Scarecrow | Teen Ink

Scarecrow

December 29, 2020
By TheShunnedPrince SILVER, Livermore, California
TheShunnedPrince SILVER, Livermore, California
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The field was full of dead grass that chafed together when the wind blew, making it sound like the earth itself was wheezing. The grass was taller than her, brushing against the top of her head and worming its way into her overalls. She pushed through the mess, trying to reach the other side before it caught up with her. 

The sun was burning in the sky and she felt like the field would catch fire. So she kept running, letting the grass scrape her skin raw. Her footsteps were too loud, but it was silent, as if it could just phase through the grass like a ghost through walls. 

There was sweat dripping down her back. She passed a scarecrow lying face down. Three ravens were perched on its back, stabbing at the scarecrow’s carcass with their beaks. She watched as they plucked the stuffing from inside its skin, devouring it from the inside out. 

She kept running because she had no other choice and if she stopped, it would catch her and she would end up just  like the scarecrow, her guts strewn across the field, her mouth open in a silent scream. 

The field ended in a cliff. She stopped short of the edge, her momentum almost throwing her over the side. Her shoes dug into the dirt and she peered over the edge. She couldn’t see the bottom because it was obscured by a layer of fog, but she knew she had two choices. If she jumped, it would stop chasing her. If she didn’t jump, it would catch her. 

The decision should have been hard. But it was getting closer and she could feel it’s presence burrowing inside every molecule of her body, setting her hair on fire and curdling the blood in her veins. She wanted it gone but it would never stop chasing her as long as she kept running. 

She faced the cliff and she knew what it meant. She didn’t know exactly what was waiting for her after the drop, or what the fog was hiding. Maybe she would just be falling forever. But she knew that she would rather fall than run.  She risked a glance over her shoulder, taking in the field of dead grass in the gray light of the clouds that had gathered to block the sun. She could see it on the horizon, taunting her, daring her to jump. She turned around to face the cliff again. And closing her eyes, she stepped off of the edge. 


The author's comments:

For this piece, I never really specified what she is running away from, so that’s really up to the reader. But while writing it, I was writing about someone running away from their own emotions. Repressing your own emotions is something that makes you feel like you’re constantly running away until you reach a cliff and you either have two choices: let your emotions catch up to you and force yourself to feel them, or jump off the cliff and lose yourself to apathy and numbness. The character in my short story chooses the cliff, and I wrote it that way to convince myself that wasn’t the right thing to do. It’s always better to feel things, no matter how much it hurts, because it’s our emotions that allow us to love and to be loved.


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