Things didn't get better for me as I spent more time on the farm. I couldn't get used to waking up early and doing chores in the fields, and I kept annoying the others, even Louisa. The more I tried, the more I messed up.

One morning, I woke up early and headed downstairs to see Louisa on her way out. She turned to me, explaining that she was about to collect the eggs. I rarely got up early enough. I offered to help to help her.

"I'm surprised you want to help, Fern," Louisa said as she led me to the chicken coop. "Or that you want to help around so much. It's good to see you aren't too scared after everything that happened."

I stared at the row of squawking chickens as Lousia collected eggs. I was even slightly afraid of them, remembering how we had tried to feed the pigs yesterday. I leaned over to collect one of the eggs from the boxes next to the cages. I carefully picked it up and placed it into my basket.

"Come on, Fern, don't be afraid of the chickens," Louisa insisted, reaching over to collect pick up the bucket of chicken feed next to the cages. "You won't fall into the cage, and even if you do, it's much cleaner. You'll only get covered in straw."

I scowled, remembering how I had fallen into the trough while feeding the pigs. I still remembered the slimy scraps of food and wet clumps of mud that got all over my face and clothes. I backed away from the chickens as Louisa opened the cages and they all began clucking and hopping excitedly.

"They always act like that when they're about to be fed," Louisa explained, pouring chicken feed into the cages. "Look how greedy they are. Almost as greedy as me, my parents say. But don't be scared of them. They're harmless. In fact, one of the roosters probably woke you up this morning. You should be thanking them."

I didn't say anything. I knew that wasn't it. I had remained in bed for a long time, staring around the small attic and gazing out the window at the grey, dreary sky. Then I went downstairs, where Louisa was about to go out to collect the eggs.

"And they give us great eggs for breakfast," Louisa continued. "Mom's been trying to convince Dad to let the chickens go free range, but he won't have it. He insists on having everything under control."

"I guess your parents are still in bed," I said. "I must've gotten up early."

"Actually, they went to get the tractor fixed," Louisa explained.

"What? Where?" I demanded.

"Well, the small town close to the farm," Louisa explained. "But they figured since they're there, they might as well take the bus to the town you live in, like they always do."

"Couldn't I have come with them?" I asked. I wanted a break from the farm. "I mean, I know my parents aren't there, but I could've seen Jeremy. He just moved there as well."

"Do you still adore him so much, Fernie?" Louisa teased. "Sorry, but they've already left. They're probably on the bus right now."

I lowered my head in disappointment. "Is the town that close?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's just beyond the cornfields. They get there by walking all the time," Louisa said, backing away from the cages as the chickens pecked hungrily.

I wished I could have gone home. I just caused problems on the farm. I was worried about doing it again. "Don't worry, Fern. Maybe I'll ask them to take you to visit when they get back," Louisa suggested.

I perked up upon hearing that. "Did they really leave you here all by yourself?"

"Well, Nadia and Aidan are here too," Louisa reminded. "They told me to collect the eggs and everything for them. I usually do everything on the farm anyway. I'm used to it."

"My mom never trusts me like that," I muttered, reaching over to pick up another egg.

"Well, it's a good thing you're helping me," Louisa said.

I jumped as the egg slipped from my hand. I watched in dismay as it fell, cracking in half and spilling over the floor.

"Not that good," I muttered, backing away. I couldn't seem to do anything right.

"Don't worry, Fernie. I've done that a few times as well. There's no use crying over spilled milk… or broken eggs," Louisa said. "Maybe you could help me feed them instead. You did such a good job collecting the corn." I noticed bits of crushed corn in the feed the chickens were pecking. "And now we're feeding them with it. They love this stuff."

I hesitated. "I don't know…"

"Come on, Fern, try it. They don't bite, hard." Louisa held the bucket out to me.

I reluctantly stepped forward and took the bucket from Louisa. Then I cautiously stepped to the chickens. Several of them sprung forward at the sight of food, their wings flapping and beaks clucking. I jumped and backed away, dropping the bucket from my hand. I groaned as the chicken feed spilled all over the ground.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Don't worry," Louisa assured. "But they can get greedy if they're not fed enough. I'll just quickly head to the barn to get some more."

I started to follow her, but she stopped me. "I'll be back before you know it," she assured. "Just stay here and watch the chickens."

