A/N: So, I've been a really big fan of Edward Scissorhands for a long, long time. I was too afraid to write a fic for it though because I couldn't possibly think of something that I could add to it.
So I decided to write a little oneshot about Edward and all that depressingness. So, just keep in mind that this is my first time with a Scissorhands fic when you're reviewing. ;)
Edward's POV
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Scissorhands.
The only thing I can relate to anymore is the snow. It is the only thing that I can understand and the only thing that can comfort me now that I am in my castle of solitude. As I carve up the ice I sometimes stop to watch it fall to the ground. When I watch the snowfall I a feel compassion towards it and it makes me feel like there is something else in the world that is similar to myself.
The flakes are small and pale. They shimmer with a pureness but in the end only end up melting when they make contact with the ground. If you try to touch them, the heat of the human skin burns and they turn to liquid in your grasp.
The snow is cold and icy. The mere presence of it chills you to the very bone and you want to run from it and watch it from a safe distance. You may like the snow, but it's better to stay warm than to walk around in it.
The thing about snow that I am most like, though, is that snow falls in single flakes. They don't fall to the ground in pairs. They fall by themselves and are entirely alone in their journey. They don't know companionship and they spend the duration of their short life all alone.
The only difference between snow and I is that everyone loves the snow, even if it's just from a distance. But no one loves me.
A/N: Really short. Still review?