Disclaimer - I don't own Edward or any other characters featuring in the
film "Edward Scissorhands." However, Mike and any new characters belong to
me.
Thank you very much for the nice reviews of the last chapter. I am sorry if this next one is shorter, and a bit boring but I need to move things along in this way otherwise it may not make sense. Thank you also Vetmeddoc for beta reading the beginning of this story and helping me make it a lot better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel Tears
Chapter 2 - Farewell to the Sun
The next morning, after the best sleep in five years, Mike woke just as the warm pink glow of very early sunrise spread over the horizon. It crept through the curtains, round corners and filled every inch of his body with a great feeling of contentment.
As he dressed, he could think of nothing else but the boy Jonathan and his sad words. Over and over again, he saw his face in his mind, divine yet so unutterably sad. Thinking about it brought tears to his own eyes, and he was surprised to find his eyes wet and sparkling.
"I must help him - I must. This boy, Edward, I don't know how but I will do my best to look after him. As if he was my own brother."
As if in answer, the light brightened and the sliver of gold that heralded the presence of the sun peeked over the apartment rooftops.
"Thanks John." Mike said gratefully. "I will need all the help I can get."
That settled it, after all these years he had been finally released and given a new purpose. Even the painful tightness of his scars did not bother him as he bustled around and collected various articles from around the shabby rooms. Much crashing and hunting through piles of papers later, he stood in the centre of the lounge with a small tattered leather bag, which now held some basic travelling articles.
Taking one last look round the room, he gave a deep sigh as he took in all of the papers and books lying around, as if discarded and forgotten.
"I will find a way. I promise you, I won't forget." He whispered so softly that not a speck of dust stirred.
Striding purposefully towards the door, he opened it and looked back one last time.
"This may be the end of the road."
The door slammed. A single piece of paper fell from a hall shelf and floated gently onto the mat.
The title read "I love you, my son."
**************
All the way to his office, Mike could not concentrate. He shifted in his seat on the train, and tried desperately to avoid the nagging sense of claustrophobia beginning to rise in his mind.
The train was crowded as usual, and all around bodies were pressing in on him. Angry faces glared at him from behind newspapers, and mothers took one look at his gaunt, tatty appearance and shepherded their children into their arms. In his feverish state, he imagined the newspapers to be evil masks, and cowered lower, as if trying to sink into the floor. The only thing that kept him going was the importance of his trip. It was time to end the torture that began long ago.
Staggering from the train ten minutes later, he groped for the fresh air and stumbled up the steps and into the foyer. Leaning against the wall, he wondered what had made him panic so. True, he never liked riding the train, but it had been a while since he lost control like that. Usually he just sat as quietly as possible and read a book, but this time the feeling of menace was unmistakable, and he had to leave as quickly as possible.
Thinking, he surmised that it was probably the intense events of yesterday that had caused him to drop his guard. His meticulous mental defences had been all but shattered by the experience of the previous evening, and he realised with a shock that he was completely unprepared.
"What will they say? I have no idea how to tell them." He muttered, as he adopted a painfully controlled posture and began the short trek to his office.
"Just keep it short."
He pushed open a grimy glass door and entered his office building. As always, the first thing that struck him was the smell. It was the smell of a carpet not washed since the dawn of time, of gathering dust and pungent disinfectant. It made him want to wince, but his pride would not allow it. Instead he strode up to a small scruffy desk in the centre of the hall, and tried to make his presence felt:
"Excuse me? I need to speak to Andrew. That is, if he's not in a meeting."
The bored looking secretary didn't even bother to look up.
"It finished in five minutes. You can stand outside as long as you are quiet. Fourth floor, third door on your left."
Mike waited for some sort of small talk, but got none. Sighing he muttered "Thanks." and made his way past the desk to the lifts.
As the door of the lift closed, he realised that the secretary was so bored because there was no way that anyone would ever want to come into that building. The wallpaper was browning and aged, the pot plants were sadly neglected, and the overall air of something no one cared about was obviously infectious.
"I had no choice. But I will be so glad to see the back of this place."
