So sorry about the wait. I've been swamped with school work and HS Graduation.

I own NOTHING, except the unrecognized characters.

I left the train station about an hour ago, dragging my feet the whole way. Ashley had offered to pick my up, but I wasn't in the mood to talk to her, or anyone else for that matter. I wasn't much of a talker anyway, not since that night. And when I tried, someone would stop me, saying that they don't want to hear it. Everyone at my school thought I was a freak; the girl who dresses in black leather covered in buckles and chains, and carries a knife in her pocket. Since I never saw a therapist to help me, I turned to drawing my own blood-That became my drug.

I dragged my boots across the sidewalk. I mostly kept my eyes down at them, only looking up a few times to make sure I was going the right way. All around me were sickly colored pastel houses, all looking the same from every angle. I was about ready to vomit when I reached the door to Ashley's house.

"Trina." She squeaked from the couch. Running up to hug me. I tensed up almost immediately.

"Darcey." I said as nonchalantly as I could.

"Excuse me?" She asked letting go.

"My name is Darcey." Trying to smile.

"Nonsense, your mother calls you Trina, and that's what I'll call you."

Terrific, I've known my new aunt all of a few minutes and I already hate her. Is everyone ignoring the clear difference in my clothes and the fact that I never smile sincerely anymore?

"I wish you'd let me pick you up. I could've let you know I invited some guests over to you."

"Great." I mumbled sarcastically.

"That's the spirit." She said, clearly ignoring the sarcasm. "Follow me."

I dropped my bags in my room without turning the lights on, or looking out my window. I sauntered over to the dining room table without saying a word. Around me was a woman with fiery red hair and a flirty smile. Next to her was plump woman with long brown hair. On the other side of the table were Ashley and another plump woman with poofy, sand-colored hair. Though they seemed to have one thing in common:

"Hey there, Trina." Red Head started in a fake southern drawl. "Do you like the look of our beloved town here? Ashley here told us you walked here from the train station."

"That's quite a walk there Missy." Brown Hair stated.

"I like getting some exercise." I smiled, though it hurt my face.

"But don't your feet hurt Darlin'?" Red Head asked.

"I've been in worse pain."

"Well regardless." Sandy Hair said. "You never answered the question from before Trina."

"It's Darcey." I put a lot of emphasize on the name, hopping to get the point across. "And I always prefer walking. It gives me time to think." I thought a little about the look of the town and how I could barely look at it for a few seconds without getting sick. "To be honest, I couldn't really look at this place without getting sick."

"Well Darlin'," Red Head sounded insulted, "I guess I should've expected that. Considering what you're wearing."

'Finally' I thought. "Ouch. I'm wounded." I said, sounding bored.

"Now Joyce." Sandy hair said. "She must have been looking at the mansion on the hill."

Mansion? What Mansion? I didn't anything, but then again, I pretty much blinded by the puke-colored houses to notice.

"That must be it." Joyce said. "I mean, look how the poor gal is dressed. She looks just like him, minus the hands and the hair of course."

"Okay, what or who are you people talking about?" I yelled, rubbing my temples.

"You didn't tell her?" Sandy Hair asked.

"No Marge, we haven't really talked until today." Ashley said.

Marge? Wow, dye her poofy hair blue, and I could call her Marge Simpson.

"Well what a Purrfect opportunity." Joyce said in a flirty tone-were she and whomever they were talking about involved. Either way, it was kind of gross.

She turned to me. "You see Darlin', a few years ago a young man was brought down from that mansion to live with us."

"He seemed like such a quiet, charming guy a first." Marge said.

"So what was the problem?" I asked.

"Brace yourself Girly." Brown Hair said. "You see this man had…well he had-"

"Oh good gracious Helen, he's dead after all, stop worrying." Ashley said before turning to me. "This man Trina, he had scissors for hands."

"Excuse me, what?"

"It's true. He came down here and terrorized us all." Marge said.

Now I was getting really confused. People don't have scissors for hands, and once more how could he "terrorize" if he was supposedly charming? An image of my dad came to mind, but I pushed it back down before anyone noticed.

"He even raped Poor Joyce." Ashley said.

Joyce made NO attempt to look distressed in any way, shape, or form, it was then that I decided that what they were saying was complete B.S. However, I was curious to find out what "happened" to this guy.

"Well right before Christmas," Helen said. "He went on a rampage through the neighborhood-destroying the topiaries he had made before he went crazy. The next thing we know we come outside and he's attacking some poor innocent child."

"Brutal." I said, trying to sound like I actually believed in this crap. "What happened next?"

"They police chased him up to that mansion, and one of our youths tried to kill him. The scissor-handed man killed him first. HE died by the roof caving in on him."

"Jeez." I muttered.

"Indeed." Marge said. "Well, on subject. Trina-"

"Darcey."

"Whatever. Anyway, Ashley told us that you're adopted."

