Jordin looked around her newly-decorated room with satisfaction. The walls and ceiling were now a nice shade of black, and the light in the middle of the ceiling was a disco ball. She had achieved this by buying a cheap translucent plastic disco ball and fitting it over the light bulb. Her bed was up against the wall and had a dark purple bedspread. She had left the carpet as it was, figuring that it was too much work getting a new one. There were still boxes on the floor, but Jordin figured she'd unpack them another time.
There was a tap at the door and Nadia came in. Her eyes widened.
“Honey, don't you think it's a bit... dark?” she asked a little nervously. She didn't want her daughter to get angry at her, but the room just reeked of depression. Although she had to admit it was rather stylish.
Jordin shrugged. “Just the way I like it,” she replied, throwing herself on the bed. Nadia nodded and left.
Jordin smiled. All this had taken three days, and she had done it all herself. She was quite proud of herself.
She closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. She knew why mom had moved them here; it was to get away from the memory of her grandmother. But Jordin had another reason for leaving: to try to start a new life. She had always been something of a loner, something her mom never realised.
Her mother didn't know about a lot of things, especially the fact that she never had any friends. She had never wondered why Jordin didn't have people over, and Jordin wasn't about to inform her of her position. And then there was Leon... but she didn't want to think about him. However awful the new neighbourhood looked, it had to be better than where she came from.
Jordin got up and shook her head. She didn't want to think about her grandmother or her position as social outcast at that stupid school she had gone to. She didn't want to think about anything.
Jordin sat at her dressing table and started into the mirror. Her hair was long and black and hung limply around her shoulders, her big brown eyes rimmed with black eyeliner and her lips slightly tinged with her favourite black lipstick. She knew that she was depressed- why else would she choose this as her look?- and suicide had briefly crossed her mind a few times. But she always pushed it away. Life somehow wasn't hard enough or sad enough yet. And then there was her mom to think about...
Jordin got up and went to the window, pushing her new purple curtains out of the way. Her window faced a steep hill, and at the top was a castle. All previous thoughts fled her mind. The castle looked dark and foreboding, and appealed to her Gothic nature. Wait, was was that? She peered closer. I need a closer look.
* * * * *
He had been looking down at the street all morning, feeling a little bored. Was nobody out today?
A movement from the pink house caught his attention, and he looked down to see the girl he had watched earlier looking out her window. She was staring at the house. He took a sharp intake of breath. Would she see him?
She stared for a few more minutes, and then left the window. He was about to sigh with relief when she returned. She held something up to her eyes and there was a flash of light that almost blinded him. He stumbled back from the window and pressed himself to the wall. When he had the courage to look again, the curtain was closed.

* * * * *
Jordin put down her binoculars and closed the curtain. For a moment there she thought she had seen a face, but that was impossible. From what she had seen, the castle was run-down and looked unlivable. Nobody could live there. Could they?
She shook her head and headed out to the kitchen, where her mother was peeling potatoes. Going to the fridge, she poured herself some milk and took two cookies from the jar on the bench.
Nadia looked up as her daughter sat across from her and watched her peel potatoes. Jordin's stare was vacant and Nadia knew her mind was somewhere else.
Jordin thought about that castle. It might be ready to fall down, but there was something about it that made her want to keep looking. It also might be the best place to get some alone time.
She stood abruptly and emptied her glass, then started to make her way out of the kitchen.
“Honey?”
Jordin stopped and looked at her mother. Nadia always knew when her daughter was going out.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“For a walk.”
Nadia sighed. It didn't look like she would get any details.

He looked out the window when he heard the door bang shut. The girl with the black hair was out on the street and looked like she was trying to decide which way to go. She looked down the street at all the pastel houses then looked at his hill. For a moment she seemed hesitant, and then she started to walk over.
He watched her, still not realising where she was going. Then he heard the distant sound of a screeching gate.
She's coming here!
He still didn't panic. She would come to the front gate and find she can't open it, and then she'd go home. He hoped.
* * * * *
Jordin looked up at the hill she had to climb and wiped the rust off her hands. This would take a while. She started walking, constantly telling herself that she only had a metre to go. This seemed to work, and she soon found herself at another gate.
This gate was tall and covered with ivy. She pushed it but it didn't budge, so she threw all her weight onto it. It moved a little. She gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might, and it slowly began to open.
She slipped between the space she made, pulled her bag out and stumbled into the garden. And gasped.
The garden was beautiful! The grass was green and the trees and bushes had been cut into different shapes. There was a squirrel, a sea monster, a deer. And in the middle, looking like it had the place of honour, was a hand. It was surrounded by colourful flowers.
Jordin stopped gaping at everything and frowned. In order to keep all this neat, someone would have to visit every day. Was there a grounds-keeper? Well, whoever it was, they were good!
She looked at the castle and found that it was just a large house, perhaps even a mansion. Whoever used to live here would have been pretty wealthy.
Looking at it, Jordin got a sudden urge to explore. She opened the door and went inside, and the door closed behind her.
She was now in darkness.

* * * * *
He couldn't believe it. She had managed to open the gate and come into his garden! He watched her through another window, pulling back as she ran her eyes over the house.
Will she come in? he thought. Oh, please no. Stay in the garden, or even better, just leave.
He jumped when she opened the door, and quickly ran back to the attic. There was a knot in his stomach, and he had no idea what to do. His heart started beating quickly out of fear.
She's in the house!
* * * * *
She stood there as her eyes adjusted to the dark. There were some funny-looking machines to her right, and almost in front of her was a staircase. She started to climb.
* * * * *
He heard her coming up the stairs, and started to panic. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he squeezed himself into the darkest corner. Now all he could do was wait and pray that she didn't find him.
* * * * *
Jordin entered the attic and gasped. There was a giant hole in the roof that let all the sun in, and she looked out to see how good the view was. She could see some mountains in the distance, and was that the sea? She shook her head and turned around. There was a fireplace in the wall with what looked like a bed in it. She went closer and saw that behind the bed was a board with newspaper clippings on it. One of them read: 'Boy born without eyes, reads with hands'. Strange, she thought.
She looked around the room and found it to be bare. It doesn't look like anyone lives here. Maybe this could be my new haunt. I could come up here if I want to be alone.
She sat on the bed and pulled her diary and lucky pen from her bag. Then she started to write.
* * * * *
He peered out and saw only her legs. She was sitting on his bed! What is she doing here? she wondered. He was started to get a cramp, and shifted a little, making a slight noise. She immediately stood up, and he almost died of fright. Is she going to find me?
* * * * *
Jordin finished writing and stood up, reading previous diary entries. When she had finished, she put the book in her bag and took out her phone to check her messages.
* * * * *
He watched her fumble with the the little contraption, wondering what engrossed her. He moved to get a better look at her.
Her hair was long and black, her eyes seemed to be outlined and her lips were a peculiar colour. She was dressed completely in black. She wore black jeans, a black T-shirt and a black leather jacket with many zippers. She wore black shoes that looked two sizes too big and were barely laced up. Studying her eyes, he could see that she was sad. More than that, her whole being radiated sadness, and he wondered what had upset her so much.
Just then she mumbled something and straightened up, and a moment later headed for the stairs. She was finally leaving, but he had a feeling she'd be back.

Nadia knocked on the door and waited for Jordin to get out of the car. They were having lunch at a local's house that day.
The door opened to reveal a woman who looked like she was in her mid-sixties. Her eyes were youthful, but the rest of her was wrinkly.
“Hello,” she said, “You must be Nadia. I'm Kimberly Rosewood, but you can call me Kim.”
They went inside and had lunch, and Nadia and Kim started talking about gardening. That reminded Jordin of the garden sculptures from the mansion.
She waited until there was a lull in the conversation.
“Kim, do you know if anyone lives in the house on the hill?” she asked.
Kim's face took on a peculiar expression. “I don't know,” she managed to choke out.
Jordin looked at her in surprise, but decided to try something different. A ghost story was always welcome. “Well, it looks pretty old. Is there a story behind it?”
Kim was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft.
“There was once an inventor who lived there. He made many things, and one day decided to turn one of his robots into a living, breathing man. He worked for a long time to build this man. Soon he was almost finished. The man could walk, talk, and the inventor educated him, too. But he died before the man was finished, and left him with scissors for hands.
Years later, a woman entered the house, found him, took pity on him and brought him down here to live with her family. The neighbours accepted him pretty quickly, and he fell in love with the woman's daughter. And slowly, she started to fall in love with him.” Here her voice faltered. She cleared her throat and spoke again.
“Soon, though, there was trouble. It started when the girl's boyfriend got him to break into his parents’ house. They tripped an alarm and the police arrived. The girl and her boyfriend got away but the man was arrested. Then there were lots of other things, like saving the girl's brother from being run over by a van, but everyone thought he was trying to attack him. They all chased him back up the hill, but the girl went ahead of them and got to him first. Then her boyfriend appeared and there was a big fight. The man stabbed the boyfriend and pushed him out the window. The girl knew that the people wouldn't stop looking for him until they had proof that he was dead, so she took something that looked like his scissors and showed them. They believed that the man was dead and went away, and the girl never returned to the mansion, because it would have been suspicious. She never saw him again.”
Jordin was silent, taking it all in, and Nadia watched with an amused look on her face. Jordin had always been a sucker for fairytales, no matter what she said.
Kim suddenly looked at Nadia. “You don't believe me, do you?” It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course not!” Nadia said surprised, “I know it's just a story.”
Jordin looked at Kim and shrugged, “I've been up there already.”
Kim looked at her with a kind of nervous surprise, while Nadia shook her head.
“So that's where you disappeared to today.”
Jordin nodded, and turned to Kim. “But I didn't find anything strange, except...” she shook her head and laughed. “Oh never mind, it's nothing.”
There was silence and then Nadia spoke. “Well, thank you for lunch, but maybe we should get going. I still have some unpacking to do.”
Kim looked at her watch. “Ok. I have to call the movers, anyway.”
Nadia turned to her. “You're moving?”
“Yes,” she said, and smiled a little. “I'm going to look after my grandchildren, who live at the other side of town… One of them is sick and needs someone to care for her, because her mother and older brother have to work.”
Nadia nodded and got out her bag. “Jordin, you head out to the car.”
Kim stood and headed to the door with Jordin while Nadia hunted for her keys. They got to the front door, and then Kim checked behind her. Nadia was still in the kitchen. She turned to Jordin.
“Jordin, what did you find at the mansion today?”
Jordin looked surprised and a little confused. “Only some beautiful garden sculptures. I remember wondering if there was a groundsman.”
“Thank you.” Kim smiled and her eyes glistened with tears. She hugged Jordin and Nadia came out of the kitchen. “Come on, let's get going. Thanks again, Kim, for the lovely lunch.”

