The Scarecrow
More...
Back for more?
Hmm, I thought I would've scared you off already..
Well, you are persistent, aren't you?
Well, since you've been so unrelentingly interested, I suppose you deserve a little something, Yes?
I'll tell you a little story of
The Scarecrow.
The Scarecrow, once a small frightened child; Just like everyone else, on the outside...
The Scarecrow grew to be a teenager, with accomplices you would like to call friends.
The Scarecrow's 'friends' were clueless to the outside world. Only interested in doing what was against the rules.
Petty crimes and childish influences were their number one priority.
But the Scarecrow was only interested in their motives, not their actions.
Such children, with no care for authority, it fascinated the Scarecrow.
The Scarecrow never really cared for the things they consumed.
Heroin, Cocaine, Oxycodine, Methamphetamine.. Honestly, It was rather ridiculous.
Anything to make them seem cooler than they actually were.
The Scarecrow got it's very own high from observing these children, who were the exact same age. So foolish, they knew not what would happen if they were too fucked up and decided to run into a highway, thinking that it was a neon colored meadow.
The Scarecrow had it's share of addictions, Cigarettes, Alcohol, but that was pretty much it.
Never had the Scarecrow consumed one of it's friends offerings.
The Scarecrow was much too happy enjoying the stupidity of it's 'friends'.
One night, A Friday night to be exact, when all of the Scarecrow's friends were ruining an abandoned warehouse's exterior, The Scarecrow had nothing to do.
And was bored out of it's fucking mind.
The Scarecrow slammed the sticky door behind itself, as the screaming behind it seemed to be put on mute. The Scarecrow fished the cardboard box out on it's pocket and lit a cigarette as it walked out onto the barren street, illuminated in a dim orange glow from the dirty streetlights.
The Scarecrow stared down as it walked, watching as the broken glass sparkled like diamonds on the damp cement.
How could something so filthy and mundane seem so beautiful?
The Scarecrow wondered with disdainful amazement.
The Scarecrow reached the small corner store at the end of it's street, and decided to keep walking.
The Scarecrow walked and walked, past the empty and dark cars lined up the sidewalk. Past the grime-filled apartments whose lights flicked on as soon as The Scarecrow passed.
The Scarecrow walked by the bridge, the one that led into the mass of apartments.
When the Scarecrow came upon the local CVS.
Exhilaration ran through the Scarecrow, The Scarecrow wanted to do something dangerous, something life-threatening.
The Scarecrow sped to the back of the small store, climbing up the rust-laden iron ladder with ease. It reached the rooftop and sat gracefully on the cold stone, behind the large neon red letters.
The Scarecrow thought that this endeavor was much too easy to consider pleasurable.
The Scarecrow started to pace, thoughtfully, as it watched the cars buzz past on the intersection.
The Scarecrow realized, as it paced, that it shouldn't go back.
Back to the house that it suffered so much in.
Back to the place where people were idiotic and ignorant, no matter how laughable it was.
The Scarecrow stopped pacing and looked out at the busy intersection. A glare twisting it's way onto the Scarecrow's beautiful face.
The Scarecrow glared balefully at the metallic rooftops. Angry how the people in those cars had something to go home to. Had something worth living for.
A few people had noticed the Scarecrow's position on the rooftop, one foot on the ledge, staring outwards.
The Scarecrow knew what they were thinking.
Are they going to jump?
What the hell is that kid doing?
Should I call the cops? Nah, who gives a fuck.
The Scarecrow's face hardened.
Maybe I should jump.
It's not like it had anything to live for anyway...
No.
The Scarecrow refused to leave this damned world without a fight.
Or at least something for it to be remembered by.
The Scarecrow made a vow to do so.
The Scarecrow wanted revenge.
Revenge against people who had so much more that they surely did not deserve.
This world is not evenly balanced. So many with too much, and too many with not enough, Never enough.
And the Scarecrow would get revenge.
The Scarecrow would make sure of it...
