I wanted to write Edward Scissorhands, but was a bit tired of the same old "oh, look, he's so cute and innocent" stuff. Everyone does that. I've done that. And it's great. But you can only do it for so long. So in this little bit of drabble, we still see his innocence, but also that he has a darker side. Do review on your way out!

Father taught me about many things, about art, poetry, and science. He taught me how to be polite and say "please" and "thank you" at the right times. He taught me kind words. He taught me the word "love."

I think I love Kim. No, I am sure of it, but it is not any love I have known of before. I do not love her like I love the gardens outside my home, or even like I love Father.

Father always told me that love was strong, and that a person always ought to be good to others. He said that even if a person was cruel to you, you should still be nice to them. He said he was going to teach me everything I would ever need to know. But he never told me what to do when someone is cruel to a person you love.

Jim is awful to Kim. He says he loves her, but it cannot be true, not with the way he acts towards her. I do not mind anything he tries to do to me – it is okay. But I cannot let him do anything to hurt Kim, and that is when I begin to become confused.

I could say that I do not like Jim, and it would be true, even thought I know that Father would not approve. He wanted me to be so perfect, but I still have these terrible thoughts. I was bad things to happen to Jim for the way he treats Kim. But to say that I want these things to happen because I do not like him is just not quite right. I do not like lemonade. Just like I seem to love Father and Kim in different ways, this too is different, although I am not sure how.

I want Jim to get hurt. I want him to get his feelings hurt, or maybe even hurt physically. The police thought my hands were weapons. They are not – they are just hands, even if they are not normal ones like everyone else has. I have never hurt anybody but myself with them before, and never on purpose. Even when I cut Father's face by accident he could not feel it anymore. But now I think that if I had to, I could use my hands to hurt Jim. I could do it for Kim.

I guess if love is an emotion, then this feeling is an emotion too. But it is more than just no love at all, and more than the opposite of love. Of all the words that Father taught me, I cannot think of a single one to describe how I feel about Jim. He never taught me a word that means you want bad things to happen to someone. I suppose there must be a word for it. I think it would have to be a short, sharp, angry word in order to get its idea across.

I am sorry, Father. I hope you are not ashamed of me for what I am thinking. Somehow, though, I think that you would understand. I know you would like Kim, and I think maybe you could tell me the right word for how I feel about Jim, because you might feel the same way.

Fin.