My best friend at the time, Carly, and I had come home from school. We lived in a rural farm town. Both of us grew up together as neighbors, well, in truth we lived nearly a mile apart.
Carly and I got off at my stop, just a block from my place. Readying ourselves for our traditional harvest sleepover. I can still to this day see the golden wheat bustling from the ridged, cracked seams of dried land. I can close my eyes and see the rows of corn that thrashed about from the beginning of the autumn weather. Several acres of browned stalks that beckoned our arrival to my home.
Walking down the long gravel driveway to my families’ farmhouse, I could see six middle aged farmhands having verbal arguments with our goat, Gumpy, who had proudly perched himself on his apple tree. All of them were shouting at him to get down, only to face a rebuttal of bleating and spit.
One of the last fond memories from my childhood.
My father and his girlfriend had left town for the evening to catch a movie, leaving Carly and I to have the house, and tradition, to ourselves. We rushed through our math assignments, eager to decimate some frozen yogurt and cake while we watched Willow. Now before you think my father a terrible parent for leaving two ten-year-old girls alone on this vast property, the farmhands that worked the night shift would periodically check in on us, so we were never truly alone. A small comfort to say the least.
It was early in the morning when I had woken up. My throat was parched, likely from an abundance of salt and vinegar chips. I made my way down the steps and opened the fridge, the light burning my still groggy eyes.
I chugged down a bottle of water and made for the stairs again, when I heard crashing coming from the back door. Flicking on the hallway lights, I made my way out of the kitchen and towards the back of the house. The main door was bolted shut and locked, but the outside screen door was slamming against the frame, causing the entire wall to shake violently.
I reached out to unlock the door, my hand fumbling with the bolt lock, I pulled back the latch, sliding it through the barrel of the chrome lock until the sound of someone calling out from the barn stopped me. Jamming the lock back in place, I made for the side window, looking out to see one of the younger workers, Jonah, come rushing towards the back door.
“You alright?” he cried out, practically sprinting towards the door.
I scrunched my tired face. “What do you mean?” I shrugged. He seemed out of breath.
“Was working in the barn and I thought I saw someone I hadn’t seen before on the property. A little after that I heard banging coming from over here, thought I’d check on y’all.”
“Yeah, I think it may have been the wind causing the screen door to open and shut so much.” I tried to rationally explain the situation.
At first, he gave me that classic Jonah smirk, “There’s no wind, kid.” He chuckled a bit.
Then, it was as if an epiphany had struck him as he lowered his eyes to the screen door. The young mans’ face went cold as ice. He stared at me for a second, then the words fell out from his slightly ajar mouth. “You need to lock all the doors and call the police. Stay inside!”
I ran for the phone and frantically called 911. Desperately trying to explain what was going on. Carly must have heard all the commotion and come downstairs looking like a weird concoction of tired and freaked out. After the phone call I told Carly what had happened. She was scared but mostly confused.
We both went to the front door, keeping an eye out for the young man who was now approaching the edge of the corn field. I told Carly to stay there and dashed up the stairs, running to my bedroom I desperately crawled out my window and onto the roof so I could get a better view of him as he had now stepped inside the field.
Overhead I could just barely make out where he was, watching the corn shake with every step he took inside the field. He stopped near the scarecrow that was about one hundred yards out from our home. The light emitting from his flashlight scanned the area, then looked as if it was pointed back to our home, presumably he was heading back.
That’s when something caught my attention from where Jonah had been standing. The arms of the scarecrow that had been outstretched and tied to the perch had simply dropped right before my eyes. This creep had been hiding inside of it.
The person began to casually pull out the hay and take off the head and shirt, carefully setting them down. Then quietly they began to step towards Jonah.
“It’s behind you! Run Jonah!” I cried out frantically.
Thankfully he heard me, as he began rushing through the corn, but the person behind him was now running just as fast. He was right on his heels.
“Carly, open the front door!” I yelled from the top step. She nodded her head, unlocking the deadbolt and ripping the door open.
There was an antagonizing moment of nothingness. An anticipation that had festered for such a period that we were stuck still in a paralyzing moment of our lives. It felt like hours before the young man dove through the frame and kicked the door closed behind him. Carly slashed the deadbolt through and hammered down the lock.
We expected a smashing on the door or glass to shatter but there was nothing. I ran back upstairs and onto the roof. And that’s when I saw them.
They had replaced their scarecrow head with a gut-wrenching mask. The best description I can give you is it looked like the anguished man painting, but the mouth was much larger and ajar. A circular black blotch. Like a void.
They looked up at me, pointed at me and then stepped backwards into the field until they were completely out of sight.
It was another fifteen minutes before the police, my dad, and his girlfriend showed up. They took our statements. When they checked the backdoor, they could see the keyhole had small scratches, likely from a knife. The frame seemed cracked. The officer, and Jonah believed the person was slamming the door open and shut, hiding in a blind spot so I could not see them. A trap to lure me outside and close the door, and in that moment grab me.
I had been inches from this broken person’s grasp. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the thought of their attempt being successful stuck with me.
I wish I could say that the worst of it had come and gone but, this only gets worse over time. This was simply their first appearance.