Page 17 of Curses and Cornstalks
“You don’t believe me?” I ask.
“I… I don’t know what I believe,” she admits, running her tongue over her teeth. “Curses and talking scarecrows shouldn’t exist by any means, and yet…”
“And yet, here I am.” I cock my head to the side, one of the only motions I’m allowed with my bindings. “If you can’t believe your own eyes, what can you believe?”
She chews her bottom lip, and I can almost see the gears turning in her head.
“I can believe these vines are cutting the circulation off in my legs.” She glances down at the foliage restraining her, and they twitch a little tighter in response. With a hiss, she looks back up to glare at me. “Fucking stop it, won’t you?”
I chuckle in earnest. “Such a filthy mouth for a lady.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t put up a front to please strangers. Especially ones trying to kill me.” Her eyes narrow to slits. “Who cursed you?”
“A woman.”
“Really? I would have never guessed,” she replies, her tone full of sarcasm. “Especially when you’re such a charmer…”
It’s my turn to glare as annoyance ripples through me. Maybe it would be better to just end her now. Sure, I’d once again be alone without anyone to talk to, but I wouldn’t have to deal with her sass.
“She cursed me because I didn’t love her,” I grind out, refusing to dwell too much on the memory. I’ve forgotten her name after all these years, but her wicked eyes and raven hair areburned into my soul. “She saw to it that if she couldn’t be with me forever, no one could.”
Her cocky facade fades, replaced by a look I know far too well:pity.
“I-I’m so?—”
“Save it,” I cut her off, looking past her into the endless sea of cornstalks. “I don’t want your sympathy.”
Silence falls over the field. My closest companion, my only friend.
It’s comforting, familiar.
Then, I look back at Cassie, and my normalcy shatters.
The fact that she’s still standing, still breathing, is a miracle in and of itself.
Why haven’t I killed her yet?The question plays on repeat in my head and goes unanswered.
“And since then?” she asks when I don’t say anything else. “Since you’ve been trapped here… the townspeople have tried to kill you?”
“Countless times.” I roll my eyes toward the sky, which is quickly fading from blue to rich hues to violet and red. “They’ve set me on fire, torn me apart, shot me. One farmer even fed me to his horses, but while I feel pain, I can never die. It’s part of the curse. I wither away all year, only to be rejuvenated on All Hallows’ Eve. It’s a cycle I can never break.”
“How long have you been cursed?” she asks softly.
I sigh automatically, the harshness of my reality hitting me like a sack of feed.
“Over a hundred years,” I answer. “With hundreds more to go.”
Chapter Eight
Cassie
Over a hundred years.
I stare at him in the fading light, studying his details again. His clothes are tattered, the burlap sack over his face slightly worn. His jeans are dirty but not horribly so. He doesn’t look over a century old.
Then again, if what he says is true, the man—er, scarecrow—rejuvenates every All Hallows’ Eve. Does that mean he becomes like new? Pristine and unmarred by the elements?
My head spins.