“Jordin, you need a job.”
Jordin rolled over in bed and groaned. It was ten o'clock on Saturday morning, and she was still half asleep. Nadia stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Honey, you either get a job or go to school. I could get in big trouble if the government finds out that you just lie around at home doing nothing.”
“Don't tell them then.”
“Don't be silly, they'd find out eventually. Now, I’ve looked in the paper and circled a few jobs of interest. There's a spot open at some cafe, or you could be a checkout-chick at Woolworths or something. Think about it, darling.”
“Why can't I just inherit a large fortune and pay the government to leave me alone?”
Nadia sighed and went to make scrambled eggs.
As soon as she left, Jordin hauled herself out of bed and sat down at her dressing table. Her hair was tangled, her eyeliner was smudged and her lipstick had disappeared. She looked a mess.
She quickly ran a brush through her hair and rubbed all the make-up off her face. She suspected that she'd be home all day, calling people for interviews. Ugh, work. She didn't want to go, but she guessed that it was better than going to school.
After breakfast (or brunch, since it was so late) she curled up on the couch, looking at the jobs on offer in the newspaper. She decided that she liked the sound of one of them- they were looking for someone who would work at the check-out in the morning. Jordin called them up and was told to meet them later that day.
* * * * *
He watched as the blonde one opened the curtains and tidied up a little. Then the sad girl came in and he watched her as she put her make-up on, packed her bag and left the room.
A second later she seemed to be arguing with the blonde one, who kept shaking her head. Finally she stormed off to the car and got into the passenger seat, while the other started up the car. Then they drove away. He idly wondered where they were going.
He went down to touch up his plants, and that's when he saw it: the pen she used when writing in her book! It was black with a diamond charm hanging from the top, and didn't look right laying in front the gate.
He got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, half fear, half excitement.
She would definitely come back.
* * * * *
She sighed as they drove into the driveway. The interview had gone well, and she would be working at a check-out, from ten to twelve, for $100 a week, five days a week. Not bad.
Nadia went the mailbox and came back with a letter for Jordin. Surprised, Jordin opened it while trying to figure out who would have sent it.
Dear Jordin (the letter read),
I hope you are settling in well and are happy.
I know the reason you moved is to get away from sad or hurtful memories, but I would just like to warn you about the memories you make here. I don't want you to feel unhappy if there is something beyond your control that you want to change- for example, the way people react to something different. If you do not understand what I am telling you, do not worry. If you still visit the mansion on the hill, you will probably find out soon.
I cannot tell you anything more, for you would not believe me. I will only add that if you find the gardener, be good to him.
Sincerely, Kimberly.
Jordin stared at the letter for a while, trying to make sense of it all. Try as she might, she could not make head or tale of it.
If you still visit the mansion on the hill, you will probably find out soon.
Was that encouragement to go the mansion? Or was it warning her away?
She decided to go and find out.
* * * * *
“Mom, I’m going out,” Jordin called to her mother. She had gone through her bag and found that her lucky pen was missing, so now she at least had a reason if anyone asked.
“Are you going to that mansion?” Nadia called back.
“Yes.”
“I don't think you should.”
“I have to; I’ve lost my lucky pen and I think I left it there.”

He watched her leave the house and approach the hill with a growing sense of dread. Before, he was excited, but now he was just scared. He would have to be careful and not let her see him.
Earlier he had, with some difficulty, taken the pen up to the attic and dropped it on the bed. He had no idea why he did that, but there was no time to change it now. She was already at the gate.
* * * * *
She pushed through the gate and entered the garden. Once again, she was taken by surprise, even though she had seen it before. She had a feeling that the giant green hand was symbolic, but she had no idea why.
She entered the house and without hesitation headed up to the attic. She didn't notice the shadow that hurriedly retreated into the dark corner.
She found her pen and put it in her bag. Then she took out the letter.
* * * * *
He watched her from his corner as she read the little piece of paper and looked confused. She got up and started walking around in circles while reading out loud.
“If you do not understand what I am telling you, do not worry. If you still visit the mansion on the hill, you will probably find out soon.”
He stiffened. Find out what?
“I cannot tell you anything more, for you would not believe me. I will only add that if you find the gardener, be good to him. Sincerely, Kimberly.”
He jumped. Kimberly?
He watched her as she stuffed the paper into her pocket and stomped over to the giant hole in the roof.
* * * * *
Jordin was frustrated. She gazed out through the hole in the roof and wondered what on earth the old woman was talking about. She seemed to be talking in riddles, and it was giving Jordin a headache.
She pulled out an i-pod from her bag and switched it on. Lying down on the bed, she flicked it onto a random track and closed her eyes...
And so began her afternoon ritual. She would work for two hours and then go to the mansion for another half hour, listening to music or writing in her diary. It was the perfect place to get away. She never noticed two eyes watching her from the shadows, or heard the faints sounds of metal on metal. She never saw the mysterious gardener who kept the trees and bushes trimmed to perfection, but she didn't care anymore. She was in her own little world.
* * * * *
“Jordin!”
Nadia looked into her daughter's bedroom and then back down the hall. “Jordin, where are you?”
She heard the front down slam. “Mom, I’m home!”
Nadia marched into the living room, where Jordin had just dumped her bag on a lounge and was rummaging through it.
“Where have you been?”
Jordin looked up in surprise. “At work,” she replied a little guiltily. It wasn't exactly a lie. She held out a Mars Bar to her mother. “It was two for a dollar today.”
Nadia shook her head. “Well, I need to tell you something. I’ve won a trip to Europe, and I’ll be gone for about two months. I’ve arranged for your aunt Linda to take care of you...”
Jordin rolled her heavily outlined eyes. “Mom, I don't need a baby-sitter. And Linda isn't my aunt.”
“A baby-sitter, no, but someone to watch you, yes. I couldn't leave you home alone. And Linda is your aunt. You may not be related to her, but she did marry Jack, so that makes her your aunt. Now as I was saying, Linda will watch you, and I’ll call you once a week to see how you're doing.”
“When are you going?”
“Next week.”
“Cool.” With that, Jordin turned on her heel and stalked to her room. Once there, she grabbed her pillow and flopped on the bed. Linda's going to be in this house? she thought. Just what I need.
Linda Brown had been married to Nadia's half-brother Jack, who had died five years ago. For a widow, she seemed to be coping really well. She was awfully bright, awfully gaudy and loved to gossip. She also loved to meddle with people's lives, especially when it came to matchmaking.
Jordin could tell it was going to be a long two months.

“Bye Nadia! Have a good time now! Don't worry about about us, we'll be fine! Bye!”
Jordin winced as Linda shouted goodbye in that high-pitched voice of hers. She didn't know how much more of this she could take, and it hadn't even begun yet.
During the two days that Linda had been staying with them, she had managed to turn the house into a pink and perfume-filled environment. She had covered every room with flowers and lacy doilies. Except Jordin's room, of course. She wasn't allowed in there.
“But it's so dark and uninviting,” she had whined when Jordin refused her generous offer.
Jordin had glared daggers at her. “Yes, and that's the way I want it to stay!”
Now Jordin glared at Linda again as she waved and jumped around like a lunatic. Not that it would have done much good even if she had seen it; Linda seemed to be indifferent to any negative feelings directed at her.
She finally came into the house and faced Jordin with a big smile. “Well, it's just you and me now!”
In Jordin's mind, this translated into Welcome to hell.
There was only one place in the world where she could seek solitude, and the faster she got there, the better.
* * * * *
She sat on the bed with a sigh. Even if it wasn't comfortable, it felt warm and familiar. She had brought a few things from home and set them on the ledge above the fireplace: A picture of father and mother and baby Jordin, taken a week before the accident; a vanilla-scented candle and a box of matches; her locked diary and lucky pen; her i-pod and headphones; a box of bits and pieces.
Jordin lit the candle and sighed again as the sweet scent surrounded her. Stooping down she found herself staring at the board with the newspaper clippings on it. She reached in and pulled it out from behind the bed for a closer look.
Most of the words were faded and unreadable, but the pictures were all plain as day. They were strange things, but she didn’t feel like solving a mystery at the moment.
Looking at her watch, Jordin realised she should be getting home. She blew out the candle and left the board standing by the fireplace, and clattered down the stairs.
* * * * *
He watched her go with the usual feeling of half sorrow, half relief. He breathed in the lingering smell of vanilla and stood up, stretching.
This had been going on for about a month. He had been surprised to find her returning almost every day to this room, and wondered what drew her here. So far she never seen or heard him, and he was careful not to do anything that would betray his presence. He hadn't realised until now that he was lonely- terribly lonely. Her continuous visits comforted him, and he was certain that if she saw him, she would never come back.
* * * * *
Living with Linda was worse than Jordin had thought. For the first three weeks, she had to endure matchmaking strategies and numerous dates with boys she didn't know. Almost all of them were rude, crude and had wandering hands. Jordin rebuffed them all, of course, and it was getting to be unbearable.
Work was terrible, not much better than high school. A certain group of girls had decided to pick on her, and one boy was trying to flirt with her. Jordin's stress grew and grew, until one day it spilled over the top.
After a day of loud-mouthed comments about Goths and silly pranks from the girls, Jordin was getting ready to leave. While unchaining her bike from the rack, a shadow fell across it, and she looked up to see the flirty boy, Jack. She was painfully aware that they were the only ones in the car park, and this fact hadn't escaped him, either.
He tried to kiss her, and after a struggle, she managed to reach into her bag for her pepper spray. But the threat didn't bother him, and Jordin was forced to use it. Jack ran away, howling about his eyes, and she collapsed next to her bike.

