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The Mummy - Original Writing

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FORGOTTEN
His mummy has said it was built by his daddy. He didn’t know who his daddy was. Or where he was. All he knew was that his daddy was an awesome warrior that was sent out to fight in a big war to help save the country. His daddy left when he was young, barely even a baby. He never really knew him to be honest. He left nothing behind either, just some clothes and an empty room. All his sentimental belongings were stored in a box – one that his mummy refused to let him touch. He knew that sometimes, when his mum was feeling down that she would pull it out and just look at it.
There was one thing however that was still left behind from him. A scarecrow, one that his dad built when his mum and dad got married and moved to the farmland.
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He spent his free hours polishing its wood and fixing its position back into place. Those days were filled with peace and quiet. Routine as he called it. Just the way he liked it.
The letters stopped coming all of a sudden. His mother got worse soon after, her face sullen and her skin pallid. It looked like the world just ceased to exist for her. She scoured those letters fervently now, every day every second was spent clinging onto the ink on the paper as if hoping for some sort of salvation.
As the innocent boy matured, days slowly turned into weeks. When he got married and had kids it turned into months. Rumours of another war started to emerge. He visited the scarecrow one last time before he left to fight. He remembered that it had been glorious – standing tall and proud under the harsh rays of the sun like a soldier, protecting its friends valiantly from the ravenous birds. Now, its bones were rotten, face decayed and legs fallen, unable to pick itself up. Its clothes were ripped, dishevelled from the attacks from the vicious crows who had long grown use to the familiar presence. The scarecrow – he thought for a moment – looked sad, almost tired as if it knew it was forgotten.
In an attempt to escape from her perpetual desolation, his mother started trying to attend outings. At first, in the accompaniment of her friends, but soon just by herself. She met someone – a man who had tragically lost his wife to a terminal disease. He was a lively man, his
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