Charlie's Awakening

Glug. Glug. Glug. “This sucks!” a man yelled as he threw a bottle of alcohol at the scarecrow. Shards of glass stuck to Charlie’s face, and drips of whiskey fell to the grass. His face was red, and he slicked back his brown hair and stuffed his hands into his brown coat. He walked up to Charlie and his brown eyes glared at Charlie’s red button eyes. “Every time I try to find a buyer, those crows that always perch on your shoulders come to harass them. What’s so great about this place? Who cares if this place became a community? Who cares about tradition? I’m tired of being a stupid backwoods bum!” he yelled, stumbling forward and holding onto the post holding Charlie up. “I heard this place used to be cursed until the founder somehow got through it. It seemed peaceful until I talked about selling it. Are you the cause...Charlie?” he regained his balance before a rock hit his head from somewhere behind. A man with brown skin in flannel and overalls tossed another rock up and down in his gloves as he looked at the drunken man. He was a slightly older man whose eye creases became more noticeable from the light of the sunset. “Stop harassing Charlie, Reynold.”

Reynold swayed slightly and turned around to face the farmer. “Garn...your settlement is across the field. Aren’t you supposed to be still farming?” The man called Garn sighed. “You got some nerve trying to go behind everyone’s back and sell the first farm. You were raised here, and you try to sell it because of what? Money?” Reynold frowned. “You know I’m in debt. If we don’t pay them back, they are going to come back here.”

“And we told them they can wait. We almost have the money, no thanks to you. We had to double our shifts. Now stop being a lazy drunk and help the others finish their shift.” Garn replied. Reynold grunted and walked off towards distant fields in the next settlement. Garn walked up to Charlie and picked the glass shards out of his burlap head. “Sorry about him, Charlie. He’s a reckless young man, but he isn’t a bad person.” he stared into Charlie’s button eyes with a smile before heading back, following after Reynold. Nighttime would eventually fall, and multiple farmers and merchants gathered around a campfire near Charlie.

Charlie couldn’t hear completely what they were saying. His vision faded in and out of darkness, everything feeling like a dream. He had countless memories of humans having conversations near him, but he wasn’t sure how long. Darkness would cloud his vision again, and the next time the vision became clear, he could hear screaming and yelling, with the barn burning in a blaze. Men in leather armor with swords grabbed women and children by the hair and dragged them behind them, with the men tied up in a group and made them walk into a wagon. As the screaming and yelling faded, so would Charlie’s vision, until he heard a voice. “Charlie! Charlie! Wake up! You need to save them! I know you’re in there! Wake up!” a voice yelled out. “Yeah! Wake up moron!” another shrieked. The two crows that always stayed near him pecked on the ropes holding him to the post, eventually breaking them free, and Charlie with it.

The scarecrow fell to the ground, and vision came before him once more. His branches that came out of his sleeves seemed to have formed into five tendrils, almost resembling hands. He stood up, looking at the barn. The fire had died down, and what remained was ashes and burned wood. “We’ve been pecking at your stupid rope for several hours. That sucked!” Charlie turned to the voice, and there was no one but the crows standing there. One flapped his wings. “Finally! That was annoying!” Charlie looked up at them. Can they talk? The other crow leaned forward slightly from the arm of the wooden frame. “Don’t look so surprised! Talking birds shouldn’t be a surprise to a walking scarecrow!” The other bird turned his head towards his brother. “Yeah, but humans can’t understand us. Is it more like telepathy? Technically, we can’t actually talk.” His brother side-stepped to the edge of the arm of the frame. “My statement still stands. Besides, this is a new thing anyway. I can’t even remember how we did.”

Charlie looked at the crows, feeling a sense of confusion. The crows both turned their heads towards Charlie. “You’re probably wondering why we freed you. We don’t know ourselves. We just had a feeling you’d wake up.” He soon spread his wings. “Anyway! That’s enough for talk! Your family and the farmers from the surrounding settlements got captured, Charlie! You need to find and save them! We’ll help!” The other brother let out a caw. “Yeah! Those guys gave us treats when other places treat us like we’re cursed or something! Where will we get our food?! We’ll get some help! We’ve been slowing them down by scaring their horses and pecking at them; it’s time for a counter assault. Head towards the other side of the barn and keep moving! We’ll meet you there!”

With that, the two crows flew off. Charlie looked at his hands again, and then the sky. The farmers...his family? Were they family, right? They always talked to him. Stitched him and changed his clothes. He should save them. No, he will save them. He turned around, and his boots scrunched against the ground as he began walking. Soon his legs would move faster, and then faster. If he was human, he’d probably be panting, but he felt no sense of exhaustion. His button eyes looked from the ground to ahead. A strange feeling as he ran. He could feel the life of the plants and animals around him. And he could sense the people who took his family away. If the crows slowed them down, and he didn’t stop running, he could catch up. He just had to run. 

Run. 

Run. 

And run.