Jordin ran. She left her bike chained outside of the shop and ran until her lungs were bursting, and then she ran some more. With every breath she took she let out a sob, and she angrily rubbed the tears out of her eyes. She hadn't cried for a long time, not even when her grandparents died. The wind whipped her hair as she ran into her street, past her house and up the driveway to the old mansion.
* * * * *
He could hear her coming. He had no conception of time, but he was surprised to find her here earlier than usual.
He heard her gasping for breath as she entered the attic, and he barely hid himself in time. She collapsed onto the bed and sobbed, and he felt worried. What had happened to make her so unhappy?
* * * * *
Jordin sat up suddenly, angry at herself, Linda, the girls at work and basically anyone she could think of. There was a feeling, a black, horrible, burning feeling that rose from the bottom of her heart and almost choked her. It was anger, despair, rage and some unidentifiable feeling that made her feel powerful but frightened of herself. When had she ever felt this angry?
Suicide suddenly entered her mind again, and this time she didn't push it away. The whole world would be a better place without her...
Pictures rose in her mind. Bullies, then and now, taunting her about her looks, her shyness, her life. Linda. The many boys she had been forced her to date.
The laughing faces swirled around and around, taunting her, and she felt like she would go insane. That or her head would burst. She sat up with a gasp and rifled through her bag, her mind made up.
She found what she was looking for and held it up in her hand. It was a key-ring with a house key, a car key, lip gloss and a pocket knife.
Now, how do I go about it?
Her mind felt surprisingly clear as she flicked the blade open, cutting her fingers in the process. However, she hesitated. To tell the truth, Jordin was a wuss when it came to pain. Not knowing exactly what to do, she stared at the knife in her hands as she tried to decide.
* * * * *
He watched her with growing apprehension. Why was she playing with a knife? True, it was only tiny, but he knew just how much damage could be done with a blade. Oh yes, how he knew.
His eyes widened as she seemed to come to a decision and brought the knife up to her neck. She took a deep breath and her hands trembled slightly.
“Come on, Jordin, you can do it. Don't think about anything, just cut.”
She was going to purposely cut herself! All thoughts about keeping hidden completely vanished. He had to stop her!
* * * * *
Jordin closed her eyes and breathed evenly, but she couldn't stop her hand shaking. “Come on,” she said again, and set her teeth.
“Stop.” It was just a whisper, but she heard it. She put down her knife and looked around, but saw nothing.
She frowned and sighed. “Ok, now I’m hearing voices in my head. Further proof that I’m going crazy.” She raised the knife to her neck again.
“Stop!” The voice was stronger this time, and Jordin laughed maniacally.
“And why should I stop, oh voice-in-my-crazy-head? Or are you the ghost-of-the-mansion? I’m simply trying to end my sad excuse for a life, so if you would excuse me, I’d like to get back to what I was doing before I completely chicken out.”
“Why?”
“Because I can't stand it,” Jordin replied bitterly, “I can't stand Linda, or her efforts to get me a boyfriend, or having to put up with being called 'Goth-girl' at work, or...” she trailed off and shook her head. “Talking to myself again. I better get this over with before I completely lose it...”
“No!”
The voice was so strong now. Jordin looked around again and this time finally saw the figure crouching in the shadows. She suddenly felt angry.
“Who's that? Who is it spying on me and sneaking around in my secret hideout? Come out where I can see you, and don't try anything stupid. I’m armed!”

The figure started to come forward slowly, and Jordin narrowed her eyes. How dare this stranger spy on her? Although, he did stop me. I just about owe him my life.
She was surprised (and, although she didn't want to admit it, a little thankful too) to find that she no longer felt like raising the knife again.
“Now,” she began, “Would you kindly tell me...”
Jordin did a double-take as he came into the light. She stared for a moment at the numerous blades he appeared to be holding and then raised her eyes to meet his and sighed. “Great, just great. You stop me from killing myself just so you could do it yourself.” She spread her arms out defiantly. “Fine. Now hurry up before I have a chance to be afraid.”
The boy's eyes, which were already wide, widened some more. “I'm not going to kill you,” he said in a soft and oddly shy voice. Jordin wasn't completely convinced.
“Then why are you carrying all those knives?”
He held his arms up and looked at the 'knives' as if they were something terrible. “I'm not finished.”
Jordin gasped and her hand flew to her mouth as she realised the blades were attached to him.
“It's true!” she said in almost a whisper, “The story is true!” She pulled out her bag and fumbled around for her phone. Once she found it, she quickly snapped a picture, and then stood shakily. She stumbled over to the stairs, her eyes never leaving his face.
“I have to go,” she said rather dazedly, and hurried down the stairs.
The boy just stared after her, a look of sadness on his face.
* * * * *
He was relieved. The girl had come very close to hurting herself, and he felt somewhat proud that he stopped her. But he was also sad and a little bitter. She had seen him, and by the look on her face, he had scared her. Now she would never come back and he would be left alone again. The world just isn't fair.
* * * * *
Jordin was halfway down the street before her thoughts collected themselves. The scissor-boy is real! The story is true! It's true!
Her first emotions had been fear and then amazement, but now she felt guilty. How could I just run away? That was so rude. I have to go back and apologise...no, he was just too freaky. But I have to go back anyway, to get my stuff. What do I do?
She had a sudden idea. Mrs Rosewood! She might have some answers. The way she was talking when she was telling the story, I got the feeling that she had actually met him. And missed him...
And mulling over this, she hurried on.
Once home, she grabbed her mom's address book and flipped to the R's.
Randall, Reed, Riley... Rosewood! Rosewood, Kimberly. Mobile- 04 2536 2638.
Jordin grabbed her phone and flicked through her photos until she found the one she had taken this morning. She quickly sent it.
Her phone rang immediately, and Jordin knew who it was before she answered.
“Jordin Parker, isn't it? When was that photo taken?” asked Kimberly.
“About ten minutes ago.”
There was silence, then, “I want to know everything that happened.”
“Every detail?”
“Yes.”
“Um, well, I’ve been going to the mansion for about a month now and never saw him. Today I was really upset and wasn't thinking clearly, and I went to the mansion and.. um...” Jordin winced. “I was going to... um... do something stupid, and then I heard a voice. It told me to stop, and I thought I was hearing voices in my head, but then he came out of the corner. ”
“What happened?” Kimberly sounded impatient.
“I thought he was going to kill me, but when I saw that the blades were part of him, I kind of freaked out. I just snapped a picture and left.”
There was silence, then “You thought he was going to kill you?” Her voice was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Really?”
“Well, it looked like he was carrying a bunch of knives! For all I knew, he could have been some sort of psycho-killer!”
“He's not a killer!” Now she sounded angry.
“Well, in that story you told me, didn't you say that he killed some girl's boyfriend?”
“Yes, but he didn't really mean to.” Her voice had lost some of it's fierceness, and Jordin thought she sounded like she was going to cry. She remembered how emotional Kimberly looked when telling that story.
“Mrs Rosewood, did you know him personally?”
There was a sigh, and then a loud slam and lots of shouting. “Jordin, I have to go now. My grandchildren are home.”
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“Mrs Rosewood, if you don't want to talk about him personally, could you send me a letter telling me everything that happened? I’m very curious.”
There was a pause and another sigh. “Yes.”

Jordin stood in front of the gates, hesitating. She had no idea what she was going to say even though she had spent half the night and most of the morning planning it.
She had decided to go back to the mansion, if only to apologise to the 'boy with blades' for running away from him. Now she was here, she felt guilty and (not that she would ever had admitted it) a little scared.
She pushed the gate open and walked straight into the house, not even bothering to look at the garden. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she tiptoed up the stairs and into the attic.
* * * * *
He looked up from his corner as she came into the attic and stared at her, shocked. She came back? She actually came back? Why?
He watched as she looked all around and then peered into his shadowy corner. Is she looking for me?
* * * * *
She peered into the corner and saw a dark shape.
“Hello?” she called, fighting butterflies. She approached the corner and the shape shrunk back. “Hello?” she called again, “You can come out, you know. I’m not going to freak out this time.”
The shape moved forward this time and came into the light, and Jordin fidgeted nervously and looked down at her feet. The silence stretched out and hung awkwardly between them.
She took a deep breath and looked at him, and her butterflies flew away. There was something in his face that reassured her.
“You came back.” His voice had the same soft tone that had startled her yesterday.
“Yes,” she answered, a little surprised, “Would you rather I didn't?” She started to edge towards the stairs. “I could go if you want...”
“Don't go!” He stepped forward, something frantic in his voice now. Jordin could see her own intense loneliness reflected in his eyes, and it rooted her to the spot. She took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologise for running away yesterday. I really didn't mean to, but you just startled me.”
“I...I...I'm sorry..” He looked at his 'hands' in something like bitter resentment.
“Oh, no, I didn't mean those,” she pointed to the blades, “I mean, I didn't expect anybody to be here.”
There was another long silence. Then, “So, I didn't catch your name yesterday...”
The boy stared at her.
“Your name. What's your name?” Jordin asked again, a little impatiently.
“Edward.”
“Edward? Well, I’m Jordin. Jordin Parker.” She started to clear her stuff off the ledge. “I should probably take this home.” She looked around the room and then at her watch. “I should get going now.”
The boy- Edward- looked downcast, and Jordin hastened to reassure him. “I will be back, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His lips raised in a hint of a smile, and Jordin waved. “Bye!”
* * * * *
Jordin couldn't sleep. Her thoughts were filled with that mysterious boy from the mansion, Edward. If that story is true, he was built by an inventor. But he looks so young! The story took place years ago! I’ll have to talk to him tomorrow.

