A/N: Welcome to my third fanfiction! It's the band version of 'Edward Scissorhands,' only the plot line is going to differ a little bit from the movie itself. Don't kill me because it does. And, as I know this chapter is rather boring, I'll put up the second chapter A.S.A.P.
To those of you curious as to what Talise means, look it up on Google. You'll also find a pronunciation on there.
Don't forget Closetbrilliance, you'll never win!!
Chapter 1: Sunny Lincoln Heights
The first thing that Talise felt in her life was the cool air of the room she was in. Her delicate, translucent eyelids fluttered open, taking in everything in around her with intense curiosity. The bright florescent lights above her shone brightly, and she quickly closed her black eyes. Slowly Talise allowed herself to open her eyes, letting her pupils adjust to the lighting inside the room.
Talise sat up, her long, thin eyelashes still covering her eyes. She slowly turned her angular head around the room, trying to figure out exactly were she was. In one corner there were four marimbas and vibraphones, and there was a set of wooden doors on the opposite side of the room. A man was bent over a work-bench in the middle of the room, apparently working intently on something. Talise sat up and slid off of the matching bench, silently walking up behind the man.
She reached out a hand, and tapped his shoulder. It didn't register in Talise's brain that she was different. To her, someone with mallets for hands was completely normal. The man turned around, and a look of surprise washed over his face. She assumed it was because he was glad to see her. And, in a way, it was. "You weren't supposed to wake up for another hour." the man chuckled, turning around. Talise's hands didn't seem to phase him a bit. He clasped his normal hands around her arms, and grinned widely at the taller, more slender girl. "No matter - we have things we need to do."
"And what... is that?" she asked, her first words. Her voice was quiet and lyrical, which made the man grin even more.
"You were made for music, Talise, my dear." The man said, pulling out one of the marimbas. "Literally." This statement didn't truly register in Talise's mind. The idea of a mother or father was something unknown to someone as new to the world as her. He pulled out a stand, and put some sheet music on it. "Now play." he whispered.
.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.
During the years that passed on after that, Talise learned more about music then anyone ever could have. Soon after her 'birth', she discovered that her creator was a former band director, now turned inventor for the arts, named Andrew. Over the next twenty years, Andrew taught her everything, always aging while she still remained perfectly young. But at the same time, seeing Andrew demonstrate how to play a certain part of the music, or how to fix a marimba, Talise began longing for hands.
"Andrew," she began. He snapped his head up from his work. Talise never talked much, and was often the perfect example of the saying 'actions speak louder then words'. "What are those?" she asked. Andrew looked at where she was pointing, and lifted up his hands.
"These?" he asked. Talise nodded. "These are hands, Talise."
"I would like some." She informed him. Andrew's eyes clouded over at the request.
"You wouldn't like these old things." he said. "They aren't very useful anymore - always shaking. Besides, those mallets would ruin your pretty new hands the moment you started playing with all sorts of blisters. You don't want that, do you?"
"Please, Andrew?" Talise said. Andrew sighed sadly. How could he not refuse her - Talise was never one to want anything. Instead of sleeping on a bed in one of the rooms of the abandoned high school, she preferred the tiled floor of the band room; she didn't eat much, and didn't care about brushing her raven hair, which was now down to her back. All she really needed, it appeared, was her music and a roof over her head.
"Yes, I will." he said.
"Promise?" Talise said. Andrew raised his eyebrows.
"How do you know that word?" he asked. He hadn't introduced many human qualities to her, and this was quite on purpose. He didn't dare ruin Talise's innocence, which was beyond child-like. She was like the daughter he never had, and so he was overprotective of her.
"You left the TV on when I was asleep." Talise said.
"I see." Andrew said, making a mental note never to do that again.
"Well, do you Andrew?"
"Yes, Talise, I promise to make you some hands." She smiled, content at the answer, and went over to her favorite marimba, the one with the black rosewood keys, and played.
.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.
For the next five years, up until completion, Talise had spent the majority of her time observing Andrew working on the hands. Every day she sat on the ground, mesmerized as she watched the skin slowly grow inside a glass beaker. Sometimes she would shift her attention to Andrew, who would be attentively working on the fingernails, or making the form of the hand.
When they were finished, Andrew let them sit a day, "So I can see if I like them or not," he explained to Talise. By this time, his hair was now white, and there were a few bald patches here and there. It was also getting harder for him to walk, so Talise helped him get around. For some reason, she was stronger then most people.
The next day, Talise woke up bright and early, and went into Andrew's room to wake him up like she always did. "Andrew, wake up." She said in her normal voice. He didn't stir, so Talise shook him a little, calling his name again. Andrew still didn't move, and Talise began to worry.
"Are you mad at me Andrew?" She asked. Still no response. Talise turned over Andrew so that he was facing up. His limp hand brushed against her arm, and she leaped back in surprise at the icy coldness of it. "Andrew?" Tears came in her eyes, and she attempted to wipe them away with the ball of one of the mallets.