Hmm, I thought I would've scared you off already..
Well, you are persistent, aren't you?
Well, since you've been so unrelentingly interested, I suppose you deserve a little something, Yes?
I'll tell you a little story of
The Scarecrow.
The Scarecrow, once a small frightened child; Just like everyone else, on the outside...
The Scarecrow grew to be a teenager, with accomplices you would like to call friends.
The Scarecrow's 'friends' were clueless to the outside world. Only interested in doing what was against the rules.
Petty crimes and childish influences were their number one priority.
But the Scarecrow was only interested in their motives, not their actions.
Such children, with no care for authority, it fascinated the Scarecrow.
The Scarecrow never really cared for the things they consumed.
Heroin, Cocaine, Oxycodine, Methamphetamine.. Honestly, It was rather ridiculous.
Anything to make them seem cooler than they actually were.
The Scarecrow got it's very own high from observing these children, who were the exact same age. So foolish, they knew not what would happen if they were too fucked up and decided to run into a highway, thinking that it was a neon colored meadow.
The Scarecrow had it's share of addictions, Cigarettes, Alcohol, but that was pretty much it.
Never had the Scarecrow consumed one of it's friends offerings.
The Scarecrow was much too happy enjoying the stupidity of it's 'friends'.
One night, A Friday night to be exact, when all of the Scarecrow's friends were ruining an abandoned warehouse's exterior, The Scarecrow had nothing to do.
And was bored out of it's fucking mind.
The Scarecrow slammed the sticky door behind itself, as the screaming behind it seemed to be put on mute. The Scarecrow fished the cardboard box out on it's pocket and lit a cigarette as it walked out onto the barren street, illuminated in a dim orange glow from the dirty streetlights.
The Scarecrow stared down as it walked, watching as the broken glass sparkled like diamonds on the damp cement.
How could something so filthy and mundane seem so beautiful?
The Scarecrow wondered with disdainful amazement.
The Scarecrow reached the small corner store at the end of it's street, and decided to keep walking.
The Scarecrow walked and walked, past the empty and dark cars lined up the sidewalk. Past the grime-filled apartments whose lights flicked on as soon as The Scarecrow passed.
The Scarecrow walked by the bridge, the one that led into the mass of apartments.
When the Scarecrow came upon the local CVS.
Exhilaration ran through the Scarecrow, The Scarecrow wanted to do something dangerous, something life-threatening.
The Scarecrow sped to the back of the small store, climbing up the rust-laden iron ladder with ease. It reached the rooftop and sat gracefully on the cold stone, behind the large neon red letters.
The Scarecrow thought that this endeavor was much too easy to consider pleasurable.
The Scarecrow started to pace, thoughtfully, as it watched the cars buzz past on the intersection.
The Scarecrow realized, as it paced, that it shouldn't go back.
Back to the house that it suffered so much in.
Back to the place where people were idiotic and ignorant, no matter how laughable it was.
The Scarecrow stopped pacing and looked out at the busy intersection. A glare twisting it's way onto the Scarecrow's beautiful face.
The Scarecrow glared balefully at the metallic rooftops. Angry how the people in those cars had something to go home to. Had something worth living for.
A few people had noticed the Scarecrow's position on the rooftop, one foot on the ledge, staring outwards.
The Scarecrow knew what they were thinking.
Are they going to jump?
What the hell is that kid doing?
Should I call the cops? Nah, who gives a fuck.
The Scarecrow's face hardened.
Maybe I should jump.
It's not like it had anything to live for anyway...
No.
The Scarecrow refused to leave this damned world without a fight.
Or at least something for it to be remembered by.
The Scarecrow made a vow to do so.
The Scarecrow wanted revenge.
Revenge against people who had so much more that they surely did not deserve.
This world is not evenly balanced. So many with too much, and too many with not enough, Never enough.
And the Scarecrow would get revenge.
The Scarecrow would make sure of it...
♠ ♠ ♠
I would've posted sooner but it kept deleting itself.