I don't own anything except my little fuzzy speck of lint. It came from the magical deliverer of lint, the dryer.
Edward may be a bit OOC because I've seen the movie, like, once. But after reading some others I have seen that, like JtHM, he is kinda hard to do, being rather mentally weird. Yeah.
Also, although he doesn't say much, I think he must think a lot. His morals are kinda skewed, I guess, but he's still pretty smart. I'm going to write him this way. No likey no readie.
Anyway on to the fic.

The town stretches out below me. It is no longer painted such bright colors. I remember that it was once. I think that was a long time ago. Long ago, the time Edward went to the Town.
I wonder, have they forgotten me? Have they forgotten the circus freak who came from the hill? I do not know. But people do not come here anymore. Not since the first woman.
I have forgotten her name. I do not remember much about them. I think it has been a long time since I was down there. I can think of close to nothing about it.
Just the strong points.
I remember Jim, the boy who I killed. He has long been taken away. I do not think they miss him.
I remember the woman who took off her clothes. I understand a bit more now. She makes me sick.
I remember Kim, most of all. Kim, dancing in the snow. I remember Kim most of all. I miss her. No one else, but I miss her. I used to wait by the gate for hours, when I was younger, to see if today, today would be the day she returned. She never did. And I learned to live with it. Mostly.
I understand now, the thoughts of the people. I do not forgive them, in their rush to hate and fear, but I do understand them. They were afraid of me because I could hurt them. I could do so easily. I never would, I am not sure if I was even aware, then, of the things I could do. I do not think I understood death until Jim fell out of my window. But the second I heard the glass crunch, I knew what I had done. I did not regret it, nor do I now.
I look at my hands. Not hands. Blades. A gift, or a burden. I do not know which. Someday I may know, but now… I look back down at the town. The town that is now gray, dull. I see the house that Kim lives in, but it does not look the same. I see people come and go now and again, but I cannot see who it is. I am too far away. How I long to go there again. If only for a moment. To see her. To ask her why she did not come. Why she left me here, alone.
Why she left… But what is keeping me here?
They have forgotten. The more I think about it the more certain I am. They do not know me. They will not fear me. Not unless they get a good look. Which they won't in the dark I look at the sky. The sun is already going down. I smile, and walk to the gate. I push it open, wincing at the shriek it makes. Behind me, the animals I make from the bushes, they shake their heads. They say come back. They say nothing good will come of this. I say they are wrong. I slip through the gate.

Kim's house has changed more than I thought. Every corner I turn yields a new surprise. I wonder if I have the right house. But it is the right one. I remember where Kim's room is. It looks up to my house. Sometimes I see the lights on, down there. I think of her, I wonder if she thinks of me.
The room looks mostly the same. The decorations have changed. But I see her, sleeping in her bed. It is the same bed. I remember the water in the mattress. The mattress did not like me. Or, more specifically, my hands.
She looks… different somehow, but more likely is that I do not remember her perfectly. I am not perfect. I never once thought I was.
Swallowing a knot of fear, a horrible sense of deja vous, I opened the lock on the front door. It opened, revealing a room I do not remember. I think it was much different, I do not know, now.
I creep down the hall, eventually coming to Kim's door. I ease it open. Unlike the front door, it is unlocked. The pink water bed is in the same place. Soundlessly I cross the room. Kim is facing toward me, but she is still asleep. I crouch down, and softly shake her shoulder. I don't want her to wake up screaming. That would not end well.
She groans.
"Lemme sleep, grandma. I don wanna go to skool…" She's dreaming. I have heard it is a very disorienting feeling, waking up from one. I wouldn't know. I shake her shoulder a bit harder. Her eyes open for a second. Her… blue… eyes.
They open again, this time very wide. I think she's going to scream, and I look for the fastest way out. But she doesn't.
"You're him," she breathes. "Edward the scissor-man. Holy God." I don't say anything. I don't know who this person is, but she isn't Kim. "Why are you here?" I think for a second, wondering if I should tell her. I don't know if I can trust her. Once upon a time I trusted everyone. I know better now.
"Do you talk?" "Yes…" "Well, why are you here?" "To find Kim…" "Kim? You mean… oh." Her face falls. I feel a knot it the bottom of my stomach. I don't want to know what she's about to say. "Kim… she was my grandmother. She… she died. About a year ago." "I am sorry I woke you up." I turned away. I wanted to go home. Go home, forget any of this happened. This was a horrible idea. There's nothing down here but misery, there hasn't ever been anything else.
"Hey, are you okay?" the girl asks. I look back for one second.
"No. But I will be." I don't stop until I'm back in my own room. Here, I can pretend it was all a dream. Kim is still down there, waiting. She's waiting to come up here again. She has to wait until…until it's safe again. Then.. Then she's coming back up to see me. I haven't been gone that long.
She isn't dead.
She isn't.
She ISN'T!
But I know she is. I know it wasn't a dream. I don't have dreams.