"But—" I protested. But Louisa had already left. I had a feeling she thought I'd mess up again if I went with her.

I sighed as I turned back to the chicken coop. I observed the squawking, flapping chickens. Well, all I had to do was watch them, not ride or feed them. I glanced down, noticing the mound of chicken feed I had spilled on the ground. I started to reach down to pick it up, but I didn't know if the chickens would like dirty food. Besides, I wasn't planning on feeding them, anyway. I was sure Louisa would clean it when she returned.

The smell of the chickens was beginning to make me sick. I backed away, thinking about how I wouldn't have to do any of this at home. I wished I was back at home with my parents.

I jumped as I heard squawking right behind me. I dodged out of the way just in time to see one of the chickens run past. I stared in disbelief at the blur of feathers.

"Hey, come back!" I called. I watched helplessly as the chicken disappeared, too afraid to chase after it.

I turned to the chicken coop, my heart sinking. One of the cages was empty, the metal door clanging back and forth. Louisa must've left it open. The other chickens were beginning to cluck as well, seeming to notice their neighbor was gone. I probably should've closed their cages as well, but I was too afraid to go near them. As I glanced down at the ground, I noticed the pile of chicken feed I had spilled was scattered over the floor. I realized the chicken must've escaped to get the food, and then wandered off. It was partly my fault, again. I always messed everything up here.

I turned and ran to the barn as quickly as I could. I needed to tell Louisa, even if I'd be in trouble. But I wasn't sure where the barn was. I ran through the farm, kicking the pumpkins out of the way as the cold air whipped in my face. I couldn't find the barn anywhere, but I did catch sight of the chicken, waddling past the paddock I had gone riding in. I realized he was heading in the direction of the cornfield. I wasn't sure whether he wanted more corn or just happened to be wandering there. I lingered behind, watching the chicken for a while. I wasn't eager to head back there after I had gotten lost, but then I remembered the cornfields were at the edge of the farm. If I just stood there, the chicken might be able to escape.

I started running to the cornfield, before raising my head. I froze as I caught sight of the scarecrow in distance, the burlap face drooping under the cloudy sky. It was a cold, dreary day, unlike yesterday which had been bright and sunny. Maybe it was just because it was so early. I hesitated as I walked up to the cornfield, not wanting to get lost again. The next moment, I jumped as I felt drops of water land on my head.

The cornstalks drooped as rain fell on them. I backed away as I became wet as well. I was almost grateful for the excuse to leave. I turned and ran as the rain began to increase steadily. As I caught sight of the chicken coop, the roof glistening under the rain, I hoped none of the other chickens had gone missing. To my relief, they were all safely locked in their cages, clucking and hopping as if afraid of the rain. All except the chicken that was still out there. I winced as I heard the rain pattering down. I couldn't stop thinking about the chicken that was out there. Then I jumped as I heard footsteps behind me.

"Fern! Is that you?" I turned around to see Louisa, her braids dripping with water. "At least it'll give the plants a good wash. It gave me one, too." She smoothed down her wet shirt. "At least I don't have to take a shower anymore."

I didn't say anything. I knew I should've told her about the missing chicken, but I was too afraid.

"The chickens are excited," Louisa explained, walking over to the coop. "They like the rain. They run around outside whenever it starts to rain." She tightened the locks on the cages. "That's why I have to lock them in tightly."

I relaxed slightly upon hearing that, but I still worried. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice one of them was missing as she locked the cages. "You're wet too, Fern," said Louisa. "I was going to stay in the barn, but then I remembered you were out here. Come on, let's get to the farmhouse."

I followed her back to the farmhouse, shivering in the pouring rain. I trudged over the mud sloshing over the grass. I was shaking all over by the time I got inside, dripping water over the ground. I knew I couldn't make it all the way up to my room.

Louisa tightly shut the door. "You should come into the kitchen, Fern," she suggested. "There's a fireplace in there."

I followed her into the kitchen and flopped down next to the fireplace, feeling the warmth spreading over me. But I couldn't stop shaking, thinking about the chicken out there in the rain. It had to be even colder than me, and it was all my fault. I always messed up everything.

I heard Louisa put the kettle on. She crouched down next to me, handing me a mug of tea. I took it from her, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands.