He stopped his voice just in time, as the lift doors opened, and some dreary business types attempted to shuffle their way into the lift. Mike politely pushed his way past them, and made his way down the hall. Pausing outside the third door on the left, he noticed it was slightly ajar. Raised voices could be heard from inside.
"What do you mean, cutbacks?! Yes, I admit there has been a lack of work recently - "
The first voice was rudely interrupted by a second, shrill and brimming with sarcasm.
"Lack of work? There has been none! We have twice as many staff as we need, and I am telling you some must go a.s.a.p. If you don't want to leave yourself, I expect you to get shot of the others this very day!"
The first voice, which Mike now recognised as his old friend Andrew, muttered complaints and faint objections, but all in vain. There was a final "Just do it Andrew!" and then in a swirling of skirt an old bird-like woman pushed past him and stormed to the lift. Andrew poked his head round the door sheepishly, and then started as he saw Mike standing there, obviously having heard.
"Hey, look I can deal with her, Mike. Don't worry about it."
Mike raised his hands pleadingly.
"No, no it's ok Andy. Hey, I knew from the start that this was a temporary thing. In fact, I have a bit of news to tell you myself."
Andy looked puzzled as he studied Mike closely, but he could account for no good reason behind the shining, happy look in his friend's usually withdrawn features. Then, it hit him:
"Hey don't tell me you came into money? Good God you deserve it though! You won't be needing this place anymore."
Mike laughed, and patted his friend on the back, the weakness of his gesture emphasised by the bagginess of his sleeve. Unconsciously, Andrew followed the gesture, a worried look crossing his face.
"Nothing like that. I just have somewhere else to be. I'm quitting Andy, for good."
Andy's face darkened.
"What do you mean? You do have another job, right? Hey, I know it's none of my business, but you're a strange guy Mike, and we worry about you. You going to be ok?"
His eyes wandered again to Mike's long sleeves. Mike self-consciously crossed them behind his back, feeling the tissues tighten. Andrew shuffled uncomfortably.
"Sorry, forget I asked. Just be careful ok?"
Mike nodded, suddenly feeling very sad. This place had supported him, barely, for almost two years and he realised that Andrew did care about what happened to him. Shaking his head sadly, he managed to get out:
"Take care, Andy. Tell the others goodbye, and thanks. Thanks for looking after me. I'll be alright."
Will a small wave, he turned and walked away down the corridor, all the while feeling Andrew's eyes following, boring into his back. Instead of facing the doors of the lift when he entered, he leant against the panel looking at the floor, holding on to the thought that now, he was free.
Exiting the lift, his face had a look of grim determination. He strode past the secretary who looked up at the sudden movement and saw his back as his baggy jumper flapped about him and his socks showed above his trousers.
"Good luck sir." She whispered. She never knew why she had said it, only that it was right.
************
Later that day, as the sun was saying it's final farewell, a very dusty Mike scrambled out of a taxi at the foot of what seemed to be a small mountain. The purple rays of the dying day hit it, but seemed to be absorbed. No light came from it or seemed to reach it, yet all the angles of the huge castle that dominated the slope were thrown into sharp relief. It towered over the landscape, a thorn among the flowers of perfectly manicured gardens and pastel houses. The gates were boarded, and a bramble 10 feet high formed a seemingly impenetrable barrier right round the base. Looking up at it, he could see why the driver had thought him mad:
"Listen, son. Why the hell d'you want to go there?! The place is haunted - not that I'm a suspicious man - but anyone can tell that place is bad news."
Mike looked at him as though he himself was mad.
"I promised someone." He said, so quietly the driver could barely hear it.
"Oh right, a bet? Well I hope it's worth it. Me, I wouldn't go up there if all the demons of the Earth was after me!"
Mike had just sat and thought about how exaggerated taxi driver's tales were. Now he saw that there were rare occasions when they were right. If ever there were a haunted house, Mike would bet that it was this one. Inwardly shuddering, he took a deep breath and clambered over the gate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phew! That one took a while coming. Sorry about the delay. I hope you like it. Don't worry, Edward WILL arrive next chapter. Promise =D
Comments and constructive criticism welcomed and encouraged!
