Edward was scared.
Huddled in a corner of the attic, Edward looked up through the collapsed roof at the stars in the sky. The moon shone brightly onto the floor, offering plenty light but little warmth for poor Edward. He was scared, and sat nervously in the shadows.
He met his family in these shadows.
Edward looked over toward his small shrine of paper cutouts he had crafted over time inside the old fireplace at the opposite end of the attic. Collections of old newspaper clippings and pictures that the Inventor had given to him so many years ago. And Peg - she stood right there when now it seemed so long ago, asking him to come out.
"There's no reason for you to be afraid."
Edward snipped nervously at the thought. Slowly rising to his feet, Edward's arms stretched away from his side as his scissorhands hung loosely towards the ground. "I'm not afraid," He gently reassured himself, taking a few nippy steps into the moonlight.
He quickly found himself standing back in the shadows.
Facing the wall, Edward closed his eyes. He couldn't stop shaking, his fingers snipped in anxiety. He was afraid. Afraid of being alone.
"Kim," he called out. Silence answered him.
Edward scanned the room slowly with his eyes, confirming his isolation. He lowered his head in quiet despair, shuffling slowly across the room toward the staircase. The sound of his footsteps seemed a welcome noise to the stillness of the mansion. Edward didn't like the quiet. He didn't like it at all. Without the gentle common sounds of Suburbia that once lulled him to sleep on the pullout couch at the Boggs' home, Edward knew he was alone.
Suddenly, Edward had an idea.
A small grin crossed Edwards's lips. He moved quickly down the dusty staircase to the floor below. The lower room was quite large, and Edward moved briskly across it, scampering to a large door at the end of a wide hallway. Half-shut, the dusty doorknob and rusty hinges gently reminded Edward that this room had not been entered in a long time. Edward used his shoulder to creek it open and entered.
It was a great room - mechanical devices lined the walls, leaving Edward to ponder their purpose. In the center of the room was a strange looking device - an invention of the Inventor's. It had a long, metal conveyer belt with strange appliances that looked suspiciously like metal legs, which dangled above it
The cookie machine.
Edward walked slowly around the invention, lips perched in his innocent look of fascination and wonder. He let his scissors move gently across the side of the belt. The Inventor loved cookies. So did Edward. In fact, they were one of his favourites. Edward grinned. Stopping in front of a small panel, Edward stared at the switch sticking straight out of it. Covered in cobwebs and coated with dust, he flicked it upwards and stepped back.
The cookie machine came to life.
Steam hissing, metal moving, Edward's smile broadened as he watched an egg be carried by a thin metal grip overtops of a bowl. A hammer cracked it open and Edward observed as the spinners that spun with mechanical grace mixed the egg with affection. The legs that hung loosely over the belt now jumped and danced, crafting their designs into the dough that ran under its feet. The oven welcomed warmly the treats as the belt carried them preciously inside. Edward walked to the back of the cookie machine. Finished cookies would fall gently into a large box positioned at the end of the conveyer belt. A cookie was coming out of the oven now. Edward beamed with excitement, and nudged the catching box a little closer with his arm.
A cookie heart fell into the box.
Edward stared down at the cookie, it's shape captivating and stirring. His smile faded. Extending out his hand he shut off the panel - the cookie machine sputtered to a halt. Edward was once again left in silence as he stared into the box at his cookie.
His cookie heart.
As gently as he ever could be, Edward picked up his cookie. Gripped loosely between two scissors, he stared at it, mesmerized.
All he could think about was Kim.
Kim. He missed her so much. If only he could see her again - if only he had a picture to keep him company, the pain may be easier. He remembered the first time he saw her picture on the bookshelf. She was an angel. He fell in love with an angel.
The cookie crumbled between his scissors. Stepping back, Edward stared at the broken pieces lying on the floor. His broken heart. Edward knelt down, trying frantically to pick up the pieces, but he couldn't. The more he tried the more his heart broke. He lost his cookie. He lost the one thing he loved most.
"Kim," He whispered once more into the empty air.
Rising to his feet, Edward continued to gaze down at his broken cookie. Slowly closing his eyes, a tear fell from his cheek onto the cold stone floor below. Trotting away in his delicate walk Edward left the room, his broken heart lying silently on the floor.