"Well, well, well. How did that happen?" Joyce asked.

That struck a chord, but I kept my face composed. "That's kind of personal." I said.

"Well you know Missy. Talking about it can help." Helen pushed.

I groaned, completely flabbergasted at how desperate these women were for good gossip. Well they're out of luck here. "I have a question for all of you." I paused and they all nodded their heads, gesturing me to continue. "Does all the excitement in this town come from mindless gossip? If I tell you what really happened, there's a good chance that you're going to twist the story into the many possible ways you see fit." They were speechless, all of them staring at me with their eyes bugged out and their mouths agape. I got up. "Well I'm officially tired and heading off to bed. Have fun saying whatever it is you want to give me bad reputation in this town." As I turned to walk away, I got another idea. "Actually, I have a challenge for you all. Try saying something nice about me. Say that I was only speaking my mind, and that you appreciate that even though the truth is hard to hear. That is, if you have the guts to accept that."

I left the room before they could respond. "Wow." I thought. "That's the most I've said in one sitting in a long time. What a relief." I took my iPod out of my pocket and cranked the music so I couldn't here what they were saying. Ashley came in about an hour or so later. I only knew because the lights in the hallway interrupted the darkness. "Are they gone?" I asked.

"Yes." She sounded angry. "Why would you be so rude to the guests? They were just trying to be nice." I didn't answer, and that only made her angrier. "ANSWER ME!"

"Are you going to hit me if I don't?"

That shocked her, but it didn't surprise me. When my teachers would get mad at me, I would ask them the same question.

"N-no." She stuttered.

"I can always tell who a person really is when I either look in to their eyes or listen to the tone of their voice, and those women are nothing but snobby gossipers."

"Well regardless, try to be nicer next time. That's an order."

My hands tightened into fists and tears rained down my face as I threw myself off the bed. "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER, OR MY PERVERTED DAD! AND IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE CALLING YOURSELF MY AUNT YOU'LL SPEAK A WORD OF THIS TO ANYONE." And with that, I hightailed it out of the door, slamming it shut. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, not knowing where they were taking me-not caring in the least. As I passed each house, all of their lights were switched off. After a while, I realized I was running up a hill, or maybe I should call it a mountain when I saw how high up it was, now that I think about it, there was a broken gate at the bottom of it. Man I was pissed, and I still was at the moment. That didn't make me want to go back. My legs continued to carry me up to another gate, this one intact, but covered in ivy vines on the farther side. I gave it a slight push and just opened it far enough to fit through it. Nothing could've prepared me for the sight that lay beyond:

Though I could only see under the cover of the full moon, the light made everything much more ethereal, like how the snow covers up the deceased earth in the winter. All around me were fields of green topiaries sculpted into all sorts of animals. There was a squirrel, a reindeer, and even a sea serpent. The most magnificent however, was the opened hand in the middle of the garden. Around the sculptures were all sorts of colorful flowers. It was like leaving the world of reality, and walking into Wonderland or something. The garden stood in front of a grey, dilapidated castle. Though it was damaged, it still gave this place an enchanted feel to it. Okay, scratch Wonderland and put Fairytale land.

I looked up to one of the windows to see that it was broken. And despite everything only being lit by the dim light of the moon, I could see a shadow moving in the room. Despite the fear that crawled through my skin, I didn't want to go back. I walked up to the door and tried to push it open, and like the gate, I was only able to get it open far enough to fit through it. Note to self; exercise more. I pushed it closed and slid to the floor, still panting, still sweating from the run. I stayed there for a while to regain my energy and when I did, I forced myself up. I stumbled around the dark corridor to see a bunch of old machines in front of me. Upon further inspection, I could see that it was a giant cookie-making machine. "Wow, whom ever made that must've been a really smart man."

It was then that I heard a sound behind me. It sounded like metal scraping against metal, almost like…scissors. I turned around to see the shadow again as I looked up. I dragged myself to the stairs and held onto the cold banister as I walked up each step. I contemplated calling out to the shadow, whatever or whoever it was, but decided against it thinking it was more scared of me than I was of it. I followed it all the way up to the attic; it seemed empty, and the snipping silenced, but I found no harm in looking around. The roof had a gigantic hole in it and as I turned around I could see a shredded bedpost sitting in the fireplace surrounded by a ton of newspaper and book clippings. Looking beyond the bed, I saw a bunch of pictures of random people. The one that stood out the most was a newspaper article that read, "Boy Born Without Eyes, Reads With Hands". Just then I heard the snipping again and saw the gleam of metal in the moonlight as a figure moved forward.

"Kim?" It muttered.

"Um, no." I whispered.

It started backing away.

"You don't have to hide, you know. I can't hurt anything." Well not physically anyway. I'm sure did an amount of emotional damage back at Ashley's, but I could care less about that.

It started walking towards me again.

