Brainless

Withered, sitting on her porch, eyes forever fixed on the moonlight sky, radiating the moon’s light onto her disheveled face. But we all know that underneath her barren exterior, a heart pumps. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and deep deep under...we find love; searching for someone to take it, and every night her eyes fly across the desolate sky searching for something.

For today is different. She takes her first step off the wooden segment of the home where she resides. Onto the grass, her first step seems to soften the ground underneath. It feels good. To keep walking is not a chore but a blessing that she is going to undertake, face still smirking. The straw she is made of collapses onto the ground, one piece at a time, until she is almost empty. Stumbling across the serrated articles of grass; weakened by the moment her insides literally pool behind her. Regret is not on her face. The smirk is still vibrant, broadcasting across her body, still loving with a heart too strong for anyone else. Suddenly she plummets, sprawled across the ground. Barely any of the brightening straw left to fill her garments. Laying for what seems like hours she hears what seems like pots clamping together on the earth next to her flaccid body.

Moving her head to the side on the ground on which she lays, iron feet find her. Her eyes position themselves upwards, finding who the feet belong to. A tin man stands, face smiling, he positions himself. The maroon-coloured straw dripping off his hands. Apparently he has been following her tracks, following the straw across the way. Slowly he starts piling his newly found straw into her clothing, filling her up all the way. His tin exterior, battered and dented, creaking and moaning as he moves. Slowly he takes his hand and fills her in knowing that he needs just as much help as her. She doesn’t think she needs help, that’s the only reason people think that she is brainless. She is full and as the tin man grabs her hands and pulls her upwards, their eyes meet.

She reaches out to him as she is back and recovered. She gives him a hug, the warmth of the scarecrow seems to deflect off the cold metal outside of his iron body. She feels no heartbeat but her own. Slowly as if nothing was there in the first place, she opens one button in her red woven vest and puts her hand in. Showing no sign of pain, no regrets, she pulls out something that seems to be shining brighter than anything the tin man has ever seen. Her heart beats slowly in the moonlight sky as she opens up the front latch on his iron clad body and puts it where his heart should be. She then wraps her sullen arms around him again feeling his body warm up and his face lighten. She says one last thing, “Some call me brainless because I sit in silence for many years. You have saved me, let me repay you.” Then slowly she lets her grip loosen and as she falls to the ground, the tin man catches her. Kisses her on her cold barren face, and leaves her to die. At least she wasn’t heartless.