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Is writing this type of story signs of a mental disturbance?

These are some excerpts from the story...:

"I entered the kitchen, to find seven sickly cat skeletons quickly but calmly climbing the kitchen counters cunningly chasing six small silver mice. I made a mad dash for the freezer, yanked out a popsicle, and ran to the living room, careful to avoid the cats and mice as I exited. I wonder how those cat skeletons escaped their graves and acquired the energy to chase after the mice, I thought, as I slurped on a purple popsicle. I sat on the sofa, then stood, and tripped over the rug. I realized I was stuck, so I crawled to the nearest window. I attempted to pull myself upright using the window ledge, but it wasn’t working, so I slid open the window and started to yelp for help. "

" Sally went back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Oh great, she thought as she saw that there was a little green alien eating all the cheese. “Please don’t eat my peach yogurt!” warned Sally. She shut the refrigerator and climbed onto the counter. She opened a cabinet, took out a bowl, put it on her head and jumped off of the counter. She landed on some cheesecake and the bowl that was on her head shattered everywhere. “Look before you leap,” quoted Sally. She picked up an ax which was laying conveniently in the sink and used it to shatter every window in the house."

" "Well well well," said a plump old woman out of nowhere. "Look who it is," she continued, as she blocked my path. "Umm....Do I know you!?" I asked her suspiciously. "You know exactly what I mean!!!!" She shouted angrily as she hopped up and down on one foot and pointed to her nose. "Uhh...." I began, but she cut me off. "You've been stealing my lawn-gnomes for quite a while now!!" "Enough of this!!!" She bellowed loudly. "WHAT are you TALKING about?!" I asked in surprise and confusion. Instead of replying, she ran up to me and punched me in the stomach as hard as she could. I swiftly fell to the ground, completely out of breath. When I stood up, several lawn-gnomes in assorted colors poured out of the deep hole in my stomach and old woman caught them in an upside-down umbrella she had been holding."
If your teenage daughter wrote something like this, would you be worried? The story goes on for about 100 pages and it's a bunch of unrelated, continuous streams of nonsense.