Thank you very much for the nice reviews of the last chapter. I am sorry if this next one is shorter, and a bit boring but I need to move things along in this way otherwise it may not make sense. Thank you also Vetmeddoc for beta reading the beginning of this story and helping me make it a lot better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel Tears
Chapter 2 - Farewell to the Sun
The next morning, after the best sleep in five years, Mike woke just as the warm pink glow of very early sunrise spread over the horizon. It crept through the curtains, round corners and filled every inch of his body with a great feeling of contentment.
As he dressed, he could think of nothing else but the boy Jonathan and his sad words. Over and over again, he saw his face in his mind, divine yet so unutterably sad. Thinking about it brought tears to his own eyes, and he was surprised to find his eyes wet and sparkling.
"I must help him - I must. This boy, Edward, I don't know how but I will do my best to look after him. As if he was my own brother."
As if in answer, the light brightened and the sliver of gold that heralded the presence of the sun peeked over the apartment rooftops.
"Thanks John." Mike said gratefully. "I will need all the help I can get."
That settled it, after all these years he had been finally released and given a new purpose. Even the painful tightness of his scars did not bother him as he bustled around and collected various articles from around the shabby rooms. Much crashing and hunting through piles of papers later, he stood in the centre of the lounge with a small tattered leather bag, which now held some basic travelling articles.
Taking one last look round the room, he gave a deep sigh as he took in all of the papers and books lying around, as if discarded and forgotten.
"I will find a way. I promise you, I won't forget." He whispered so softly that not a speck of dust stirred.
Striding purposefully towards the door, he opened it and looked back one last time.
"This may be the end of the road."
The door slammed. A single piece of paper fell from a hall shelf and floated gently onto the mat.
The title read "I love you, my son."
**************
All the way to his office, Mike could not concentrate. He shifted in his seat on the train, and tried desperately to avoid the nagging sense of claustrophobia beginning to rise in his mind.
The train was crowded as usual, and all around bodies were pressing in on him. Angry faces glared at him from behind newspapers, and mothers took one look at his gaunt, tatty appearance and shepherded their children into their arms. In his feverish state, he imagined the newspapers to be evil masks, and cowered lower, as if trying to sink into the floor. The only thing that kept him going was the importance of his trip. It was time to end the torture that began long ago.
Staggering from the train ten minutes later, he groped for the fresh air and stumbled up the steps and into the foyer. Leaning against the wall, he wondered what had made him panic so. True, he never liked riding the train, but it had been a while since he lost control like that. Usually he just sat as quietly as possible and read a book, but this time the feeling of menace was unmistakable, and he had to leave as quickly as possible.
Thinking, he surmised that it was probably the intense events of yesterday that had caused him to drop his guard. His meticulous mental defences had been all but shattered by the experience of the previous evening, and he realised with a shock that he was completely unprepared.
"What will they say? I have no idea how to tell them." He muttered, as he adopted a painfully controlled posture and began the short trek to his office.
"Just keep it short."
He pushed open a grimy glass door and entered his office building. As always, the first thing that struck him was the smell. It was the smell of a carpet not washed since the dawn of time, of gathering dust and pungent disinfectant. It made him want to wince, but his pride would not allow it. Instead he strode up to a small scruffy desk in the centre of the hall, and tried to make his presence felt:
"Excuse me? I need to speak to Andrew. That is, if he's not in a meeting."
The bored looking secretary didn't even bother to look up.
"It finished in five minutes. You can stand outside as long as you are quiet. Fourth floor, third door on your left."
Mike waited for some sort of small talk, but got none. Sighing he muttered "Thanks." and made his way past the desk to the lifts.
As the door of the lift closed, he realised that the secretary was so bored because there was no way that anyone would ever want to come into that building. The wallpaper was browning and aged, the pot plants were sadly neglected, and the overall air of something no one cared about was obviously infectious.
"I had no choice. But I will be so glad to see the back of this place."
