You remember being knocked out, hit over the head or perhaps in the chest with something large and heavy. Or maybe… maybe it just felt large when it hit you, perhaps it was very small. You might have been shot. You remember bleeding, yes, and a disturbingly cold feeling creeping from your insides out; but you do not remember what happened after that. All you know is that you’re awake again, and this place is very musty and dark. It’s soft though, like a cushion of some kind is underneath you. Which means that though you remember last being on a floor, it is not a floor that you are currently lying on.

buried alive

You move your hand slightly to the right and are startled when it hits something silk and soft. You wonder for a moment if there could be another person lying next to you and it is their dress you have grazed with your hand. You again touch this area and push down, but instead of flesh underneath the silk you feel more cushioning. You move your left hand and experience the same. You try to sit up but before you can even reach a thirty degree angle your head connects with more of this soft cushioning. You push your hands up against it and slowly begin to realize where you are.

The musty air, the lining of the inside of this box that you are in. They all must have assumed you were dead. They must have buried you alive thinking that you had gone to the other world. Panic sets in quickly and you begin using up what little air was left in the confined area. You scream and you bang on the ceiling of your coffin with all of your might but there is no way out.

May we reconvene under the blood red moon,
-Black Widow

scarecrow

According to Freud, the subconscious was simply a holding tank for all of ones repressed desires and emotions. Jung agreed with him on this point, but also believed there was another level beyond this ‘personal unconscious’ called the ‘collective unconscious’. In this collective unconscious (something that all humans shared) are archetypal figures drive us to go through stages of life, some of which might include being nurtured, accepted, courted, wed, and becoming prepared for death. These archetypes he claimed, are innate and universal, which is the reason why it is not hard to find similarities in all ancient folklore across the globe. It is why we tend to have the same symbols for the same things, and have similar rituals.

The scarecrow costume is one of these archetypes. No, not just something to scare away the crows from your fields or to follow Dorothy skipping down the yellow brick road. The scarecrow represents ‘the shadow’ archetype. The shadow, in dreams is a dark and terrible figure because the shadow is the side of yourself that you do not wish to show to others. All nice people have dark inner thoughts that they choose not to acknowledge or act upon because they identify with this mask of being ‘nice’, likewise all mean and nasty people have a shadow that is nice, which they also choose to ignore. We all have the capacity to be good or bad, but once you make up your mind to be a certain way in society, the shadow is what you have left behind.

The scarecrow is a fearful figure because for most of us, it is all the bad inside that we never want to see. It is only natural that this figure would come up in movies or print as something undesirable ranging from someone with no self confidence who wishes that he only had a brain (wizard of oz), to someone who acts upon his want to see others minds destroyed by fear (batman begins). So the next time that you see a scarecrow in film, books, or even your own dreams, you have a little insight as to why the writer (or your own mind) has put it there.

May we reconvene under the blood red moon,
-Black Widow

If you know what’s good for you, then you’ll know to only accept food and drink from certain people, people that you can trust. Oh, and you’re very aware of what is good for you as well as what is bad. As someone in a princess costume, it would not be surprising that at least one person out there in that grand wilderness we call society would be meaning to kill you. You’re not being foolish (not in the least!) and of course there is no such thing as being overly cautious. Cautious people remained alive, while gung-ho type persons that threw reason to the wind, did not. Not to say that you are the type of person who remains indoors constantly for fear of the unknown. You just happen to know the odds for how you will be killed, and they all favor ‘murder’.

poison

Today began like any other day; you woke, dressed, and bathed with the unnecessary help of your most trusted servant and meandered about the house popping in on relatives and servants alike but speaking with neither for an extended period of time. You came down to the breakfast table and browsed the paper while sipping some tea. The tea today seemed hotter than usual, but maybe that wasn’t right. It seemed hotter inside you after you drank it, like a dull fire down your esophagus and in your stomach. You look at your butler inquisitively, and he looks back at you concerned. You ask him why he is making such a face and he responds that you don’t look well. It seems that just as he says so, you begin to feel quite unwell. Your pulse begins to race and your breathing picks up considerably. You stand, though you are not quite sure where you were meaning to go, and almost immediately collapse.

The last image you see before your eyelids grow heavy is his face, the face of your most trusted servant, your butler grinning down at you.

May we reconvene under the blood red moon,
-Black Widow