The Scarred Boy

Edward Scissorhands One-Shot

Everyday, there are people who are getting picked on for nonsense. Differerent hair, unnatural physical feature, or just because they weren't the coolest cucumber in the crate. All of these reasons are just pointless. When I was just a kid, I would get picked on for my name, the way I acted, and even for playing with the "odd" ones. It was just...stupid now that I think about it. Oh! I'm Serraphine Waddle by the way. I'm sixteen years old and leaving my deadbeat dad that has a girlfriend way younger than him. I throw my suitcase in the back of mom's car. "Serraphine! You can't leave me!" Dad begged. The only reason mom sticked around with my dad was for his money. Dad was, and possibly still is, the biggest drunk in my old hometown. I grew up eating breakfast with dad while he drank whiskey. Mom knew he had a drinking problem, and she knew that one day it would spiral out of control. And it did...when he slapped me. I brought my hand up to my cheek to feel the displacement of my cheekbone. "Please don't touch me." I pushed him away softly and mom came by my side. We took everything. Even your stache of cash in your closet." Dad owned his own business which was producing his own brand of wait...don't be surprised...whiskey. My dad had his own brand of whiskey which had the stupidest logo ever. It was of a duck and the words that would come on every commercial for it was:

"Stop by your five and dime and get Waddle's Flopper. When you drink it you'll waddle."

Must have heard it fifty million times in my sleep. Anyways back to my life. Mom and I got in the car and just drove. I was seventeen at the time and knew how to drive. In matter of fact I think I had just gotten my driver's license the day I turned seventeen. I-

"Sweetie, this isn't your fault." Mom said in a sweet caring voice. It kinda warmed me up to hear her talk this way and not yelling for once. I nodded. "I know, mama. I just...I want to go to a better school anyways. You know...get away from the buttholes." She chuckled and stroked my brown hair as I drived. "We can even get your hairstyle that you wanted. You know, the one daddy didn't want you to have." God, did it piss me off when she called him daddy. Not even dad hitting me pissed me off more than that. "Really?" I said in a happy tone. Back home, I really wanted half purple and half black hair. Purple was my favorite color and black was just badass by itself. Am I wrong? "Yeah. I think we can even take you to a professional and get it done so it's permanent." I smiled so big my cheeks were hurting. "Sounds great mom."

The suburb we moved to was really really...cheerful. Like...scary cheerful. You know, the fake people you meet at school who says they're one person but in reality they're another? Like that but...much more cheerful. When we parked the car, I couldn't help but notice that there was this massive, dark castle at the very end of the street. It was just weird how everything but that had color and life. It was actually kinda weird if you ask me. I helped mom unload and went to my new bedroom. There was a window in the dead middle of the north wall and it gave the perfect view of the castle. I walked up to it and opened it. Why did this castle give me such an eerie feeling? I ignored it and began to unpack my clothes in the small set of dressers.

"You're such a fatass!"

"No one likes an ugly bitch!"

"Why don't you just drop off the face of the earth and die?!"

Yup I've heard it all. I thought that things would change when I moved here but they've gotten much worse. I sat in the back of each classroom and drew in my textbook. I loved to draw. It completely relaxed me. It took me out of the world that was just so cruel to me sometimes. I ended up drawing a girl, a girl I wish I could be. She had long hair, a pretty face, and a neck any guy could press their lips to. But...I will never be that person. I will always, and forever be...me.

A couple of months passed and it was Halloween. I was so excited because Halloween was my absolute favorite holiday! I was going to dress like a punk rockstar, and my half purple half black hair fit it perfectly with the purple skirt and black tank top. I had met two friends that I think are amazing. Mandi and Taylor. They are, in matter of fact, just like me. They make me feel safe and actually cared about. It was a game of truth or dare. I had asked Taylor if it was true that she had a crush on Cade, the night football player and she said yes. There were so many truths until finally Mandi gave me a dare: