Dawn had broke, and the misty colors swifted through the early sky. A light snowfall during the night, the snow so white and pure.
The birds chirping on the windowsill, and the town down below. The town was quiet, no one seemed up yet.
Edward lay abrupt alone in the cornor, he had a restless night, and was catching up on his sleep.
But shortly after a few hours sleep, the near church bell went off loudly, sending a cool vibration through his body. He woke up with a jolt.
He was sad being alone, in here cold and bored. But he did not want to go back into the town, for they didn't like him. Edward was ashamed of his sharp scissor hands.
He looked at them in disappointment, how he wished to have normal hands.
The black bags under his eyes, was not only a permanent part of his face, but also a sign of depression. Depression from sitting around alone all day, praying for his master, who had died.
His master undertood him, and was a nice man.. But he never had the chance to finish him. So he would pine away, slouched in his cornor, and some times look out his window, looking down at the village from a birds eye view.
Wishing.. Wishing he could be normal and be down there too. But no one would want him down there any more, he was too much of a hassle.
It was cold in his room, and it was filled with layers of dust. There was no light in the room, and the walls were torn and were starting to crumble.
Edward always dwelled on the fact that he had no emotions, but since he was banished from the town, he slowly became aware of emotions.
"I was a mistake," Edward said muttering to himself, degrading his self esteim another notch. Ice cold tears ran down his pale cheeks.