"I always liked the rain," Louisa remarked. "I like being inside and hearing it, or even outside. But my mom always says I'll catch a cold." She paused, listening to the downpour. "It's really coming down, huh? At least the crops will get watered by themselves."

"Louisa, there's something I should tell you," I said.

"What is it, Fern? Oh, you're shaking all over." Louisa put her arm around me. "I just hope the chickens are alright. Nadia and Aidan said they'll check on the other animals, but I keep worrying the rest of them could have escaped."

"Actually, about that…" I hesitated. "I think you must've left the cages unlocked… I mean…"

"Oh, I know," Louisa interrupted. "One of them's gone missing, hasn't he?"

I stared at her. "How did you know?"

"I noticed while I was locking the cages," Louisa explained. "I just didn't say anything, since we had to get back inside." She lowered her head. "I know I should've kept the cages locked."

"Actually, it was my fault," I admitted. "I spilled the chicken feed on the ground, and they all wanted it."

"I told you they were greedy," Louisa remarked. "That's why I left. I don't like dealing with them for too long."

"So you left me alone with them?" I exclaimed.

"Let's say it was both our faults," Louisa suggested.

"Well, what do we do?" I demanded. "Now the chicken is out there, all by itself."

"Calm down, Fern," Louisa insisted. "It's not the first time an animal has gone missing. I'm sure he'll come back before long."

"But he was heading to the cornfield," I said.

"The cornfield?" Louisa demanded.

"At least, I think he was. That's where the end of town is, isn't it?" I asked. "What if he escapes?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure he won't," Louisa assured. "I'm sure my parents won't even notice. Let's just hope he returns before they come back. They're probably freaking out as well. Mom doesn't like the rain. I just hope it doesn't hurt the tractor."

I shuddered while inching closer to the fire. "I wish I had come with them," I admitted. "I wish I had never come here."

"Do you really hate the farm that much?" Louisa demanded. "It isn't that bad. Didn't you like riding the horses?"

"Before I fell off," I muttered. "It isn't just that. I keep making everything worse. It would've been better if I never came."

"Don't say that, Fernie," Louisa assured. "I like having you around, even if you do cause problems."

"But if I said I wanted to leave, do you think they'd let me?" I asked.

Louisa hesitated. "I'm not sure. Your parents aren't home, are they?"

"No, but Jeremy is," I reminded. "He just moved to my town. Maybe I could stay with him and his parents. You said I just have to take the bus to get there, right?"

"Look, let's talk about it when they return," Louisa suggested. "You're freezing. You should get up to your room."

I reluctantly got up from the fire, my legs shaking as I headed out of the kitchen. It was a hassle having to climb all the way up to the attic. Louisa followed me.

"Maybe you could come to my room instead," she suggested. "It's closer, and it's larger."

I gratefully followed Louisa to her room. It was much larger than the attic, and more cluttered. Her things were sprawled and scattered everywhere, and I almost tripped over something.

Louisa held up a red dress. "You left this here last time you came to stay," she reminded. "Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. It's probably too small for me now," I admitted.

"It was too big for you last time," Louisa reminded. "You almost tripped over while you were walking in that thing. We kept trying to tell you not to wear it on the farm, but you wouldn't listen. You got it all dirty."

"I remember," I muttered. "It was stupid of me. But it might fit me now."

"You want to try it on?" Louisa asked. "At least it's dry."

I nodded while taking the dress from Louisa. I headed into the bathroom next to her room. The dress stopped just below my knees. I rinsed out my wet clothes and hung them in the sink. When I returned to Louisa's room, she was trying to clean up her own clothes.

She glanced over at me. "Oh, there you are, Fern. You look pretty. I almost wish I had something like that. But there's no room for anything like that on the farm.

I found that hard to believe. I had only seen her in jeans and overalls. "I know," I admitted. "I don't know what I was thinking, bringing a dress here. But I didn't want to come here last time either."

Louisa frowned. "Do you really hate this place that much?"

I hesitated. "Well, it's not bad," I admitted. "I know it takes a lot of work to grow the crops and take care of the animals and stuff. I'm just not suited to be here."

"I'd probably feel the same way if I visited your town," Louisa admitted. "Don't worry, I'll ask Dad to take you into the town tomorrow."

"Maybe," I muttered. But I was considering leaving for good.