Jordin heard snipping and squeezed through the gate. Edward had just finished trimming the 'hand' sculpture and had his back to her, admiring his work.
“You missed a spot,” Jordin said. Edward swung around, startled, and she pointed to the 'thumb', where a little rogue stem was sticking up. “Right there.”
He snipped it and then turned back to her, the corners of his mouth turning up the tiniest bit. Jordin took that to mean that he was happy to see her and came up to him.
“So, it seems I’ve discovered the mysterious groundsman. What are those blades exactly?”
He held them up. “Scissors.”
Jordin nodded. “I see.” She gestured to the plants around them. “Would you mind showing me around?”
Edward's eyes brightened and Jordin followed him around the garden, marvelling at every new shaped bush. They came to a stop at prettily-shaped 'flower', but her praise was cut short as she spied the bed of flowers behind it. She slowly advanced forward and dropped to her knees in front of a bush of white Dwarf roses.
Jordin fingered a rose, deep in thought. Only when she absent-mindedly slid her hand down the stem to pick it did she seem to wake up a little. She stared at the blood on her finger as though unable to recognise where it came from.
“Are you ok?” The timid voice brought her back to her senses, and she looked up to see Edward's concerned face.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I just pricked my finger on a thorn, that's all.”
He reached forward and cut the rose of the bush, where it landed in her hands. She cradled it gingerly by the stem and held it to her nose.
That one sniff brought out a whirlpool of memories and emotions that Jordin had tried to keep hidden all those long months. She buried her face in her hands- regardless of the rose- and sobbed.
She was vaguely aware of Edward crouching next to her, but nothing mattered anymore. She just wanted to cry.
Finally her tears started to run out and she stopped and wiped her eyes.
There was a rustle and a metallic scraping sound, and Edward was next to her, trying to catch her eye. “Are you ok?” he asked again. The concern and worry on his face made Jordin laugh shakily.
“Yes. I’m sorry for making such a fuss.”
“Why are you so sad?”
Jordin was silent for a moment. Then, “White Dwarf roses were my grandmother's favourite flowers. The last thing she gave me before she died was a white rose, but it got misplaced in the move. And,” she clenched her hands, “Leon used to give me big bunches of them.”
Edward looked at her, his face innocent and understanding at the same time, and Jordin suddenly felt like telling him all her deepest, darkest secrets. Before she knew it, she had told him about everything- her grandmother, Leon, the father she never knew and the ridiculous Linda. He just sat and listened, not saying a word, and it was the most comforting thing Jordin had felt since her grandmother died.
They sat there on the grass in silence, long after Jordin had stopped talking. She had a vague realisation that she should be getting home, but she didn't want to go, not yet. The sun was setting and the air was getting colder, and she shivered suddenly, bringing all her thoughts crashing back down. Her senses sharpened and she became aware of the darkness around them. She got to her feet and laid the rose in her bag.
“You have to go?” said Edward before she could say a word, and she nodded. “Will you be back again?” he asked a little shyly.
“Of course!” Jordin said, smiling a little. “I'll always be back. See you tomorrow!”
* * * * *
He watched her as she went down the hill and out of sight. What had she said? 'I’ll always be back'.
When she said that, he got a warm feeling inside. It was strange, that feeling. He hadn't felt so content and happy since... no, he wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't.
And she had told him all the things that were bothering her. When had anyone confided in him like that? Never.
But he got the feeling that she hadn't told him everything. Not that it's any of my business, he thought, but there's something else, something that has always made her sad, and she hasn't told me about it. She's told me so much already... Why? Why did she trust me with all of that?
And, puzzling on this, he went back to trimming his garden.

“And where have you been?” Linda paused from tidying up the lounge room to put her hands on her hips and raise her eyebrows at Jordin, who had just come in the door.
“Out,” Jordin answered shortly. Since when has she cared about where I've been?
“Out where?”
“Just out. And why do you care?”
Linda blinked. “Because I’m your guardian while your mother is away. Now tell me, have you been up in the mansion again?”
Jordin crossed her arms defiantly. “If I have, what's it to you?”
Linda narrowed her eyes. “I don't like that attitude, young lady. Did you go up there or not?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don't want you going up there anymore. It's too dangerous.”
“Oh really? Dangerous how?”
Linda ticked it off on her fingers. “Number one, that hovel is old and rotting on top of itself. If it collapsed while you were in there, you could get seriously hurt or killed. Number two, your mother rang earlier and told me to tell you that she doesn't want you to go up there anymore.”
“It's not a hovel!” Jordin was fuming. She couldn't bear to think of Edward's house being called something like that. “The mansion is beautiful and it's not falling down any time soon.”
Linda ignored her. “And thirdly, I’ve been watching the news and there's always kids disappearing off the street or being killed or something like that. That house could be the perfect place for a serial-killer to hide.”
Jordin softened a little. Linda is only trying to protect me, she realised. Wow, I never thought she would ever be worried about me. She's usually too busy being a nuisance.
She suddenly put her arms around Linda and gave her a quick squeeze. “Linda, I appreciate what you're trying to do, really I do, but I’m not going to make any promises. Thank you anyway.” She pulled away and started towards her room, but stopped and turned around as she remembered something. “Oh, and by the way, no more dates for me.” She put her hand up to silence Linda's protest. “No, I mean it. I’m through with guys, ok?”
* * * * *
Jordin was working the weekend shift now. She was no longer stacking shelves; she had been moved to checkout-chick again and found it much better.
She had hardly paid any attention to the people at the checkout. She was too busy wondering why she had related her grievances to someone she barely knew.
I’ve only spoken to him twice and suddenly I feel like I’ve known him forever. How did that happen? Why did it happen? She thought back to the look in his face and eyes. Because he's just like me, she realised, An outcast. But there's more that that. I can almost sense his loneliness and pain. I think he's lost someone, just like me...
“Uh, hello?” The voice interrupted her thoughts, and Jordin gazed with amusement at the lady who was next in line. She looked about fifty and wore green pants, a yellow top and many scarves of different colours. She looked just like the rest of the neighbourhood- pastel and ridiculous. Jordin wasn't used to the neighbourhood yet, and couldn't resist giggling a little.
The woman looked at her. “Hey, you're the girl who always goes to the mansion!”
Jordin stifled a groan. She had forgotten about the nosy neighbours. “Yeah, what of it?”
“Have you heard the story about the place? There was...”
Jordin gritted her teeth. “Yeah, I know all about the boy who supposedly had scissors for hands. I’ve heard it from two different people, and I can tell you, I don't believe it. By the way, how did you know that I go up there?”
“Well, I heard it from Joan who heard it from Jill who heard it from Cassie who heard it from Marge...”
“Well, I would like it if you stopped gossiping about it. You can tell Joan and Jill and Cassie and Marge and everyone else that there is nothing to worry about. I only go up there to get time to myself and be alone. There is no scissor-boy, and I don't believe there ever was.”
The lady was about to say something else but the other people in line were starting to get impatient.
“Hey, who's holding up the line?” someone complained, and the woman hurriedly paid for her item and left.

Jordin paused in front of her house and looked around. How could she have forgotten the neighbours? They probably watch me go up there every day, she realised, and what's to stop them from coming up too?
Living right next to the hill was helpful, but she would have to find another way in, and then try to get everyone to think that she wasn't going there anymore. She couldn't risk the neighbours finding Edward, not after what had happened last time. By the way, I still have to talk to him about that.
Jordin wheeled her bike into the garage and looked up at the mansion. I’m sorry Edward, but I can't come today, she said silently, I hope you'll understand.
In her room, Jordin started rifling through one of the boxes that she still hadn't unpacked. Inside she found a dance CD, one she hadn't listened to in years. Moving her bed and dresser, she set up the CD player and played the music.
She was jumping around to a rather funky song when it happened. All of the sudden there was a crack and the carpet beneath her feet sagged. She twisted her foot around and tumbled to the floor.
When Jordin finally had the presence of mind to look for the source of her fall, the sagging carpet made her stare. Forgetting the pain in her foot, she grabbed her pocketknife and started cutting around the spot. When she had cut three-fourths of the way around, she lifted up the piece of carpet and peered underneath. All she saw was blackness.
Jordin stretched out her hand and felt around the side of the hole until she could feel something metal. Further inspection revealed it to be a ladder, and without another thought she lowered herself onto it began to climb down.
She found that the hole wasn't very deep, and soon she was facing solid darkness. With eyes wide


open, she groped around in front of her but found nothing. Taking a deep breath, she started walking forward.
I’ve found a secret passage under my room, she thought excitedly. I wonder where it leads?
* * * * *
It felt like she had been walking for hours. She stumbled blindly along, crashing into walls every once in a while because the passage had started winding around and around, and hardly realised that it was leading uphill. She came to some steps and went up, almost colliding with another ladder at the top.
She climbed the ladder and felt around on the roof, coming to another trapdoor. This time, though, she couldn't open it. She pushed with all her might, but it only shifted up a few millimetres before lowering again. She banged on it in frustration. Had she come this far for nothing?
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in his garden, Edward was cutting some of the flowers around his 'hand' sculpture while peering down the driveway somewhat impatiently. Where is she? he thought, Why hasn't she come yet?
Suddenly he heard muffled banging sounds, and one of the paving stones he was standing on shifted a little. There was more banging, and he stared at the stone. Sticking one of his blades in the crack between two of them, he levered it up and then dropped it in surprise. There was wood underneath!
* * * * *
Jordin heard the thump and almost fell off the ladder. There was someone on the other side!
Desperately, she pounded on it and yelled at the top of her voice. It echoed weirdly in the passage, and filtered through to the other side of the trapdoor...
* * * * *
He heard the thumping and yelling from underneath the stone, and levered it up again. There was a small door in the ground, and the hammering and yelling was much louder now...
* * * * *
Jordin suddenly felt the huge weight on top of the door disappear, and decided to try to open it again. She stood on the top rung of the ladder, almost bent double, and gave it a push.
The trapdoor opened slowly, it's rusty hinges screeching protestingly. The mid-afternoon light filtered down and almost blinded her. When she had regained sight, she stared up at Edward's astonished face.
“Hello.”