"You won't?" A young boy asked. Though I said I wouldn't harm him, I could still hear fear in his voice, and something else too-it sounded like sadness.

As he appeared in the light, I lost my voice. He was a young man, maybe late teens or twenties, covered in black leather from the neck down adorned with tons of buckles. Well more than I had anyway. His raven black hair was so unkempt and tangled it looked like it hadn't been brushed in years. His complexion was snow-white pale, his face covered in scars with eyes so deep and mysterious that I thought I could feel my heart melting. But that's not what shocked me the most. What held my attention more than any other feature on the man were his hands. What I previously thought were scissors he was holding in his hands, turned out to actually be his hands. I knew I should've been scared, because those gossipy women weren't lying about that particular detail. But as I looked at his face again, I saw all that fear and sadness that I'd heard in his voice just moments before. Feeling anything remotely close to fear wasn't an option. Though, it made me wonder why he was like that.

It took some time for me to realize that I had yet to respond to his question, and that I were making him nervous.

"No." I said. When he didn't respond, I continued. "So do you live up here alone?"

"Yes."

"Where are your folks?"

He looked at me confusingly.

"Your mom and dad?" I clarified.

"He didn't wake up." He muttered, looking like he was about to cry, and I really didn't want that.

"How long have you been up here?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever been down there?" I pointed to the window to show him what I meant.

"Yes." He responded quickly.

"Did you like it?"

"For a time." He didn't say anything more. I took that as my queue to change the subject.

"That makes one of us, but you don't have to say what happened." I could tell he was relieved. "Did you make all of those sculptures out there?" I asked, referring to the animal-like shapes in the garden.

He simply nodded.

"They're beautiful."

"Thank you."

Before I could respond, my iPhone vibrated in my pocket. The action seemed to scare the young man because he jumped back a few steps.

"Don't be scared, that was just my phone. I promise I'll be right back."

"Don't go." He pleaded.

"I'll just be in the next room. Trust me, you don't want to hear this. It could get ugly. I promise, I'll be right back."

He didn't seem convinced, but despite that he nodded, and I ran into the hallway to answer the phone.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Ashley yelled frantically.

"Wow, I didn't know you cared." I said sarcastically.

I could hear other voices in the background-she had told the others. And clearly, she ignored the sarcasm in my voice.

"Where are you?" She asked again.

"Doesn't matter. You told the others, and I distinctly remember telling you that if you told anyone, you were no longer considered my aunt."

"You meant that?"

"What are you, a child?" I said. "It's a lot better than being surrounded by a bunch of gossiping snobs hounding me for details about my life and then later, twisting said details in however they see fit, which I know for a fact would happen if they did. Tell them to shove that in their pipe and smoke it. If you have the balls to do so. If Nikki calls, tell her I ran away, but am totally safe. Good bye." I hung up the phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

I entered the attic again to see the young man looking at me questioningly. "Sorry about that." I started. "I told you it could get ugly, and boy did it ever. But no one knows where I am so I doubt anyone will come here, which reminds me, I never got your name."

"Edward." He said quickly.

"I'm-" I paused. I looked into his eyes again-he looked so childish, so innocent, and so scared that I just couldn't lie to him. "Trina Smith."

He nodded and for the briefest moment, I saw the ghost of a smile touch his lips. "Stay here tonight?" He asked. To any other boy I would've freaked out, but looked and sounded so genuine that I knew he wouldn't hurt me. And definitely didn't want to go back.

"I'd love to." I said smiling, and meaning it for the first time in years.

His smile grew. "Follow me." He said, walking out the room. I didn't realize before, but his walk sort of reminded me of Charlie Chaplin a little. I used to watch those old silent films with my dad and sister before…that night. It was our bonding thing. I followed Edward to a thick engraved door on the second floor. He stuck one of his blades into the lock and then pushed it open with his shoulder. What was inside took my breath away.

The room had an ever-present gothic feel to it. All of the furniture was covered in elegant blood red draping. The thick fabrics that hung over the queen-sized bed shielded the windows. The walls were painted a mahogany color, matching the woods of the floor, the giant bookshelf, and the couch placed across from the bed. It took all of my power not to squeal, because I'd always dreamed of having a room like this. I guess I was really obsessed with those fairytales.

"Wow, I love it. Thank you."

"Your welcome." He said a bit awkwardly.

I yawned then damn. I thought. Not now.

"You tired?"

"A little." I slurred.

"Then you should sleep."

I nodded, climbing into the bed, which was extremely comfortable.

"Good night." He said turning to leave.

"Edward?"

He turned to face me.

"Thank you."

He smiled once more and nodded, leaving the room. He left the door open; my guess was because he couldn't close it with his scissor hands. Was I scared of those? I should be, due to past experience, but I wasn't. And despite his appearance, I could tell he was kind and gentle on the inside, a pure heart of gold.

This is going to be one great summer. I thought as I laid my head on the pillow and fell asleep instantly.

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