Warning: Disturbing story coming up.

Also, the chapter drags a little bit at the end, but I couldn't edit.


Disclaimer: Edward Scissorhands is NOT mine. If he were, he'd have real hands at the end of the movie.

"Well it all started when I was little."

I took another deep breath, pushing the tears back.

"When I was little, my dad was a priest at our local church. He was well respected in the community. Everyone loved him. He was calm and collected in the face of a challenge, no matter how big."

Or so I thought.

"What about your mom?" Edward asked.

"My mom was the church organist, who stood by my dad no matter what. And like my dad, the community also respected her.

"We lived in a brick, ivy-covered house right next to the church."

"Did you have any siblings?"

"I had a little sister. Neither one of our parents ever laid an abusive hand on either of us."

"Abusive?" He looked really confused. More than I'd seen before. I racked my brain to try and find the right words. There were a bunch of different definitions as to what it was. But in this case, I thought it'd be better to describe what happened to me.

"Abuse means cruel treatment. Like people hitting someone or something. But it can also mean neglect or exposing something that's dangerous to a person or animal."

His face told me he understood, but I sensed another question behind his nod. "Why would a parent do that?"

I smiled with no hint of humor in my eyes. "Some people in this world are just mean. And no matter what you could do, it's not going to stop them."

"What happened then?"

"Well," I paused for another minute before continuing; "When I was eight, and Gracie was almost six Dad took us to the park after his service. Near the place we usually played there were a bunch of bushes surrounding the area. That day, we brought a ball and we accidently kicked it into the bushes. When I dug through the leaves I saw what looked like an arm. I grabbed it and tried to pull it out, but I saw then that it was a corpse. I freaked out and called my dad over. He immediately told me to drop it and run back to Gracie while he called the police.

"They retrieved the body and conducted an investigation. But because I touched the body, my DNA got onto it and since my DNA is identical to his, the police arrested my father." I tried as hard as I could not to choke on my words. "He was later released, but the damage had been done. Everyone had become deathly afraid of him. He was banned from the church, and he could never get a second job."

"What about your mother?" He asked.

"She lost a little of the respect because she stayed with my dad, but she was able to find work in one of the hair salons." I took what was probably my fiftieth breath before I continued. "Anyway, my dad got really depressed over the whole ordeal. To drown out all that pain he started going to the bar." The tears started to rain down hard. "Edward, he got really violent when he was drunk. He would come home late and start beating us."

"What do you mean by 'us'?"

"All of us." I sobbed. "In the beginning, Mom would be waiting for him before going to sleep. He would knock her unconscious and than barge into Gracie and I's room and whip us with his belt or strike us with a toy he could find." I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face into them. I couldn't look at him; it hurt too much to speak. I felt like I was going to throw up.

He didn't respond and in my peripheral vision, I saw that he didn't move a muscle, not even a twitch of his blades.

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I suddenly felt all the stings, burns, bruises, and broken bones all at once. I could hear my dad's belted screams. I could hear him calling us pointless, worthless, and pathetic excuses for living beings." I don't know how long I sat there letting what I'd tried so hard to keep bottled for years wash over me, but as I thought of the man sitting next to me, I somehow was able to calm down, but only slightly.

I sighed.

"Where are they now?" He asked worriedly.

I looked at him with eyes that held more sorrow than he ever could. I looked at the grass and continued. "One night, he didn't come home when he usually did. That worried everyone. But when we heard the slurring profanities outside the door. Mom rushed us up the stairs and hid us in different places in our room. Gracie was in the closet and I was under the bed. Mom rushed out the door to find Dad at the top of the stairs. Mom barricaded herself in between him and us. I could see that he was holding a beer bottle and a pair of kitchen scissors."

"Scissors?" He asked sadly, moving away from me.

I looked into his eyes and then placed my palm over his knuckles. "I'm not afraid of you. You never gave me a reason to be. So please don't move away from me." I pleaded. I sounded so desperate too, but I just didn't care anymore. "Anyway, Mom was thrown onto the floor and before she could let out a good cry, he started stabbing her. I don't even remember how many times he did, but it was a lot."

He merely nodded.

"When she stopped moving, he got up and started searching for us. When he was about to open the closet, I climbed out from under the bed and ran to the phone that was in the hallway.

"He saw me because there was a mirror attached to the closet door. As I picked up the phone, he bashed the beer bottle on my knee, shattering the bones there. I fell to the floor and dropped the phone. He kicked it away before grabbing my hair and holding the scissors over my throat."

"Were you gonna die?" He asked.

"I thought I was."

"Then what happened?"

I couldn't hold in the fresh sobs that escaped my throat, making it impossible for me to speak.

"If you can't say, we can stop." Edward offered.

"No." I took some deep breaths and held some of them to try to control the tears. "I need to get this out."

He was silent, but I could tell he was worried beyond belief.

"When Dad got abusive, I hid away a knife in my room for protection, the only one who knew about it was Gracie. I heard footsteps run from the room and something jam into my father's back.

"He raised the scissors away from my throat and dropped me. By then, I saw Gracie run down the stairs. After belting out some more profanities, he chased after her."

"Did you follow?"

"My knee was shattered. I could stand up on my own."

"Sorry I forgot."

"It's okay, people forget. It happens."

"But, then what did you do?"

"The phone was only a few feet away from me. Despite the physical pain, I was able to drag myself to the phone and call for help. I told them that my mom had been stabbed to death, my leg was broken, but before I could them anything else, my sister let out an ear-splitting scream. One that even the operator could hear, but I passed out after that due to loss of blood. A few hours later I woke up in a hospital bed."

"Your sister and mother never woke up again?"

I couldn't help it. Through the sobs, I let out a soft smirk and nodded, but that only lasted for a total of three seconds before a new wave of tears hit me. I felt nauseous, dizzy, and like the weight of the world was pushed down on my shoulders. It all hurt so much, that I lost all control of my muscles and buried my face in Edward's shoulder. "They're gone and Dad's in prison."

He tensed up a little bit, but he didn't move away. In fact, I felt him move one of his arms and encase me in a one-armed hug. "Thank you."

I looked up at him questioningly.

"For telling me." He elaborated.

I only managed a small nod.

"What can I do? To help?"

I smiled and locked my arms around him. "Just don't leave." Okay, that was a little strange considering it was his house, but at the moment I didn't care. I felt safe, happy, and all the head-splitting guilt evaporated when I'm with him. I could breathe and laugh, something no one else could make me do.

He simply nodded as I admitted to myself what I was too scared and confused to before:

I was in love with Edward.

Don't you dare say I didn't warn you.

One more thing: I'm starting college in less than a month, so I don't think I can finish the story, that doesn't mean I'm going to abandon it, I just won't be able to write very often.