if I am on the so-called “naughty” list. I just want the elves out of my house. They could live in the street, for all I care. If they can convince me that they don’t stalk me for a bad reason, I would let them back in as a stuffed animal. Not a stalker, a stuffed animal. You know, there are only five more days left with them until they go to the North Pole for the larger part of 2015 (or get locked in my basement for that long). Either way, I think I might be more sad than I am now, because I just hang to them because of many Christmas memories. And, now I feel bad about my previous statements, because I actually love the elves. You know what, it’s complicated.