Chapter 10
In another part if the forest, a part Dorothy already had passed, something moved. Something that hadn't moved in over a year. A pair of brown eyes blinked confused. What had happened? Everything was in a bit of a blur. Slowly he tried to get up, but fell down again. Something was missing. He looked down at where his feet should be, but one of them was missing. He frowned. Where had it gone?
The scarecrow scratched his head, looking around him. He seemed to be in some dark unknown forest. Or, had he been here before? It felt kind of familiar, but he couldn't remember. He looked at himself, his arms his legs, his hands. Someone had sewn him together, with bright blue thread. His clothes had been torn to pieces, it looked like. But the scarecrow couldn't remember that happening. How odd…
Yes, there was something familiar about this forest. He had forgot about that. Them chasing him through it. Why did they chase him? He hadn't done anything. And they tore him to pieces. "I forgot about dying."