Scarecrow

I am alive! I have been created for only one purpose: to strike fear. And that I shall do. I am placed upon a towering frame, overlooking a vast field, standing guard over this harvest. The birds should not dare approach my territory. I do not move whilst people are about, for that which has been created can, from him, be life removed.

Darkness hovers above us, descending slowly but resolutely. Stillness is settling in the trees as the birds find their homes. My job in the field is coming to an end, yet I am not finished with my created purpose. 

I disembark from the pole that holds me aloft and go toward the home of my maker. I creep as quietly as possible, creating only the soft rustling of straw, and peer inside a window to see a little boy. He turns over in his bed, looks toward the window and screams in terror when he sees my poorly constructed face. My mission complete, I swiftly return to my post as I see his bedroom illuminated. No doubt his parents have come to assuage his fears.

The next morning, the boy is playing outside. When I turn my head to look at him, I hear the familiar scream before he retreats inside the house. I do not see him again that day. After darkness has draped itself over us, I let myself down once again. I move stealthily toward the house, approach the same window and look inside. A small light is left on beside the bed, and the boy is restless. He turns over and meets my gaze. His eyes widen with a look of dread, but he refrains from making any sound. I then smile maliciously and he screams as he runs from the room and I take my leave.

The next morning, the boy comes outside holding the hand of my creator. I am deathly still as they approach.

“See, Nickie? It’s just a pair of grandpa’s old overalls and one of my worn out flannel shirts, stuffed with straw,” he says as they come closer.

The boy’s skeptical face betrays him.

“Look,” his father says as he pokes at my body. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

They join hands once again as they walk away. I watch as the boy turns back to take one more glimpse. I smile and wave at him and he grabs hold of his father’s leg. I then quickly revert to my lifeless expression once again.

Goodbye, little one, until tonight…

Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

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