“So, I have a secret passage that leads from my room to your house.” Jordin and Edward stood side by side above the hole in the path. “Well, that's interesting.” She turned to him. “Why do think this is here?” Edward just looked at her, baffled. He was still coming to terms with her sudden appearance from the ground.
“Ok, let’s work this out.” Jordin frowned as she tried to think. Then she clicked her fingers. “I've got it! From the story I’ve heard, you were created by an inventor, correct?”
Edward nodded, a little embarrassed. Jordin didn't seem to notice.
“Well, from what I can deduce from limited information, this,” she gestured to the mansion, “could have just been his personal lab. His real house could have been where I’m living now. He obviously needed an inconspicuous way to get here, so he created a secret passage leading from his house to his lab. What do you think?”
Edward nodded, and spoke softly. “Yes. He told me about it.”
“Oh?” Jordin was curious. “Was he living here when you...” she wracked her brains for the right word, “when you... became alive?”
Edward nodded again, but seemed embarrassed again and unwilling to say any more.
* * * * *
Jordin had it all worked out. She would use the passage to visit Edward, and block off the driveway to make people think that she wasn't going up there anymore. The trip up the passage was easier than the climb up the hill, and besides, the neighbours would see her if she used the hill. She didn't want anyone to become any more curious than they were and come up here, where they would find Edward. She didn't know what would happen if he was discovered again, but something told her it wouldn't be good.
The first thing she did was to go down the driveway and close the front gate. Then she jammed it shut with a fallen branch, so tight that she felt sure it would never open again. Perfect, she thought.
On her way back she was arrested by the faint smell of fruit. She followed the smell to a giant bush laden with small red berries- lunch. She came back to the mansion with as many as she could carry in her shirt.
Jordin sat on the front steps and emptied her shirt of the berries. She patted the space next to her. “Come on, sit down, Edward. Let's have lunch.”
She was struck by the way his eyes would light up and his lips curve up into an almost-smile every time she was friendly to him. How long has it been since anyone was friendly to him? she wondered.
He sat next to her and they began eating. Well, she started eating. Edward chased a few berries with his scissors and then gave up, looking gloomy.
“Hey, Edward, aren’t you going to eat?” asked Jordin when she realised he wasn't eating. He twitched his scissors uncomfortably and didn't answer.
She looked at him, about to ask again, but then realised what the problem was.
“Ok, which is your smallest blade? You could pierce them one at a time.” He held up a blade that could have been called a pinkie. It was a little too large and razor sharp. Jordin shook her head. “Too risky. How about I feed you?”
He shook his head. “I don't have to eat,” he said quietly, and got up and wandered away.
Jordin sighed. Why does he have to be difficult? There's nothing to be embarrassed about.
She took a handful of berries and followed him. He was around the side of the mansion that she hadn't seen yet, where there were more sculptures. He had his back to her, looking through a space between the trees at the sky.
Jordin briefly fingered the green leafy ear of a kangaroo and then came up behind Edward.
“You know, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Sure, you might not be able to pick up your food, but you're very talented. You made all this,” she waved her hand in the direction of the sculptures, “out of your memory. I would love to be able to do something like that. Heck, I’d even settle for hands like yours!”
At this he turned, a look of amazement on his face. “Really?”
“Sure!” She grinned. “They're pretty cool, you know. Now, are you going to let me feed you or not?”
He opened his mouth a little and she popped a berry in, and they both smiled.

Jordin woke before the alarm went off and pressed the snooze button just as it started. It's Friday, she remembered, and my new hours have started. I don't have to go to work until next Saturday!
She closed her eyes and thought about the night before.
She had left soon after she fed Edward the berries, running blindly down the passage in panic, hoping Linda was still in the living room watching TV. She had emerged in her room and moved the bed back to it's original position just in time for Linda to walk in, announcing that Jordin had mail.
She looked over at the parcel lying on the floor, still unopened. She rolled out of bed, grabbed it and looked on the back. In the space that read 'sender', there was one name: Kimberly Rosewood.
Jordin was about to open it when she decided to delay. Why don't I open it at Edward's? After all, it is about him.
She grabbed her bag and put the parcel inside, and this time took her torch. Then it was to the kitchen to pack some food and write a note to Linda, explaining that she didn't work during the week anymore and that she was out, and not to expect her home for a while.
She didn't move anything around this time; there was just enough room to open the trapdoor and slip down from underneath the bed. The trip up the passage was shorter now she could see and knew where she was going. The walls and floor were hard-packed earth, and Jordin wondered how long it would have taken to dig.
Edward hadn't expected her to come so early, so he wasn't there to greet her in the garden.
“Hey, Edward!” she yelled, and waved when he appeared in one of the windows.
She slipped inside and met him on the staircase.
“Hi!” she said enthusiastically, “I don't suppose you have anything special planned for today, do you?” He shook his head. “Good. Now let's have breakfast, I’m starving.”
She went up into the attic and unpacked breakfast: bread, butter and jam. Looking up, she saw Edward looking at her quizzically.
“What?” she asked.
“You came early.”
“I only work on weekends now.” She smiled. “So I can spend more time up here.”
Instead of looking pleased, he cast down his eyes. “Why do you keep coming?”
The question was so unexpected that Jordin was speechless for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“Why?” he repeated.
Jordin thought for a minute. “Well, I guess I’m curious about you and I like this house a lot. But... I also like spending time with you.”
Edward's eyes widened, and she hurriedly changed the subject. “Ok, let's eat. Jam sandwiches should be easy for you.”
She dug around for a knife but then remembered that she hadn't packed one. “Oh, great,”she groaned, “I forgot the knife. How are we supposed to...” She broke off and eyed Edward's scissors. “Hey, maybe you can help me out.”
She opened the jars and watched as he took some butter from one and spread it onto a few pieces of bread, followed by the jam. He handed her a slice.
“Thanks,” she said, taking it and smiling at him. “Those things are very helpful, you know.”
He almost smiled.
After breakfast he disappeared to look after his garden and Jordin curled up on the bed to open her parcel. Inside was a black book, and flicking through it, she discovered that it was a diary. The first page read:
Last night I arrived home from our camping trip. When I got inside the house felt strange, as if there was someone else besides the family here. I went to my room and looked in the mirror and saw what looked like a guy holding a bunch of knives lying in my bed! I screamed and fled out the door. Mom and dad came out into the hallway and tried to calm me down while I tried to explain about the murderer in my bedroom. They didn't seem to be worried about it. The man came out and I screamed again and mom took me away while dad took the man down to the basement. When he was gone mom explained to me that he had scissors for hands and was staying with us. She told me that she found him living in the creepy old house on the hill and felt sorry for him. I couldn't understand why she had to bring him here; I still don't. She told me to go say hello and shake his hand- I actually took her literately. She also told me that I scared him half to death- LOL! We went down to say hello and he and dad were drinking something and I know for sure that it wasn't lemonade. When he turned around he tried to talk but collapsed instead with the straw still in his mouth. He obviously didn't have much alcohol up there.
I had to sleep in Kevin's spare bed because that guy just about destroyed my water bed. What was mom thinking?

When Edward returned, Jordin was laughing uncontrollably. She tried to stop when she saw him and was reduced to small fits of giggles while he stood there, confused.
“Are you ok?” he asked, a little concerned.
This was too much for Jordin, and she exploded again. “Waterbed... lemonade...!” she managed to gasp out.
Edward frowned. Those words were familiar, but they didn't sound like anything to laugh about.
When Jordin had calmed down, she put her hand up to Edward's unasked questions. “No, don't worry about it. It's nothing.”
She rummaged through her bag and came up with her diary. Flicking through the pages, she came to a decision.
“Edward, could you do me a favour?” she asked, holding up her diary, “Can you cut up all the pages with writing on them? I don't need them anymore. Oh, and if you could cut them into shapes, that would be nice.”
He nodded and took the book, and Jordin started reading again.

Last night I had Jim and Annette over for dinner. Edward was carving the meat. He still freaks me out a bit, but I think he likes me- after all, he did yell my name from Marge's house when I was walking home from school. That makes me feel uncomfortable. I just hope Jim doesn't get it into his head that he has a rival, because then he gets really aggressive.
Dad and Jim were talking about money and how Jim should pay for his own car even through his parents have lots of money, blah blah blah. Edward offered some meat to Annette but she refused because she said it was 'unsanitary'. Honestly, that girl is worried about everything. He then offered it to me but dropped it in my lap instead of my plate. Jim laughed and I felt so embarrassed. He's so clumsy, but I suppose that comes from having scissors for hands.

There was some things about school and Jim that she flicked through and then Jordin found two other entries.

Edward was on the television today; it was some question and answer show. He was being interviewed by a few people. Kevin, Jim and I were watching it at home. Dad was at work and mom was with Edward on the show. The audience asked a few questions and then one woman asked 'do you have a girlfriend?' The presenter laughed and said 'what about it Edward? Is there some special lady in your life?' Jim and Kevin started teasing me, and Edward looked right into the camera. I knew that there were probably hundreds of women watching the show and he could be thinking of any one of them, but it looked and felt like he was looking directly at ME.
There was total silence as he drew closer to the microphone. I was half hoping he wouldn't say my name but also hoping that he would. It ends up he didn't say anyone's name. His scissors touched the wires from the microphone and he was electrocuted and fell backwards in the chair. I was worried but Jim and Kevin weren’t. In fact, they thought it was hilarious.
+++++++
I feel so bad. Jim discovered something useful about Edward- he can pick locks. As a result, Edward got arrested.
You see, Jim wanted some of his parents stuff to sell so that he could by a van like Denny's. Problem was, his parents keep everything under lock and key. Who better to help us than Edward?
We- Jim, Annette, Denny, Edward and me- went to Jim's house at night and got in easily. Edward had no idea what he was doing, because we had told him that they were taking back some things that had been stolen from Jim. Innocent as he is, Edward believed us.
Anyway, Edward went in front of us and tripped the alarm. He got locked in the room while we managed to escape. I didn't want to leave him but Jim dragged me away. The police arrived just after we left and Edward was taken in.
They kept him in prison overnight and had a psychiatrist examine him. Edward didn't tell anyone that he was framed or that it was our idea, so he got blamed for the whole thing. Mom blames herself.
When he got home I apologised for leaving him and he told me that he had already known that it was Jim's house. When I asked him why he did it, he told me it was because I asked him to. That was a terrible moment and I felt so guilty. I still do.
Jim called me from outside and I went out to give him a piece of my mind. Edward was really upset and scratched the wallpaper up in the bathroom. He also wrecked most of the towels.
His reputation is ruined. No-one likes him anymore except us and that Esmeralda is all 'I told you so'. I don't know what to do. I feel so confused and I think I actually feel something for him. I can't tell anyone anything.

