I'm being kinda lazy for a while because of summer and all. I decided to ignore my other fic for a couple days and focus on this oneshot since it was bugging me, and when I think of another story, I can't get it out of my head unless I put it down. Edward Scissorhands was my new muse, and I wanted to get this out. Hope you enjoy the suffering I endured for this. Yay.
June- I enjoyed it very much.
Get out. Now.
June- raspberry-
-rubs temple-
June- You know you love me!
Do I? Same as usual, Read and Review please. It would make life ever so much funner. And that's not even a word.
Disclaimer- Don't own, because me not a millionaire. Me also do not have the brilliant genius of Tim Burton. Darn.
The loud stomp of shoes on street pierced the night as a young girl ran down a suburban street. She did not notice that all the houses slightly looked the same as she ran without direction. All she knew was, she had to get away. Away from her family, away from her life. Things had gotten harder and, being the coward she had always been, she had run. Fled from the hardships she had never wanted to face.
Her mother had died, leaving an abusive father, who eventually got a drunk girlfriend. The blissfully perfect times were when they had ignored her, forgetting there was even a teenager in the house. But when they did notice her, things had gotten ugly quickly. She couldn't even think about what had happened. It hurt her bad. They had hurt her bad.
Silent tears ran down her face as she ran up a large hill, still not having a sense of direction. She ran to a large gate and squeezed inside. Goodness knows that she had been starved enough to fit through. The girl finally collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily to return oxygen into her fragile body.
The ominous mansion that loomed before her made the girl shiver. It was beautiful, in a weird, gothic sense. Not to mention the strangely cut bushes that were made into a large garden of some sort. She admired the sculptures that had undoubtedly taken hours from a skilled artist. Her gaze returned to the mansion. The teen was drawn to it, and she slowly picked herself off of the ground and made her way to the large, beautiful doors. She didn't bother to knock as she pushed down the large handle with difficulty. A loud creak announced the girl's arrival.
She gasped as the saw the machines in the room, ingeniously made, and surely all had a purpose.
Her mind stopped.
Even these machines had a purpose.
Did she?
'No,' She told herself, 'No I don't'
A snipping caused her head to snap toward the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move.
They could be dangerous.
But she was so curious.
A second later, she had made up her mind.
The ascent on the stairs was a little tricky. The teen was exhausted, so her feet dragged, slowing her down. Eventually she had made her way to the very top door. She found it already open, so she stepped inside.
A hole in the ceiling illuminated the large attic that the teen had stepped in. Even luckier for her, the full moon was out. She wandered around and kept a look out for the person or thing that had attracted her attention in the first place. Medium sized pieces of wood left lying on the ground warned her that the roof would cave in someday, and she prepared herself to run. Roof or anything else, she was not going to let it get the best of her.
Another stop.
She wondered if dying would seriously be all that bad. She had nothing left to live for. She had run away from her life, right? She had surprised herself with a thought of how high the attic was. Surely it was large enough jump from.
Another snipping sound interrupter her thoughts.
A dark shadow sat in the corner, knees drawn up to the figure's chest. The figure slightly flinched as the teen's head turned to look straight at it.
"Excuse me, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" The young girl asked, the hole in the roof in mind. The figure shook it's head slightly. "Are you sure? If you would come over here, I could see quite better." The figure hesitated. The girl patiently waited.
After a few short minutes of what the girl took as trying to trust her, the figure stood up, slowly making it's way toward her.
The first thing the teen noticed was that it was a man. He was very pale man, and his hair was nothing short of a mess, lying in tangles around his head. He was wearing a leather suit that looked very uncomfortable. He didn't seem to mind. The last thing that the girl noticed was his hands.
They weren't hands, per se.
They were scissors.
The girl took a cautious step back. Whatever had possessed her to wander into this house had vanished at that instant. She had to get away from this man. Anything that looked sharp had made her careful. An important trait to know where she had lived.
"Please don't go." The innocence of this statement had frozen the girl's body. He had a soft, childish voice. It made her fear almost vanish, and she suddenly wanted to know more.
"What's your name?"
"Edward."
"How long have you been here?"
"A long time." Edward looked down sadly. The teen's attention dropped back down to his hands. They were a marvel, snipping nervously in all their stainless steeled glory. She reasoned they could probably cut through anything.
"May I see your hands?" Slight surprise flitted across the man's face, but he gently raised his arm, letting her take his wrist and examine the sharp blades. She contemplated her next actions carefully. Would she risk letting this man, this boy, lose his purity for her selfish needs?
'They will do the job nicely,' She thought sadly.
Without warning, she swiftly lifted her wrist to the blade, making a smooth, clean cut across.
The blood started to pour instantly. The girl fell to the ground, crying silent tears. Edward's horrified look switched from the blade that the girl used, to the very girl herself. The teen looked up and smiled at him.
"Thank you." Her body slumped to the ground. Her cold, lifeless eyes stared into Edward's. He knew this look. He had seen it on the face of his father, the inventor, as he lay on the ground.
This girl wouldn't wake up either.
Boy, wasn't that a bit angsty? I tell you now, readers, that I have no intention of killing myself in any way, shape, or form. This was only experimentation, and a review would be nice.
June- You know, you're very disturbed.
Glad you noticed. Now you know where you got it from.
June- cringes-