A/N: I've decided to write this chapter in the viewpoint of Edward. Enjoy!

He looked curiously at the stranger that stood in front of him. Edward wondered why this sopping wet teen-ager had climbed the old hill to his castle in the rain, and at night. She should have known better than to go out in the rain, he thought, she could have caught cold! The girl sneezed softly. He twitched his scissors nervously as he watched her eyes wander around the structure of the cieling, to the window at the end of the room, and then back to him.

"So," she said with a friendly smile, "you're probably wondering why I'm here, right"

He nodded his head politely, not to be rude to his unexpected guest.

"Well, I don't want to get into particulars..." she scratched the back of her head, looking a bit embarassed, "so I'll just say that I came up here to prove that...that you exsisted."

Edward tilted his head to the side, confused. Why would any one think that I wasn't real?

"What I mean is that, people down there think that you're just a character in a silly bedtime story made by an old lady to scare children." She continued. "Almost two generations hane passed since you came back up here."

"Oh..." Edward said, slightly offended, "so they think...that I'm dead." He sadly flicked his scissors once more and looked at the floor.

"Sort of..." the girl started, "and at the same time, not really."

"You see, the only reason that story was made up was to frighten the children of the next generation into not coming up here to disturb you."

Edward began to understand what she was trying to explain. He started moving towards his cot in the fireplace. He looked up; the rain had stopped, and the sky had begun to clear, but the floor was still drenched.

She dropped her pack that she had on her back all that time. She then took off her coat, folded it, and placed it on the floor as a cushion so she wouldn't get wet. Edward sat down as well. He observed her silently as she studied the hole in the ceiling with disdain.

"Who built this place...do you know?" she asked suddenly.

"I think..." Edward paused, gathering his thoughts, "my father built it...before i was born."

"Is he..." she stopped. She knew that this question hurt Edward.

He looked at the puddle on the floor between his feet. Edward's watery reflection stared back. "Yes."

A long silence streched between them. The silence was akward. Edward listened to the last droplets of rain fall from the loose pieces of wood down to the puddles on the floor.

...drip...drip...drip...

They both sat there for a long time, listening to the sounds of the dying night. Edward and his visitor, in that wet, moldy room.

"Well..." she said suddenly, trying to spark conversation again.

"Well."

...drip...drip...drip...

She stood up, paced through the puddles a few times, and looked at Edward.

"So," she said, trying to brighten his mood, "are there any other rooms in this house?"

-end chapter-

A/N: I thought I almost lost this chapter (dang compy), but really, I don't think its very well done. What do you think? R/R