"Learn To Be Lonely" by Firefly-ErinMW
Author's Notes
Unfortunately I don't own any of the characters in this story, they're all property of Tim Burton, but I thought it'd be interesting to hear from Edward as the movie ends. These are his thoughts of Kim as she leaves, and Kim as he hopes she might come back. I've taken a break from my other fics to do this little oneshot, and I hope it turns out alright! Please R&R, thanks!
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I stood in the window and watched her leave. She stopped at the head of the stairs leading out, holding my extra hand in hers, dusty with cobwebs, and said something to the gawking ladies from down the street. After clamoring like they did, they took one look at that hand and stopped dead in their tracks. Not even the sight of Jim plummeting from my window had silenced them. Why did they like to talk so much? Tell everyone about everything. It gives people the wrong ideas, and then people become mean. Why do people do that? I don't understand it. Joyce was the best at it. She liked to make up stories.
But it didn't matter then. I watched Kim leave. She and the officer convinced the ladies to leave, too. Kim looked up at my window one last time, and as I looked in her eyes she cried a little bit. She waved at me and walked away. I didn't want her to go. She wasn't like the others—she didn't make up stories. As I watched her leave something inside my chest began to hurt, and then my throat felt like there was a big knot in it. Please don't leave. I tried to say it, but the knot wouldn't let the words out.
So I decided to wait for her. She said she loved me. And I think she might be back. Every winter I make her ice sculptures, and tree sculptures, as well. Sometimes a stray dog will wander through my garden and I will give him a haircut. They always like that. There have been a lot of winters since that night, the night where Jim fell and Kim danced. And now I feel like my legs don't move as fast anymore. I get tired easy.
Kim still hasn't come to see me. But I wait everyday for her. Every day, I make sure the sculptures are looking their best; I wouldn't want Kim thinking I've not been taking care of things. But it gets hard sometimes. I can't stop thinking about that night. It seems like all the days repeat themselves over and over again. Sometimes it can be frightening, but there is always one thing that comforts me: Kim. The one thing that causes me the most grief also gives me the greatest joy. At night I dream of her, in that white dress, dancing in the snow…. She turns like a ballerina, smiling at me from below, and if I could I would go back to that moment and play it again and again.
And when I wake up I stand at my window, the same window Jim fell from, the same window from which I watched her leave, and pretend I can see her dancing through the gardens and up to the door, coming for me as I always hoped she would. Sometimes I close my eyes and think, "She'll be there when I open them."
But she never is.