“I'm finished.”
Jordin looked up. Edward had cut the paper into intricate little shapes and was now clearing up.
“Oh, Edward!” she gasped, holding up a star with too many points to count. “They're beautiful!”
He looked down, unsure of what to do with this praise. Jordin got down off the bed and started collecting all the excess paper. A piece of hair fell into her face, and without a second thought, Edward cut it.
Jordin looked up in surprise. He shrank away, not sure if she would be angry or if he should have asked her permission first. But instead, she was smiling.
“Edward, I didn't know you cut hair!” she said, and then frowned. “Of course, I should have guessed that you could. After all, you're so talented with plants and paper.” She brightened up. “Hey, could you give me a haircut?”
For the first time in years, he gave a real smile. True, it was only small, but it was a start. Jordin giggled. “Finally, you smile! I was starting to think you didn't know how to!”
She turned herself around on the floor so that she was facing away from him and he studied her hair for a moment. He raised his scissors up to her head.
“Nothing too wild, ok?” said Jordin, suddenly feeling a little nervous. Cutting trees was one thing, but cutting hair... and with his creativeness?
Edward nodded and began to cut. He knew exactly what would look good on her and it wasn't wild at all.
When he had finished she put her hand up to her head tentatively. By the feel of it, he had cut a lot off. But it didn't feel wild or strange. In fact, it felt a lot better.
“Thank you. It feels great!” she said, smiling warmly. He cast his eyes down, and Jordin wondered inwardly if he would ever overcome his excessive modesty. She got out her purse from her bag and pulled out a tiny mirror. He had cut her hair into a spikey 'bob'. Very funky, she thought.
“Hey,” she said softly, dropping the mirror into her bag and approaching Edward. “There's no need to be so shy. I love it.” And with that she hugged him.
He stiffened but then relaxed. He hadn't been hugged in a very long time, not since... he teared his thoughts away. He would not think about that.
Jordin suddenly realised that she was still hugging him and pulled away a little too fast. She jumped away as one of Edward's blades cut her arm.
He started to apologise over and over, too frightened to speak above a whisper. He came a little nearer to look at the damage but ended up cutting her again, right next to the first cut. He retreated, almost in tears.
Jordin held her arm and rifled through her trusty old bag for something, anything to stop the bleeding, all the while trying to console Edward. “Don't worry about it, it wasn't your fault. Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry.”
She found a wide headband. This'll do. “Edward, could you cut this please?”
He was still standing to the side, hesitant to approach.
“Come on, do you want to help me or not?” Jordin said impatiently, and he cut it, ashamed.
She tied the strip of stretchy material that had once been a headband around the cuts and the bleeding immediately stopped.
She looked at Edward and smiled. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
He didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he went downstairs. Jordin gathered up all her things and followed him out the door and into the garden, a little exasperated. What is wrong with him?
Edward was absent-mindedly snipping at the bushes of flowers. Jordin came up behind him. “Edward, what's wrong?”
“You should go home.” It almost sounded like an order, but Jordin was never one to take orders without a reason.
“Why's that?”
“I cut you,” he said bitterly, “I'm dangerous. Why do you stay where you're not safe?”

She was silent. “They said I'm a monster,” Edward whispered.
Now Jordin was angry. “Who did?”
He pointed in the direction of the perfect streets of suburbia, and Jordin remembered the story of his visit down there. How can people be so cruel?
She spoke calmly, but Edward could detect the the anger in her voice.
“You are not a monster,“ she said evenly. “Don't ever call yourself that. Those people were ignorant and blind and couldn't see the person inside. Their opinion isn't worth anything. You may not be perfect, but you are more human than anyone I know. There's nothing wrong with having scissors for hands. And,” she paused, “You asked me why I stay here? I can answer that. It's because, Edward, even though I’ve only known you for about four days, I know I can find a friend in you. You listen to me and seem to understand how I feel. I think...” she spoke softly now, “I think you do, actually. After all, both of us have suffered great loneliness. You're not the only outcast here, you know.”
Edward looked concerned. “What do you mean?
“Let's sit down,” said Jordin, and when they were comfortable she began to relate her story. She told him about school, how the other girls had always viewed her as different ever since she was younger and how she never had any friends. How, after her last listening ear, her grandmother, died, there was no-one to talk to. How no-one understood her feelings and she slid further and further into impenetrable gloom, until finally her mother had decided to move. How she had rejected school and started working instead, thinking that she would have a fresh start, a new beginning, only to find that she wasn't excepted there either. And finally, how she had found shelter from the world in this dark, seemingly deserted mansion and managed to make a friend.
Edward listened with mixed emotions. Her defence for him, her story so similar to his own and her reference to friendship gave him a warm, happy feeling inside, and a gladness that he wasn't alone in the world after all, but also a sympathy for her, for all that she had been through. It was a good feeling.
* * * * *
After lunch, Jordin started exploring the house and stumbled across the library. Or rather, what was left of the library.
The room was large but gave the impression of being small. Half the books were on the floor along with stacks of paper and random machine parts. The remaining books were strewn untidily on shelves and there were faded diagrams on the walls. There was an old desk in a corner with ancient-looking writing equipment resting on top and a couple of chairs in the middle of the room. Every surface was covered in dust except for a well worn path on the floor that led from the doorway to one of the shelves.
Jordin breathed in the musty smell that was a mixture of old books and motor oil and stood in the doorway, staring. Then she walked in, slowly so as not to raise too much dust, and took a book from one of the shelves.
“Jordin?”
Jordin looked up to see Edward in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” she said, smiling, “I was just wandering around and found this place. Isn't it amazing?”
He nodded.
“Do you come here often?”
He nodded again.
“You don't say much, do you?”
Edward looked a little sheepish, unsure of what to do. Jordin laughed. “Oh, don't pay any attention to me. I had figured that out for myself a while ago, anyway.”
She looked at the book in her hands. “Journey to the Centre of the Earth, by Jules Verne. I take it then that you like the classics?”
“It's not mine.” His voice was barely audible.
“Well whose is it then?”
“It was... his.”
“Oh.” Jordin understood immediately and didn't press the point. She pulled another book off the shelf and two from the floor. “Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin and Emma by Jane Austin. Well, it looks like our inventor friend was a bit of a romantic!” She laughed, and Edward smiled a little. He didn't understand where the humour was, but he liked to hear Jordin laugh.

A few weeks passed, and the diary was left on Jordin's bookshelf and forgotten. Soon it was time for Nadia to come home, but Jordin barely noticed. She visited Edward every day- afternoons on weekends and most of the day the rest of the time. She had bought a lock for her door so that prying eyes- namely, Linda- wouldn't discover her absence. Linda thought she was rearranging her things and sorting through clothes and that kind of thing, and never wondered about the strange silence of the empty room. What she did notice, though, was Jordin's changed mood, but none of her questioning revealed anything, for Jordin wasn't about give up her secret.
Jordin was in the kitchen making cookies when Nadia walked in with all her bags.
“Good afternoon, Jordin,” she said nonchalantly over the sound of the electric mixer, not expecting much of a welcome.
Jordin whipped around, almost upsetting the bowl, and smiled warmly. “Hi, mom!”
Nadia was speechless with shock. Jordin smiled at her! Jordin hasn't smiled since mother died! she thought. She sat down at the counter and looked on a little dazedly as Jordin turned off the mixer, came over and gave her a kiss. “So, how was the trip?”
“Fine,” Nadia managed to say.
“That's good,” Jordin said, “I'll just put the cookies in the oven and then we can talk.”
Nadia studied Jordin as she sat watching her spoon cookie dough onto oven trays. What is it? she wondered, what's changed? It's not her clothes; she's still dressed in black. It's not her face; she still made up like she used to be. It's her eyes; they shine like she's almost...happy.
Jordin, acutely aware that her mother was sizing her up, felt uncomfortable. Mom is more shrewd than Linda, she thought, so I’ll have to be extra careful with what I say. She put the trays in the oven and sat down opposite her mother.
“So,” she said, trying to sound cheerful, “Where in Europe did you go?”
“France, Switzerland and Germany.” Nadia looked at her watch. “Hey, it's ten o'clock. Aren't you supposed to be at work?”
“No, it's Monday. I only work weekends.”
“Why? What do you do the rest of the week?”
“Stuff.”
“Oh.” There was silence, then, “You seem happier. Was Linda a good sitter?”
“No. She was terrible. She was always trying to get me a boyfriend. I had to really put my foot down.”
Nadia shook her head. “I'll have to talk to her. But what did you do while I was away? What made
you happy again?”
Jordin crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Nothing. I don't know what you're talking about.”
The lie stretched out in the silence between them. Lying to mom is so different from lying to Linda, Jordin realised, but have I really changed so much?
The timer rang, making both of them jump. Jordin took the cookies out of the oven and emptied half of them, still hot, into a plastic container. “The rest are for you and Linda,” she said to her mother, and grabbed her bag off the bench.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere.”
“Are you still going to the mansion?”
“No.” The lie slipped out easily, and Jordin felt guilty. Lying was almost a part of her life now, but it had to be if she was to keep Edward a secret. She had a sudden urge to tell her mother everything, but would it be too much for her? “Hey mom, I've got a random question. If you saw or heard about something really weird, creepy or scary, what would you do?”
“You know how much I hate that sort of thing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Jordin was about to walk out of the kitchen when Nadia called her back. “So, where are you going?”
“Just my bedroom. I've got to do some stuff.”
Nadia sighed.