"Come on, Fern, don't look like that," Louisa insisted. "Maybe we can do something inside now that it's raining."

"Like what?" I asked doubtfully.

Louisa pulled something out from under her bed. It was a red frisbee. "I haven't seen this thing in ages!" she exclaimed, tossing it over to me.

I was too taken aback to catch it. I yelped as the frisbee hit me, before falling to the floor. I raised a hand to rub my shoulder while glaring at Louisa.

"Sorry, Fern," Louisa apologized, reaching over to pick up the frisbee. "I just thought we could toss this around."

"Are you serious?" I demanded. "Should you really be doing that indoors? Mom never lets me."

"Well, no," Louisa admitted, turning the frisbee over in her hand. "But what harm could it do?"

"You can if you want, but I'm not," I said. "I'll go up to my room."

As I left the room, I could hear Louisa tossing the frisbee around. I rolled my eyes, thinking about how she was always so energetic. At least she'd be the one in trouble for a change if her parents came home.

As soon as I was back in the attic, I quickly changed out of the dress, thinking about the idea of leaving. I was seriously considering it. I didn't want to cause any more problems for them, but at the same time, I didn't want to get into any more trouble. I knew it was selfish of me, but I couldn't stay at the farm for any longer. It wouldn't be a long walk to the town I had seen past the cornfields. I could take the bus back to Gloomsdale and stay with Jeremy until my parents got back. I was sure Louisa's parents wouldn't want me around.

I stared out the window at the pouring rain, thinking about the idea. I was also freaked out by the stories of the farm Louisa had told me. There were rumors about my town as well, but at least there weren't any in the house my parents and I stayed in. I became more confident about my plan as I gazed around the tiny, rundown attic. I was sure they'd agree. I was about to start packing when I heard yells from downstairs.

"Fern! Fern, get down here!"

I jumped out of my skin and got out of bed. Louisa's parents were yelling angrily at me. My heart sank. Had they found out about the chicken I had let escape?

I considered staying up in my room, but I figured I'd have to face them eventually. Besides, if I really was leaving soon, they wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. I reluctantly climbed down from the attic, staring into the furious face of Janet. I was taken aback. I was used to Peter being like that, but I had never seen Janet so angry before.

I noticed that she was holding colorful shards in her hand. "Fern, what is this?" Janet demanded, holding up one of the brightly painted pieces.

I backed away. "I… I don't know."

"I think you do. It's my vase," Janet explained. "The vase I got from Peter when I first moved here."

"That's right," Peter agreed, giving me a look. "And you broke it, didn't you?"

"What?" I gasped. "Me?"

"Do you know how much it meant to me?" Janet demanded. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't, since I never told you. But I don't let anyone else touch it."

I watched as tears filled her eyes while Peter put his arm around her. I was so shocked by the accusations, I couldn't even speak. I didn't dare to interrupt her as Peter glared at me.

"You've done nothing but cause problems since we arrived," Peter scolded. "I know you're not used to living here, but you could at least try to be helpful."

"I know," I muttered, lowering my head. "I'm sorry."

I was about to ask whether they'd let me leave, but I couldn't get a word in as they kept lecturing me. They were mostly right, even if they were wrong about me breaking the vase. I did just cause problems. I was sure they would want me to leave, but I was too afraid to interrupt when they were so angry. I was somehow more afraid of Janet. She was always so friendly, but right now, she was hurt and angry.

Peter gently led Janet away. "Come on, let's see if we can put the vase back together."

"Not much chance," Janet muttered. "It was so fragile. It's really no wonder it broke. I'll have to have a word with Louisa as well. She shouldn't have let her sister play the frisbee indoors."

I glanced up in shock upon hearing that. I knew it was Louisa who had been tossing the frisbee around, and I hadn't touched it. But why did they think it was me if it belonged to her? A thought came to my mind, but I pushed it away as I turned and headed back up to the attic. I didn't want to believe Louisa had blamed me. Maybe they had by themselves. After all, I had been messing up a lot. It wasn't surprising they thought it was me. I was just relieved they hadn't found out about the chicken.

They'd definitely want me gone now. I always messed up everything. I hurriedly began packing, shoving everything into my bag. I froze as I heard someone come up to the attic. I thought they were going to scold me some more, but it was Louisa. She was carrying something large and heavy. She dropped it on the attic floor, causing a wave of dust to rise up.

