Experiment Scarecrow

Chapter 16

Despite the time crunch, Brooke forced herself back into the woods after school--the desire to see him, and to know more, beckoning for her to continue. 

The leaves crinkled underneath her feet as she trudged through the woods, returning to the glade where the church remained; untouched by the sun's warming rays. She bounded up to the doorway, entering with yet another picture book in hand.

"Scarecrow?" her voice called softly, echoing off the stone walls.

Scarecrow lifted his head from behind the altar, blinking his ruby colored eyes. "Oh, hello," he replied, his voice neutral as always.

"What are you doing?" she asked, carefully placing each foot down on the floor in between the pieces of glass and splintering wood shards. 

"Sewing." He turned back to the small mirror propped up before him, pushing the suturing needle through the far corners of his mouth where it continued to split from each smile.

She visibly cringed, kneeling down beside him. "Why-I-I don't understand. Why are there stitches there in the first place?"

He turned his head, his eyes fixated on the new angle of his reflection as he continued to sew. "I talked too much..." he mumbled, barely parting his lips to speak.

Brooke's brow furrowed at the response. "You talked  too much? What does that mean? I find that hard to believe."

He paused, slowly looking down at her, loose threads dangling from the right corner of his lips--it appeared as if someone had sliced at them to extend his mouth. "I did talk a lot at one point..." he said slowly, before tying the sutures with a knot of some form.

She nodded, beginning to study his face as he remained temporarily distracted. "But who did it? Your parents...?" she asked softly, her eyes tracing the scar, interwoven with stitches, travelling from the bottom of his left eye down toward his jaw. She tilted her head, spotting another cutting across his throat.

Scarecrow merely shook his head no, beginning to set the needle aside until his body began to rack with an unexpected laughter. She jumped, startled by the sudden outburst of laughter emanating from him. "Wh-What?" she stuttered. "What are you laughing at?"

He didn't answer, continuing to laugh hysterically, dropping the needle on the floor as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. "M-My parents..." he wheezed.

She gave him a puzzled look.

What was so funny about his parents?

"How is that funny..?"

He hunched over, beginning to rock back and forth as he continued to cackle. "B-Because i-it would be something they would do!"

She gave a small chuckle, although clearly still confused. "I'm sure, Scarecrow..." She shook her head, her eyes fixating back on the scar around his throat.

As soon as he turned to face her, his eyes turned into slits, his laughter disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his amused tone dissolving.

Brooke quickly lifted her eyes to meet his, her palms pressed to the floor as she pushed away from him. "I-I was just looking... at you..."

"Why?"

"I-I just... I thought I recognized-You look a little familiar is all."

He shook his head. "No. I'm one of a kind." He soon stood, nudging the mirror aside with his foot before collecting his axe off the table to bound outside.

She swiftly rose after him, trying to follow. "Scarecrow? Where are you going now?" she hollered.

Scarecrow paused in the doorway and frowned. "I want to go outside."