Nadia went looking for Linda and found her in the bedroom, reading. She hoisted her heavy bag up onto the bed and sat down next to it as Linda looked up.
“Had a good old chat with Jordin, then?”
“I suppose.”
“What's wrong?” asked Linda, a little concerned.
“She's changed so much, Linda. I don't get it. She's almost...”
“Happy? Yes, I noticed it too.”
“But when I asked her about it, she wouldn't tell me anything.”
“I know. Every time I question her, she shuts up like a clam. I think she's hiding something.”
“Well, that's evident, but what is it?” Nadia sank into the bed helplessly. “What can I do to get my daughter to talk to me?”
Linda thought hard. “Maybe if you leave it she'll come to you of her own accord.”
“Maybe.” Nadia shook her head. “I just feel that I'm always doing something wrong. I know that I wasn't always there for her when she needed me, but that can't be why she was so depressed. Can it?”
“I don't know,” Linda said softly.
Nadia sighed and then remembered something. “By the way,” she began, looking sternly at Linda, “You and I need to talk about something. Namely, boyfriends...?”
* * * * *
Jordin locked her door and sat in front of the mirror. How much have I changed? she thought, staring at her reflection. Her makeup suddenly looked ridiculous. Why should I do myself up like this? It's interesting, sure. Gothic? Yeah. Pretty? Not really.
About twenty minutes later she entered Edward's garden. He was sitting on the front steps, waiting for her.
“Hi, Edward!” She waved cheerily, not noticing the look on his face. “Sorry I'm late. I was baking cookies for us.” She took out the container and showed him, and finally noticed his look. “What? What are you staring at?”
“Your face,” he whispered, a little embarrassed.
“Oh!” Jordin touched her face self-consciously. “I took my makeup off. It was just too depressing.” She smiled a little. “Fancy me saying that! Just a few months ago, I was wearing it for that very reason! What do you think?”
“You look pretty,” he said honestly, and at that moment, Jordin realised why she had changed. It was because she had a friend who made her feel good. Not just a friend, a confidante, someone who she could talk to without having to keep secrets. Someone who would always be honest with her. Someone like him. And then suddenly, she thought of her mother.
Edward noticed her slight change of emotion. “What's wrong?” he asked, worried a little. Had he said the wrong thing?
“Nothing,” she replied thoughtfully, “It's just that... my mother is home.” Did she just imagine it, or did his eyes light up briefly when she said that? She shook her head. “I can lie to Linda or anyone else for as long as I want, but I don't know how long I can lie to mom.”
“She doesn't know?”
“Of course not! For one thing, she told me herself that she hates anything... unexpected. Or different. She's forbidden me from coming here, and if she knew where I disappear to every day, she'd have my guts for garters.” She laughed. “Guts for garters! I never thought I would say that! And for another thing, she can hardly ever keep a secret. If she knew about you it would be all over the neighbourhood by now. And that would be a disaster.”
* * * * *
Edward looked through the trees at the distant streets of suburbia and sighed. If only everything was better. If only the world was a good place. If only...
Jordin smiled. “I know what you're thinking. You were hoping that the world would be different from last time. So much time has passed, and maybe people are nicer, more ready to except.” Her expression turned sober. “I'm afraid not, Edward. Look at what happened to me. This world isn't better. It's getting worse every day. If you went down there again, or if people knew you were here, I wouldn't like to imagine what would happen.”
He was amazed. How had she read his mind?
* * * * *
Jordin was taken aback at what she had said. By the look on Edward's face, she had touched on exactly what he was thinking. How did I do that?
She gave a shaky laugh. “Well, that was weird. Now come on, let's eat these cookies.”

They were sitting on the grass in the afternoon shadows, the empty container resting between them. There wasn't a sound to be heard besides the whisper of the wind and the rustling in the trees.
There can't be anything in the world better than this, thought Jordin dreamily, and looked over at Edward, who was absent-mindedly snipping at blades of grass. Sitting with a friend, sharing food, listening to the wind and forgetting all your troubles. I don't need the world to accept me for what I'm not, as long as there's someone who'll accept me for who I am.
Edward looked up and caught her watching him. His questioning look basically asked 'why are you staring at me?'
“I was just thinking about my mother,” Jordin lied. She could feel that somehow he knew she was lying, but she didn't say anymore.
“Why don't you talk to her?”
“I don't know.” In truth, Jordin had never thought about it before. She closed her eyes. “I suppose it might be because when grandma was alive, I talked to her. I didn't need to talk to mom. And she was wrapped up in work, and I didn't think she'd understand my problems. So I just got used to not talking to her.” She opened her eyes and looked at Edward. “That sounds pretty bad, doesn't it.”
“Maybe you should,” he said slowly, “Maybe you should talk to her now.”
It sounded strange to hear this innocent boy of few words give her advice, and it made Jordin curious. “Why? What's the point?”
“Something might happen.” This was said almost fearfully, and Jordin realised he was right. What if her mother died before she could talk to her? “Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it.”
They sat in comfortable silence once again, and then: “Edward, have you lost someone?”
The question was so out of the blue that Jordin was startled at herself. Where did that come from?
Edward closed his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered.
“What happened?” Jordin couldn't stop herself.
He bowed his head and didn't answer, and Jordin cursed her curiosity. Honestly, I can be so insensitive sometimes.
She desperately wracked her brain for something consoling to say but could find nothing. Instead, she reached over and brushed some hair out of his face.
Her fingers lightly touched his forehead, and suddenly a feeling of great sorrow course through her, and tears came to her eyes. She pulled her hand away with a gasp.
Edward raised his head and looked at her, and Jordin was moved by the sadness in those eyes. She reached out and touched his temple again, and the feeling returned.
What is going on? she wondered.
Suddenly, on an impulse, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his. She closed her eyes and immediately saw a rather blurry picture in her mind.
An old man was smiling and holding something out. The mist cleared and she saw they were hands. Life-like, plastic hands. There was a faint feeling of wonder and excitement, but that abruptly changed with the expression on the man's face. He had been smiling, but now he looked as if he was in pain. His face went deathly pale and he collapsed to the floor.
The hands were on the floor now, destroyed. They looked like they had been cut by... scissors? Yes, scissors.
She looked back at the man on the floor, who now had three long cuts on his cheek as if from... scissors. He was cold, pale, unmoving. Dead.
Then the scene changed. There was panic, faint voices in the background, gradually getting louder. A girl's face came into view. She had red hair and big brown eyes and she was crying, and now there was love and despair. “I love you,” she was whispering, and then there was a multitude of emotions, all mixed together, and a kiss.
Then the noise was suddenly louder and the girl was gone, running down the stairs, leaving behind her all those feelings, but the strongest of all was sadness.
Jordin pulled away, tears running down her face. Once more she tried to find something, anything to say. But it was impossible. There was nothing she could say. Instead, she put her arms around him and held him close, and they stayed like that for a long time.

Nadia jumped as Jordin came out of her room and into the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” she demanded.
“My room.”
“Do you realise what time it is? Five o'clock! You've been in your room for hours! What have you been doing?”
“Nothing.” Jordin got a glass of water and sat at the bench opposite her mother. Nadia was about to ask something else when she realised that there would be no point. Jordin was there but her eyes were far away, like her head was on another world. What is going on? Nadia wondered a little worriedly, What am I going to do with her?
Jordin finished her water and headed out again. “I'm going for a ride.”
* * * * *
Jordin sat in the food court, picking at her fish and chips. It had taken a twenty minute long ride into the next town to clear her mind, and she had wanted some place where she could think undisturbed. Now she realised she had made a stupid choice. How did she think she'd get peace and quiet in a shopping mall?
She sighed and went outside to get her bike.
After riding around aimlessly, Jordin found an abandoned playground. She leaned her bike against a tree and sat down on one of the squeaky swings.
I can read Edward's mind! was her first thought. No, that's impossible. But then, a lot of things seem impossible. It really happened; that's one thing I can't deny. I didn't exactly read his mind; it was almost as if I was watching a movie. I saw what he saw and felt what he felt. Even touching him transferred his feelings to me. It's all so... weird. There's no such thing as mind-reading or mind-watching or stuff like that, is there?
An icy wind blew through the trees, making her shiver. The swing next to her moved slightly, making an eery squeak.
I need to talk to someone, but there's no-one. No-one would understand. No-one... She suddenly remembered Edward's advice. I need to talk to mom. Not about this; I can't talk to anyone about this, but I've been neglecting her for too long. She needs to know about the past, even if telling it is painful.
* * * * *
Jordin stood in the kitchen and waited until her mother had finished at the sink. “Mom,” she began, and Nadia looked up expectantly. “Can we talk?”
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Jordin and Nadia were sitting in the lounge room, laughing over some joke that Nadia had made.
Nadia put her arm around her daughter and gave her a squeeze. “Are you finished, or is there something else you want to tell me?”
Jordin smiled. “No, I'm finished.”
Now that they had had such a good talk, Nadia felt that it was safe to ask another question. “What about your recent mood change? Something must have happened while I was away. What was it?”
“Nothing. I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Jordin, please don't close up again. I know there's something, so why don't you tell me? You can tell me anything and I wont be angry, or judge you, or anything like that. There is something, isn't there?”
Jordin softened. “Yes. But this is the one thing I just can't tell you. Please, don't ask anymore questions, because I'm sick of lying.”
“But is there a chance you might tell me in future?”
“Maybe.”
Nadia smiled, satisfied. “Did ever tell you that I love you?”

Jordin grinned at Edward as she climbed out of the passage and let out a contented sigh. “Well, I did it!”
“Did what?”
“Talked to her.” She straightened up and dusted her hands off. “Yesterday. I told her everything and it felt so good! I guess I expected her to be angry or something, but she just listened.”
Edward nodded, but then looked stricken. “Everything?”
“Oh, no, I didn't tell her about you. She knows I have a secret and she did ask some questions, but I just said that I couldn't tell her.” She sighed. “At least I won't have to lie anymore, and you're safe.”
Rummaging around in her bag, she came up with two bars of chocolate and a plastic container of scrambled eggs. “A strange breakfast, I know, but that doesn't matter.”
They sat on the grass underneath the hand sculpture and started eating. Edward liked the scrambled eggs but he wasn't prepared for what came next.
“Have you ever had chocolate?”
He shook his head.
“Never?” Jordin was incredulous. “Seriously? Not even when you were down there?”
He shook his head again.
“Well, we'll have to fix that.”
Later, up in the attic, Jordin was trying to get Edward to draw. Obviously, he couldn't hold the pencil, but Jordin tied it to one of his blades and gave him a piece of paper, and he was doing quite well with it.
Jordin was drawing Edward- or trying to, anyway. Her first few attempts were hopeless, but then she stopped trying and just studied his face, and her hand took on a life of it's own.
She stopped when she got to the eyes. This is impossible, she thought to herself. Now I know what they meant at school when they said da Vinci was the only one who managed to capture the eyes in his painting.
She stared at Edward's eyes and soon forgot her picture. Wow, his eyes really are beautiful. Come to think of it, his whole face is beautiful. He's a work of art. How did that inventor make him so perfect?
Edward looked up at that moment and caught her staring at him. She quickly looked down and started doodling on her paper.
“How much do you know?”
Jordin looked up. “About what?”
He looked at the giant hole in the ceiling. “When I went down there.”
“There are stories.” Jordin spoke slowly, trying to think of a good answer. “Stories about a boy with scissors for hands who went down there. Most of them end badly. They say that you tried to rob a house, and attack a kid in the street. That you threatened a woman in the back of a shop and killed some girl's boyfriend.”
Edward's eyes were wide, and Jordin didn't have to read his mind to know that he was angry, sad and horrified at the same time. She hastened to reassure him.
“But I know better. I know that the robbery was a set-up, and I know you would never willingly hurt anybody. I also know that that woman who said you threatened her tried to seduce you, and when you rejected her she spread all those rumours about you. And I know that you didn't mean to kill Jim. So don't worry about it, because you have nothing to fear.”
A feeling of relief swept over her, and for a moment she was confused. Why am I relieved?
Then she realised it wasn't her feeling, it was his. “That's interesting.”
“What is?”
“Well, yesterday I... what's the word... I watched your mind. Like a movie. I touched you and I felt what you did. Just now, I didn't even touch you, but I felt your feelings. It's like we have some sort of... connection. I wonder, will it work the other way around?”
She could tell that he didn't understand, so she decided to try it.
“Ok, make your mind blank. Don't think about anything, and try to reach into my mind.” She conjured up a picture of her mother and pressed her forehead to his. “Now, can you see it?”
There was silence, then: “Yes.”
Jordin pulled away. “You saw the picture?”
“Yes. Who is it?”
“My mother. So, it works both ways. Now let me see if I can send you a message without contact.”
She concentrated for a moment, and opened up her mind. “Can you hear it?”
“No.”
“What about now?”
“No.”
Jordin put all her focus on lowering the barrier. Suddenly she felt something break, and her mind seemed lighter. “How about now?”
“Yes. I can hear it.” Edward was looking a little embarrassed, and Jordin rolled her eyes. All I said was 'Thank you for your good advice'. It's not like I gave him some amazingly huge compliment!
Then a message appeared in her mind: 'You're welcome'. She smiled at Edward.
“I think we're getting the hang of it!”

