Chapter 4
I am very sorry for not updating for a very long time.
"No one is alone." –Stephan Sondheim
"Edward." I repeat stupidly.
"Edward." He repeated as if I didn't hear it the first time.
I smile, but his head still hung low. The poor guy, he looked so sad.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Edward." I held out my hand to shake hands with him. (The friendly thing to do)
But he stepped back.
"Is something wrong?" I ask.
I didn't need him to answer. I saw his hands. They looked like scissors. Each "finger" was a set of scissors. Shimmering and sparkling in the light. Looking shiny and smooth.
He backed away from me, as if asking me silently to go.
"Should I go?" I ask. After all this was Edward's house, I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. I gather some of my things together.
"No…no don't go…Please." He said miserably.
The way he said "please" and looked up at me. I swear my heart melted. He looked as if any minute I was going to hurt him. He looked so gloomy. But why?
"So, have you always lived here?" I asked. I sat down by him above the roof, the light was streaming in and the sun reflected on his scissorhands. I saw his entire face then. His face was scarred, probably from his hands. His black hair was everywhere, some may think it is silly, but to me it suited him perfectly. His dark eyes shown mystery and silence.
"Yes." He replied.
"Do you have a family?" I ask. This guy had no idea how to carry on a conversation. But who could blame him? He doesn't look like he keeps in contact with the outside world. I wish I could join him, and not face reality. It sounded great.
"No."
"Well, what do you know about me?" I ask.
"A lot." He replied.
"Oh."
"You hate living here, but won't admit to yourself you like it as well. You are really a child at heart. You don't want to go out and face the world. You feel stuck, unaware of things that happen before your very eyes. You wish to escape from reality. You want to have a feeling of wonder, to see the beauty of the world, see the beauty never shown to you. You would run away if it wasn't for your father. He couldn't survive without you. You wish to explore the world, but people keep you back from accomplish your dreams. You want to be able to be yourself, but you are afraid of what people will think of you. You are afraid of offending others, but you stand up for what is right. You are constantly fighting yourself, and the result is that you can't win… You also enjoy opera."
He added the last part, to make me smile. I just know it. But it was true.
I have never had someone really describe me so deeply and correct as Edward had just did. It was both comforting and disturbing at the same time. Tears formed as I listened to him, speak of me as if he's been part of my mind.
Somehow, somewhere tears came into my eyes. And I knew, I was tired of fighting. I began to cry. I haven't cried since mom died.
Edward shifted on the wooden floor and put his arm around me carefully not to cut me. I wrap my arms around him and cry.
He then whispered to me
"Don't worry; everything's going to be okay now. Nothing's going to harm you, not while I'm around."
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