"Hi, Fern," she said softly. I stared at the old, dusty book she had placed on the ground. Louisa glanced around in surprise. "Have you been cleaning? It's very tidy in here."

"I'm going away soon," I explained. "Like I told you. I'm returning home."

"What?" Louisa exclaimed. "You mean, my parents agreed to let you go?"

"Well, no," I admitted. "They were too busy yelling at me. But I know they want me gone. I might as well start packing."

Louisa winced. "They blame you for breaking Mom's vase, don't they? You know that was important to her."

"I didn't know," I retorted. "And I didn't break it, either. That was you, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah," Louisa admitted, lowering her head. "I didn't mean to say it was you. I just…"

"You mean, you did blame me?" I exclaimed. "How could you do that, Louisa?"

"I was just afraid, in the heat of the moment," Louisa explained. "I knew Mom would be furious at me. She's already not happy with me for thinking I let you play with the frisbee. And I knew they'd believe it was you. I mean, they're already mad at you after everything you've done. So does it really matter if they blamed you?"

I glared at her. Louisa picked up the old book on the ground. "I found this inside the vase," she admitted. "I'm surprised it fit inside. It was all squashed. It must've been in here for years. It's a miracle it didn't fall apart when I threw the frisbee."

"That's good for you," I muttered.

"It's a strange book, though. I couldn't make out any of the writing inside. But maybe you can." Louisa slid the book across the floor over to me. I stared at the dusty, faded cover. "Here, you have it. It's the least I could do."

I scoffed, reaching over to pick up the book. "You think that's enough to make up for blaming me?"

"Well, look on the bright side. At least I didn't let it slip that you let one of the chickens escape," Louisa pointed out. "Then you'd really be in for it."

"That was your fault as well," I retorted. "You forgot to lock the cages, and you left me alone with them. I bet you wanted them to escape."

"I did not," Louisa protested. "I just didn't want to deal with them. And I wanted to check on the horses at the barn. They had a scare, thanks to you."

"It was because of you. You made your horse trot like that," I scowled. "That's why I fell off." I knew I wasn't being entirely reasonable, but I was just looking for someone to blame now.

"You fell off because you were a baby," Louisa retorted. "Come on, don't be like that, Fernie. I'm sure they'll get over it eventually."

"No, they won't," I insisted. "Now even your mom is mad at me."

"You aren't going to tell her it was me, are you?" Louisa asked. "I didn't mean to break that vase. I was just trying to have some fun."

"No, I won't," I agreed. "It won't do much good, anyway. They'll probably let you off lightly, since you're so good with everything else in the farm."

"Maybe not," Louisa admitted. "I might be good outside, but I'm always making a mess indoors. Mom says I'm clumsy."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

"You wouldn't notice, since you spend most of your time up in the attic," Louisa said. "Besides, the place is already falling apart."

"But not as much as me," I said. "I should probably leave, before I mess up even more."

"Wait, are you seriously going to?" Louisa asked. "Shouldn't you ask my parents first?"

"I'm terrified of talking to them," I admitted. "Couldn't you ask them for me, Louisa? I'm sure they'd agree."

Louisa hesitated. "I really think you should give this place a chance," she insisted. "It's been so long since I've had company here, and I do like having you around…"

"Oh, really?" I scoffed. "I find that hard to believe. You keep making things worse for me."

"Me, making things worse?" Louisa demanded. "You're the one who does."

"So why don't you tell them I want to leave?" I suggested.

"Come on, Fern. You haven't even been here long," Louisa insisted. "Couldn't you try to stay for just a few more days? My mom says only losers give up on anything."

In other words, she wasn't going to tell them. I scowled. "Fine, don't tell them," I snapped. "You can blame them for something you did, but you can't tell them what I want you to."

"Don't be like that, Fernie," Louisa insisted. "Take a look at the book if you want. See if you can get anything out of it."

"Just leave me alone," I muttered.

"Alright, alright," Louisa agreed, crawling back. "I'm sorry, hermana."

I stared at her in surprise as she left. She hadn't called me that in a while. But I was still mad at her.

