"I say to you that the girl will not become a scarecrow, and there is a reason behind that. There is a connection, a connection that is so close and deep that it drives away the evil that would be stalking this poor girl."
- Nora the Wise

The Scarecrows Are Stalking Me!

Judging from the title of this book, you already know what to expect. A farm. Farm animals. A farmer and his family. Crows. A cornfield. And of course, scarecrows. Our writer is fully aware that other authors wrote about evil scarecrows and how they usually transform humans into lifeless straws like them.

Luckily for you and me, this story will not be like those stories. My name is Robin Young, and I will tell you my experience on the farm and encounter with my mom and dad's scarecrows. But before I start that story, I have to tell you my other story. Or should I say, dream.

Two years ago, our family's crops were having major problems with crows, and when I say major, I mean it. These crows resided in the town of Forlot and were nothing like your average crows. They were huge and to be honest, stunning.

I did not mind these beautiful birds, however, I cannot speak for my parents. They despised the birds, and did I blame them? Not at all. Although that the crows were magnificent and one of God's creatures, they were ruining our crops. They would steal half of it and destroy what was left.

My mom and dad were fed up with them one day and made the decision of putting up a bunch of scarecrows in the cornfield. I reminded them that it was in their nature to do such deceitful things, but they just ignored me and proceeded to design some creative scarecrows.

Dad found a large box of stuff in one of the closets that would be perfect for making a scarecrow, and he and Mom went to work on the scarecrows. And in one day, they managed to finish off two scarecrows.

My folks were proud of what they created. They boasted about it the rest of the day. I, however, did not feel the same. Now do not get me wrong. The two scarecrows were amazing and would surely frighten all the crows. But you know what they say. If you make something or someone that should not be scary into something that you fear, that is where the troubles can lead to.

My parents put up those two scarecrows, along with two others, in the cornfield that night, and that is when my dreams began. Or should I say, nightmares.

It is one thing to know that you have scary-looking scarecrows near your farm. It is another thing to get an excellent view of the scarecrows from your bedroom.

I wonder if this is one of the reasons why young folks have no desire to own or work on a farm.

The nightmares would be the same each and every night. The only difference was how they ended. I would be standing outside in the dead of night far from my family's farm and close to the cornfield. I would be holding a stuffed bear that had his ear ripped and one of his button eyes missing.

The teddy bear was already bizarre because I did not own a teddy bear. That was stranger than being outside at night all by myself!

I would stare at the cornfield, and then clutch the stuffed toy when I would suddenly hear noises. They were the sounds of the ruffling of the leaves.

Coming directly from the cornfield.

I let out a whimper as I tilted my head up at the cornfield...and saw stakes. Empty stakes. None of the scarecrows were on them!

I wanted to scream. I wanted to retreat to my bedroom room and cry. Unfortunately for me, I did not get the chance to...

...because a scarecrow was in front of me.

The scarecrow stood by itself. It was tall and loomed over me, its shadow claiming me.

I opened my mouth to utter a sentence, but I only squeaked like a mouse. I was too petrified to do pretty much anything.

Then the strangest part of the nightmare occurred. The scarecrow got on one knee and gently took the stuffed bear from me. It examined the bear and rose back up. Then it held out a straw hand and beckoned me to take it.

I gulped and took its hand for some reason, and it led me through the cornfield. That was the end of the nightmare.

As I stated before, each of my nightmares ended differently. The same scarecrow would kidnap me or make me bleed. And sometimes, all the scarecrows would gang up on me and torture me.

The nightmares felt very real, and it did not help when I woke up to the scarecrows guarding our crops.

As much as I was deeply afraid of the scarecrows, I never confessed my fear to my parents. They had worked so hard on them, and I did not want to disappoint them. So my only other option was to deal with the straw bodies.

Thankfully for me, I worked inside the house, and whenever my folks went out to feed the animals and check on the crops, I would shut the blinds in order to avoid making eye contact with the creepy scarecrows.

I was just glad that the gnomes did not scare me. They were pretty cute.

We have lots of gnomes on our farm. My dad loves gnomes and collects them. He would set them on our porch and decorate their pointy hats with flowers. As of now, he has over fifty gnomes.

I love the gnomes and wished that they would come to life. Why? So they could protect me from the scarecrows!

A month after the scarecrows were created, I had a sneaky suspicion that the scarecrows were indeed alive. I was getting dressed one morning and noticed something moving from the corner of my eye. I pressed my face against my window and was in utter shock.

The scarecrow was climbing off its stake!

It vanished in the cornfield, and I dashed like the wind.