He stopped his voice just in time, as the lift doors opened, and some dreary business types attempted to shuffle their way into the lift. Mike politely pushed his way past them, and made his way down the hall. Pausing outside the third door on the left, he noticed it was slightly ajar. Raised voices could be heard from inside.
"What do you mean, cutbacks?! Yes, I admit there has been a lack of work recently - "
The first voice was rudely interrupted by a second, shrill and brimming with sarcasm.
"Lack of work? There has been none! We have twice as many staff as we need, and I am telling you some must go a.s.a.p. If you don't want to leave yourself, I expect you to get shot of the others this very day!"
The first voice, which Mike now recognised as his old friend Andrew, muttered complaints and faint objections, but all in vain. There was a final "Just do it Andrew!" and then in a swirling of skirt an old bird-like woman pushed past him and stormed to the lift. Andrew poked his head round the door sheepishly, and then started as he saw Mike standing there, obviously having heard.
"Hey, look I can deal with her, Mike. Don't worry about it."
Mike raised his hands pleadingly.
"No, no it's ok Andy. Hey, I knew from the start that this was a temporary thing. In fact, I have a bit of news to tell you myself."
Andy looked puzzled as he studied Mike closely, but he could account for no good reason behind the shining, happy look in his friend's usually withdrawn features. Then, it hit him:
"Hey don't tell me you came into money? Good God you deserve it though! You won't be needing this place anymore."
Mike laughed, and patted his friend on the back, the weakness of his gesture emphasised by the bagginess of his sleeve. Unconsciously, Andrew followed the gesture, a worried look crossing his face.
"Nothing like that. I just have somewhere else to be. I'm quitting Andy, for good."
Andy's face darkened.
"What do you mean? You do have another job, right? Hey, I know it's none of my business, but you're a strange guy Mike, and we worry about you. You going to be ok?"
His eyes wandered again to Mike's long sleeves. Mike self-consciously crossed them behind his back, feeling the tissues tighten. Andrew shuffled uncomfortably.
"Sorry, forget I asked. Just be careful ok?"
Mike nodded, suddenly feeling very sad. This place had supported him, barely, for almost two years and he realised that Andrew did care about what happened to him. Shaking his head sadly, he managed to get out:
"Take care, Andy. Tell the others goodbye, and thanks. Thanks for looking after me. I'll be alright."
Will a small wave, he turned and walked away down the corridor, all the while feeling Andrew's eyes following, boring into his back. Instead of facing the doors of the lift when he entered, he leant against the panel looking at the floor, holding on to the thought that now, he was free.
Exiting the lift, his face had a look of grim determination. He strode past the secretary who looked up at the sudden movement and saw his back as his baggy jumper flapped about him and his socks showed above his trousers.
"Good luck sir." She whispered. She never knew why she had said it, only that it was right.
************
Later that day, as the sun was saying it's final farewell, a very dusty Mike scrambled out of a taxi at the foot of what seemed to be a small mountain. The purple rays of the dying day hit it, but seemed to be absorbed. No light came from it or seemed to reach it, yet all the angles of the huge castle that dominated the slope were thrown into sharp relief. It towered over the landscape, a thorn among the flowers of perfectly manicured gardens and pastel houses. The gates were boarded, and a bramble 10 feet high formed a seemingly impenetrable barrier right round the base. Looking up at it, he could see why the driver had thought him mad:
"Listen, son. Why the hell d'you want to go there?! The place is haunted - not that I'm a suspicious man - but anyone can tell that place is bad news."
Mike looked at him as though he himself was mad.
"I promised someone." He said, so quietly the driver could barely hear it.
"Oh right, a bet? Well I hope it's worth it. Me, I wouldn't go up there if all the demons of the Earth was after me!"
Mike had just sat and thought about how exaggerated taxi driver's tales were. Now he saw that there were rare occasions when they were right. If ever there were a haunted house, Mike would bet that it was this one. Inwardly shuddering, he took a deep breath and clambered over the gate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phew! That one took a while coming. Sorry about the delay. I hope you like it. Don't worry, Edward WILL arrive next chapter. Promise =D
Comments and constructive criticism welcomed and encouraged!