I finished packing the last of my things and gazed out the window, watching the rain pour down outside. I knew I couldn't leave now, but as soon as it stopped raining, I would. I glanced at the book Louisa had left. I crouched down and brushed my hand over the old leather. I opened the book, blinking as another layer of dust rose up.

I realized Louisa was right as I flipped through the old, yellowed pages. Some were ripped and tattered while others were creased and smudged at the ends. I saw small black writing scrawled on the paper, but I struggled to make out the words. As I looked closely on one of the pages, I could just make them a date scrawled into the top right hand corner. I realized it was a journal of some kind. I squinted at the tiny, neat handwriting, until some of the lines stood out.

Every day here is worse than the last. I revel the thought of when I can leave. The only problem is that my family won't allow it.

That sounded familiar. I felt the same way. I scanned some of the above lines, making them out as best as I could through the smudged ink and faded stains.

I hate the tractor. I wish… car. If I lived… to get up so early.

My eyes widened. It was clearly the journal of an old farmer. Even though I couldn't make it out too well, I had a good idea of how the farmer felt as I flipped through the pages. I read about the shenanigans on the farm, and how his family forbid him from leaving. It was similar to how I felt, except it sounded even worse for this farmer. As I flipped through the book, the pages became more ripped and smudged, obscuring the writing. But I leaned forward, carefully inspecting the words. It was thrilling to read someone's private thoughts, and it was satisfying to me that they were similar to my own.

I stared at one of the pages. It appeared to be a grocery list of some sort, listing various items such as matches and oil. I jumped as I saw the familiar name in jagged handwriting along the bottom, right next to another date. Gloomsdale.

I quickly flipped the page, not wanting to dwell on it. The next entry filled almost the entire page. The handwriting was large and jagged instead of small and neat, the sharp letters sticking out in every direction. I gasped as I read what was written.

If they won't let me leave, I'll burn it all. I'll burn the whole place down. Then they'll know what it's like to suffer here.

The rest was cut off by the ripped pages. I ran my hand over the bottom of the page, before jumping as I realized what the black smudges singing the edges were. They were burn marks.

I shut the book as hard as I could, backing away. I was sure of it now. It belonged to the old farmer, John. The farmer who hated the farm. And now I had found his journal. I knew what had happened now, in the accident Louisa had mentioned. He had tried to set the farmhouse on fire. And he had been writing his plans in his journal. He had bought the supplies from Gloomsdale.

I gazed around the tiny attic, terror filling me. I remembered the crumbling walls and rusty furniture. It was no wonder the farmhouse was in such poor condition. They were all remnants from the fire. The fire where John had perished. Or at least, they thought he had. All I knew was that I couldn't stay here anymore.

That night, I enacted my plan to run away. I knew it was reckless, and I didn't have much of a plan. But I wasn't thinking clearly. I was just desperate to escape the farm, after everything I had seen and read. The more I scanned the words, the more terrified I felt about being stuck here. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened here years ago. I knew I couldn't stay here any longer without being reminded of it whenever I glanced around the farmhouse.

I snuck down from the attic with my bag slung over my shoulder, after checking to make sure I had everything. I moved as quietly as possible through the farmhouse. It was even more eerie now that I knew there had been a fire here. I jumped at every creak of the rickety floorboards and bump in the darkness. I hesitated in front of the door, wondering if I was really going to do this. I told myself I could always return to the farmhouse if I changed my mind. I pushed the door open and stepped into the cold night air.

The farm was more silent and still than I had ever seen it. The grass glistened with rain, and the crops swayed gently in the night breeze. Everything seemed different from in the day. I almost felt peaceful as I wandered through the dark, silent farm. I glanced up at the tall wall of cornstalks, almost black under the dark sky. I knew I needed to cross them if I wanted to leave the town. But I wasn't sure if I could. I remembered how I had gotten lost last time, and the chicken that was still out there. But if the chicken could make it across, so could I.

I stepped up to the front of the cornfield, glancing up into the darkness. I realized it was too dark to see anything. I rummaged through my bag, but I couldn't find anything that provided light. I couldn't believe I hadn't packed anything. I wasn't about to go running through the cornfield in the middle of the night without any light. I had managed to get lost even in broad daylight. I turned and headed back to the farmhouse. I was almost glad for the excuse to leave.

