OCTOBER 9th-"I always thought my cat had a staring problem - she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, I realize that she was always looking past me."

I always thought my cat had a staring problem - she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, I realized that she was always looking past me. I followed her gaze, out the window towards the field. The old scarecrow with the unblinking eyes met my stare. I shuddered on impulse, "Is this what you've been watching all week?" I cooed at my cat, scratching her chin, "Silly kitty, it's not a real person!"

I looked at the scarecrow again. It was unnerving how alive it looked, and yet not. A mockery of the human in its old, tattered clothes, flesh toned face, and crooked, stitched smile. The previous owners of the house had no idea how long it had been in the field, but it must have been a while. The thing was obviously weathered and had a leathery looking texture about it. It was the eyes however that made it seem alert, and knowing. They were very realistic but bestial-the glass eyes used in taxidermy.

I wasn't sure how long I stared along with my cat, before snapping out of it and rushing to close the curtains. There was something deeply unsettling about the strawman. If it wasn’t such a ridiculous notion, I would have sworn it smiled more widely under my stares. I made a mental reminder to take the thing down over the weekend, it was seriously creeping me out.

That night, my cat began meowing and scratching at the front door. “I’m not letting you out in the dark cat.” I informed her, “Go chase lint for your amusement instead!”
She just stared at me, and then went back to yowling at the door. I finally gave up. “If you get lost, you’re on your own.” I said as I unlocked the cat door. She sniffed the door a couple of times, and then let out a “Hiss!” and bolted out.

I waited for her to return on the couch. I never realized I fell asleep, until I woke up the next morning. “Where are you cat?” I called out, groggily. There was no response. I groaned, grabbed a robe and went outside to find my missing kitty. The first thing I saw was the scarecrow, it looked closer than before. Without realizing it I began walking towards it.

My heart was beating loudly in my chest, “Da-Dum, Da-Dum, Da-Dum”. 
I swallowed, begging my feet to stop, or change direction, without success.

“Da-Dum, Da-Dum, Da-Dum.” 
My brow broke out in sweat, and my palms began to itch. As I grew nearer, the scarecrow grew in size. The scarecrow smiled down at me, menacing and sadistic as it compelled me towards it. I couldn’t bring myself to get any closer, and my heart picked up its frantic beating.

“DA-DUM, DA-DUM, DA-DUM”. 
The hair on my arms stood on end as I noticed the leather gloves covered in fresh blood. I followed the hands, up the arms, towards the neck: When I got to its face, I paled. I tried to let out a scream, but my mouth had gone dry. Flashing eyes, bright and green fixated on my face. My cat’s old eyes.