Huddled in a corner of the attic, Edward looked up through the collapsed roof at the stars in the sky. The moon shone brightly onto the floor, offering plenty light but little warmth for poor Edward. He was scared, and sat nervously in the shadows.
He met his family in these shadows.
Edward looked over toward his small shrine of paper cutouts he had crafted over time inside the old fireplace at the opposite end of the attic. Collections of old newspaper clippings and pictures that the Inventor had given to him so many years ago. And Peg - she stood right there when now it seemed so long ago, asking him to come out.
"There's no reason for you to be afraid."
Edward snipped nervously at the thought. Slowly rising to his feet, Edward's arms stretched away from his side as his scissorhands hung loosely towards the ground. "I'm not afraid," He gently reassured himself, taking a few nippy steps into the moonlight.
He quickly found himself standing back in the shadows.
Facing the wall, Edward closed his eyes. He couldn't stop shaking, his fingers snipped in anxiety. He was afraid. Afraid of being alone.
"Kim," he called out. Silence answered him.
Edward scanned the room slowly with his eyes, confirming his isolation. He lowered his head in quiet despair, shuffling slowly across the room toward the staircase. The sound of his footsteps seemed a welcome noise to the stillness of the mansion. Edward didn't like the quiet. He didn't like it at all. Without the gentle common sounds of Suburbia that once lulled him to sleep on the pullout couch at the Boggs' home, Edward knew he was alone.
Suddenly, Edward had an idea.
A small grin crossed Edwards's lips. He moved quickly down the dusty staircase to the floor below. The lower room was quite large, and Edward moved briskly across it, scampering to a large door at the end of a wide hallway. Half-shut, the dusty doorknob and rusty hinges gently reminded Edward that this room had not been entered in a long time. Edward used his shoulder to creek it open and entered.
It was a great room - mechanical devices lined the walls, leaving Edward to ponder their purpose. In the center of the room was a strange looking device - an invention of the Inventor's. It had a long, metal conveyer belt with strange appliances that looked suspiciously like metal legs, which dangled above it
The cookie machine.
Edward walked slowly around the invention, lips perched in his innocent look of fascination and wonder. He let his scissors move gently across the side of the belt. The Inventor loved cookies. So did Edward. In fact, they were one of his favourites. Edward grinned. Stopping in front of a small panel, Edward stared at the switch sticking straight out of it. Covered in cobwebs and coated with dust, he flicked it upwards and stepped back.
The cookie machine came to life.
Steam hissing, metal moving, Edward's smile broadened as he watched an egg be carried by a thin metal grip overtops of a bowl. A hammer cracked it open and Edward observed as the spinners that spun with mechanical grace mixed the egg with affection. The legs that hung loosely over the belt now jumped and danced, crafting their designs into the dough that ran under its feet. The oven welcomed warmly the treats as the belt carried them preciously inside. Edward walked to the back of the cookie machine. Finished cookies would fall gently into a large box positioned at the end of the conveyer belt. A cookie was coming out of the oven now. Edward beamed with excitement, and nudged the catching box a little closer with his arm.
A cookie heart fell into the box.
Edward stared down at the cookie, it's shape captivating and stirring. His smile faded. Extending out his hand he shut off the panel - the cookie machine sputtered to a halt. Edward was once again left in silence as he stared into the box at his cookie.
His cookie heart.
As gently as he ever could be, Edward picked up his cookie. Gripped loosely between two scissors, he stared at it, mesmerized.
All he could think about was Kim.
Kim. He missed her so much. If only he could see her again - if only he had a picture to keep him company, the pain may be easier. He remembered the first time he saw her picture on the bookshelf. She was an angel. He fell in love with an angel.
The cookie crumbled between his scissors. Stepping back, Edward stared at the broken pieces lying on the floor. His broken heart. Edward knelt down, trying frantically to pick up the pieces, but he couldn't. The more he tried the more his heart broke. He lost his cookie. He lost the one thing he loved most.
"Kim," He whispered once more into the empty air.
Rising to his feet, Edward continued to gaze down at his broken cookie. Slowly closing his eyes, a tear fell from his cheek onto the cold stone floor below. Trotting away in his delicate walk Edward left the room, his broken heart lying silently on the floor.