Edward sat with his knees to his chest, thinking about what he had done.
Why had he done it? What had he become? The boy was dead; no more harm could have possibly been done. But yet, there was that part of him that knew it was wrong. That part of him that told him not to do it. That part of him that told him his father would have been very disappointed.
"I have to find someone. I have to do something," he finally decided.
Edward pulled himself together, and waited until the dead of night to find Kim and confess to his wrongdoing.
By the light of the moon, Edward made his way through the garden, down the path, and out of the opening where those rusty gates once stood. He was totally aware of his surroundings. If any nosey neighbors were to wake up, he was ready to flee back to the dusty, old mansion he called home.
Edward was as quiet as a mouse as he crept through the culdesac, in search of the girl that showed him what the true meaning of 'love' is. "At last," he thought as he arrived at the door. Knocking would surely wake them, and would be of no use, seeing that he could just pick the lock with his scissorhands. He made his way through the house, keeping an eye out for the room with the stuffed toys placed so precisely on the bed of water, when he suddenly felt a human hand on his shoulder.