Talise suddenly remembered something out of one of the movies she saw while Andrew was asleep. As usual, he had left the small TV on, and this time a cop show was on. She remembered that there was a person on the ground, and his skin was ashy just like Andrew's. The policemen on the show said that he was... what was the word again? Talise shook her head as she was trying to recall it.
Dead - that was the word! By the looks on their faces, Talise could tell that it wasn't a very good thing to be. As she remembered this now, panic started overwhelming her senses.
"I have to go get help!" She murmured, leaving the band room with awkward steps. The moment she walked outside, the smell of the outdoors hit her like a brick wall. Unlike the musty old smell of the band room, the air out here was crisp and fresh. Talise walked away from the abandoned school, attempting to take everything in around her. The brick walls were now solid green with ivy, and only a few spots of red showed through. There was hard, black rock underneath her feet and it was cracked in places.
She continued down the remains of the substance, and slowly felt the air around her become heavier and smellier then the air back at the school. It frightened her a bit, but still she walked, looking for some form of life.
.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.
Many hours later, Talise was still walking, not the least bit tired. As she walked, she noticed that the bright spot in the sky was moving closer and closer toward the ground.
"The sun." She remembered suddenly, glancing back at it. The sky was a deep red now, almost like blood. The sky quickly grew dark after that, but luckily there were a few street lamps to light the way. Soon Talise walked past a sign, which stated the area was "Welcome to Sunny Lincoln Heights." She wasn't exactly sure of what that meant, but she continued.
Talise walked by what seemed like miniature versions of the school, and she began running, sure that there was someone here who could help. A huge metal machine zoomed past her left, its bright lights disorienting Talise for a moment. Another went past her right, and she moved left and right, trying to avoid whatever was coming at her.
It seemed for a brief moment, that whatever the things were had disappeared. But one more came straight toward her, and Talise stood still, her eyes wide like a deer's. She suddenly winced her eyes shut, anticipating the impact, but nothing happened. Slowly she opened them, and saw that it was still. A loud honking noise came from the previously humming marching, and she jerked back in surprise, raising her 'hands' defensively. Talise heard a scream come from the inside the thing, and glanced around, not sure what was wrong.
Finally part of the steel contraption, painted bright blue, swung out, and a red-haired woman stepped out. Talise blinked. There were people in that thing?
"Are you alright dear?" the woman asked. Talise shook her head, saying nothing. "Well, you better come with me. My husband can drive you home." Talise cocked her head sideways, not having a clue what the woman was saying.
"You have to help." Talise stuttered. "Andrew is dead!"
"Who's Andrew?" the woman asked. "Where is he?"
"I don't know." Talise admitted quietly. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the sign that she passed by as she was leaving the school. "No, wait it's... Eastwood, yes that's it, Eastwood High School."
"Climb on into the back of the car, and we'll get you help." The woman assured. She quickly walked back to the car, her high-heeled shoes clacking loudly on the ground. She opened the door to the car, as Talise assumed the contraption was called, and resumed her seat. Talise still stood in front of the car, calculating her next move.
.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.o0O0o.
"Honey," the woman began to ask, glancing anxiously out the front window at Talise. "Eastwood high school has been close for about twenty years now, hasn't it?"
"It closed in '25, from what I remember." her husband replied. "It was their last year, and me and the rest of the Stonewall football team creamed them at championships. I have to admit, their marching band was pretty good, and-"
"You're rambling again John." his wife chided.
"Why do you ask?" he inquired, chosing to ignore her previous comment.
"The girl out there says a man named 'Andrew' is in there, dead." his wife whispered, glancing anxiously out the window. "What are we supposed to do? She could be an axe-murderer for all we know!"
"Margaret, shut your mouth! There is no way in hell that sickly, thin girl could ever be an axe-murder." John snapped. "She's so frail I doubt she could lift the thing! And another point: how the heck would she even pick up that damn axe - look at her hands! Can you give me an explination?!" He took a deep breath, releasing all his anger. "Now we are going to take her home, and let her stay until we can contact... whomever she lives with, alright?" Margaret chose not to answer, but instead diverted her eyes outside, away from Talise. John sat patiently, waiting for Talise to climb inside the car. Finally she did, cautiously sliding into the seat.
"Close the door sweetie." Margaret requested. Talise looked helplessly at it, attempting to grasp onto something that would close the door. John saw this in the mirror, and reached back to close the door for Talise. He also helped Talise buckle herself in, and drove off into the darkness. As to where, Talise had no clue.
A/N: So, the first chapter is done. Whoot! Hope you enjoy reading it, and hopefully the next chapter will be out soon.
On a side note, happy Valentine's Day everyone!
Your addicted-to-Girl-Scout-cookies marimba player,
The Sound of Drums