As I entered the farmhouse, I caught sight of the jack-o-lantern, glistening in the kitchen. The wide grin made me grimace, but it might provide enough light for me. I hesitated as I stepped up to the kitchen, remembering the fire I had read about. But I'd be very careful. And if I took the jack-o-lantern outside, there wouldn't be any fire in the farmhouse. There were probably other things that provided light, but I wasn't about to go snooping around in the middle of the night and wake everyone up. I felt worried every time I glanced up at the jack-o-lantern, afraid it'd fall over and set the farmhouse on fire again. I decided I had to take it away. I thought they were careless to keep something like that right there, ready to start another fire.

I carefully set my bag down outside the kitchen and dragged one of the stools over to the front of the fridge. I climbed onto the stool and glanced up at the jack-o-lantern. The glowing grin caused me to wince, and I considered stepping back down. I reached up and gripped the sides of the pumpkin with both hands. I almost let go at the burning sensation, but it was a relief in the coldness of the night. I gripped the pumpkin tightly, feeling the warmth spread through my cold hands. Then I carefully lifted it, surprised by how much it weighed. The fire flickered inside the pumpkin as I stepped off the stool. The eyes seemed to stare straight at me, glowing in the dim light. My hand slipped as I saw them flicker. I panicked for a moment before grabbing the pumpkin before it fell. I clutched the jack-o-lantern tightly, careful to stay away from the fire. I stopped to hoist my bag over my shoulders before leaving. To my relief, I managed to make it out of the farmhouse without setting anything on fire. Now I just had to get through the cornfields.

I carried the jack-o-lantern carefully as I walked across the farm. The light cast a pale glow over the ground, illuminating the way. I kept my gaze fixed on the jack-o-lantern, afraid of dropping it. I could've sworn I felt it shaking a few times, but it was probably due to my trembling hands. To my relief, I didn't drop it once. I was so focused on the jack-o-lantern, I almost bumped into the cornfield. I glanced up at the tall stalks that towered over me, illuminated by the pale light. It didn't seem like a fire, but it was too dark to tell. I hesitated, wondering if I was really going to go through with this. Well, it was too late to back out now. I held the jack-o-lantern up as I stepped into the cornfield.

I raised my head from the jack-o-lantern, observing the dimly lit path as I made my way through the tall stalks. Somehow, it seemed more eerie in the pale light. I wasn't entirely sure it was a fire, but it lit the way. I wasn't sure if the path would lead right out of the farm, but I wasn't about to wander off this time. I managed to remain on it, figuring I could turn back if it didn't lead anywhere. I had almost reached the end when I heard muffled noises in the distance. It was the unmistakeable sound of clucking.

I froze as the clucking grew louder. I knew there was only one thing that could come from, and why it was here. I remembered the chicken I had let loose. It might still be here. I almost shrieked in terror as well, gripping the jack-o-lantern tighter. I panicked, like when I was riding the horse. The last thing I wanted was to run into the chicken in the middle of the night. I couldn't help thinking it would be mad at me for letting it loose here, even though I knew that thought was ridiculous. But like last time, I wasn't thinking clearly. As the sounds increased, I realized they were coming from behind me. They were slowly getting closer. I couldn't even turn back.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a nearby squawk. It seemed to echo through the cornfield. Before I could stop myself, I turned and ran into the field again, disappearing into the tall cornstalks. The stalks brushed against my sides as I walked as fast as I could, clutching the jack-o-lantern tightly. I was desperate to get away from the chicken.

I didn't have to run far before I bumped into something. I dropped the jack-o-lantern from my hand. It hit the ground with a thud, but thankfully, didn't fall over. I glanced up, my heart sinking as I caught sight of the tall, grinning scarecrow. The burlap face was illuminated by the pale light, the wide grin almost the same as the one on the jack-o-lantern. It sent a shudder down my spine as I backed away. I wished I hadn't wandered off again. I must've gone further than last time, since I ran into the scarecrow easily without having to search for it. But at least I couldn't hear the chicken anymore.

I turned around, wondering if I could make it back on the trail. I could only see darkness now. All the light was on the scarecrow. The next moment, I jumped out of my skin as I heard yells close to me. It was somebody calling my name.

I remembered Chicken Chicken also takes place at a farm. I don't think chicken, or livestock in general are mentioned in The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight (aside from horses).