Nadia turned the doorknob and peeked inside, then felt a little foolish. Jordin was at work, so it wasn't like she would come and yell at Nadia for looking around her room. Nadia pushed the door open. She didn't know what she was looking for, but there had to be something in here that would shed some light on her daughter's behaviour.
Looking at the bookshelf, she realised that she knew absolutely nothing about Jordin's free time. What did she read? What did she listen to? What did she do?
She took a pile of books from the shelf and sat on the bed, flipping through the titles. 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Little Women', 'Alice in Wonderland'. The books were dusty and obviously hadn't been read in a while.
The book at the bottom of the pile was different. It was plain black with no title, and Nadia opened it to find that it was a diary. She was about to start reading when she realised what she was doing. Reading her diary would make it seem like I don't trust her. I do trust her now, and I don't really want to invade on her privacy. She does have a secret, but she'll tell me in time. I don't need to read her diary to find out what it is.
Nadia stood up and the book at the top of the pile fell off the bed onto the floor. She knelt down to retrieve it and that's when she saw it. Under the bed, a piece of carpet had been cut away to reveal a wooden trapdoor.
She froze, staring at it. A trapdoor? she thought, Under Jordin's bed?
Suddenly she heard a noise- a bike coming up the driveway. Jordin was home!
Nadia quickly put the books back on the shelf, failing to notice the diary she left on the bed. Then she close the door and went into the kitchen.
Jordin entered the kitchen. “Mom, I'm home!”
She got a drink of water and then sat down at the bench, opposite her mother. “Mom, there's a bookshop across from where I work that needs help. The man who runs it needs some assistants to keep it going, because he can't always be there. I was thinking of taking the job. What do you think?”
Nadia shrugged. “Sure, I don't see why not.”
“Cool.” Jordin kissed her and went to her room. There was silence, then, “Mom, have you been in my room?”
Nadia nodded as Jordin appeared in the doorway with the diary. “Yes, I was just arranging your shelves. I must have forgotten to put that back. I didn't read it, if that's what you're worrying about.”
“Ok.” Jordin disappeared back into her room and Nadia stared uneasily at the door, trying to make a decision.

The garden was beautiful. Surely Jordin didn't do this? thought Nadia as she crawled out of the passage. She dusted herself off and looked around. So she's still coming here, despite my warning.
She walked around and heard a low murmuring of voices coming from around the back of the house. She's with someone.
* * * * *
Jordin held Edward's scissors up to his head and snipped off some hair, putting it in her pocket. “There,” she said, smiling, “Now I can plait it to make a friendship bracelet.”
Edward smiled then, and Jordin smiled back, frowning when she saw his expression changed from happy to fearful. “What?”
He seemed to shrink a little, pulling his arms close to his side and his legs to his chest, gazing at something behind her.
“What's wrong?” Jordin asked again, turning around. She went pale and stood up quickly. “Mom!”
Nadia stood staring at Edward, looking a little faint. “What's going on, Jordin? Who is that?”
“This is Edward. Edward, this is my mother. Mom, please don't freak out. He's safe. In fact, he's more scared of you than you are of him.”
Nadia leaned on the wall to steady herself and shook her head. “Jordin...”
“Mom, please don't make me leave!” Jordin burst out, grabbing her mother's arm, “I'm sorry for disobeying you, but I need to stay. I'm the only friend he has. You don't understand what it's like to not have friends. I do, and I can't stop coming to see him.”
Nadia smiled and straightened up. “I wasn't suggesting that you do. I was just a bit... thrown off, that's all. You know, I wouldn't mind getting to know him. Why don't you invite him over for dinner tonight?”
Jordin was dazed by this sudden development. “Maybe you should ask him yourself.”
Edward stood and Nadia approached him, smiling warmly. “What about it, Edward? Do you want to have dinner with us tonight?”
* * * * *
Jordin had been excited before, but now she was worried. While Nadia was in the kitchen, she stopped to warn her.
“Mom, be careful what you talk about, ok?”
“Ok.”
“Try not to say anything about the last time he was down here.”
“Don't worry, I won't.”
“And be careful that you don't...”
“Jordin, honey, stop worrying. It'll be fine.”
“What are you serving?”
“Chicken and veggies. It's all easy to pick up, so he shouldn't have any difficulty eating. Now, dinner's ready, so take this out to the table for me.”
The table was quiet. Jordin sat nervously picking at her food and watching Edward. Nadia gazed at him every once and a while with unabashed interest. And Edward, aware of the tense atmosphere, was trying his hardest to be invisible. His only comfort was that he could eat without embarrassing himself.
Nadia cleared her throat. “So, Edward, how old are you?”
“I don't know,” he whispered.
Nadia nodded, seeing his embarrassment. She decided to take a different approach.
“How did you and Jordin meet?”
This was possibly one of the worst questions she could have asked. Jordin choked and fixed her eyes a little fearfully on Edward, and he froze, not knowing how to answer. Nadia sensed their discomfort and her curiosity was heightened.
“She came up to the attic... and saw me. And she came back every day.”
Nadia turned questioningly to Jordin, who elaborated. “I went there a lot and never saw him, but one day he didn't hide well enough and I discovered him. He looked a little lonely so I visited him.”
Nadia nodded. “And how come you have a passage that leads up there?”
“Well, you see, the inventor who created him used to live here, and needed a discreet way of getting to his lab. So he dug a passage, right?”
Edward nodded conformation.
By this time everyone had finished, and Nadia and Jordin started clearing up. Edward took his plate to the sink and tried to help them, but Nadia shook her head and laughed.
“Oh Edward, honey, you don't need to help. You're a guest. Thanks for offering, anyway. Maybe you'd like to watch TV?”
He shook his head. “I will go now. Thank you.”
Nadia smiled and put her arm around him. “You're welcome. And you can come as often as you like. All friends are welcome here. Jordin, will you escort Edward home?”
Jordin was only too willing, and soon they were walking along in the darkness, following the thin torchlight.
After a lengthy silence, Jordin spoke. “I was wrong.”
Edward looked at her, confused.
“I was wrong,” she repeated. “I thought she'd freak out or something. I thought she'd be angry with me. But she didn't. It makes me wonder what else I've been wrong about. Thank you, by the way, for not telling her what happened. That's something I haven't told her yet and probably never will.”
He nodded and they travelled onwards in silence.

The bookshop was small and dark, and stocked from top to bottom with books of various size and thickness. Jordin rang the bell at the front counter and a short, old man appeared from behind one of the shelves.
“How can I help you?”
Jordin pointed to the sign outside the shop that read 'Help Wanted'. “I've come to see about the job.”
The old man took off his glasses, cleaned them, put them back on and peered at her short-sightedly. “I was going to take that down today.”
Jordin's heart sank. “You already have someone?”
“A young lad came in yesterday and I told him he can have it. But I don't know if he can do everything.”
“Maybe I could help him?”
The man scratched his head. “Begged me for the job, you know. Wants as much work as possible. Wouldn't tell me why. I don't know if he'll be interested in help, because it'll mean less pay for him.”
“What if I only worked weekend mornings?”
He held out his hand. “I'm not picky. You can help if you want to. I'll pay you forty for weekend morns. That all right?”
She shook his hand. “That's fine.”
“I'll see you on Saturday, then. My name's Sam, by the way. Old Sam.”
“See you then, Mr Sam.”
* * * * *
This had been going on for a month now. Every time she came in to work, the boy would be there, giving her dirty looks. Usually someone's bad temper wouldn't ruffle Jordin but she was puzzled as to what was causing his behaviour.
Edward and Nadia had basically given her the same advise: Talk to him. She doubted it would work.
They were both cleaning some shelves one morning when she decided to give it a go.
“So,” she began, “What's your name?”
“Dean,” was his growled out answer.
“And how old are you, Dean?”
“Sixteen.”
They were the same age! “Why are you working? Don't you like school?”
“Why would you care?” he burst out angrily. “It's got nothing to do with you!”
Jordin was silent. He has something worrying him, she thought. “I'm sorry.”
There was no response.
At the end of the morning, when she was getting ready to go, the boy approached her.
“I'm sorry for getting angry. I didn't mean to, but I've got a lot on my mind at the moment.”
Jordin smiled. “That's ok. So why are you working?”
“My sister. There's something wrong with her brain and the doctors don't know what it is. She can't talk much and she can't used her legs much. It's getting worse, and they estimate that she only has about a year or so to live, her brain cells are dying so rapidly. I can't just sit around and do nothing. I have to earn something.”
There were tears in his eyes and Jordin racked her brain for something to say. “Maybe I could visit her?”
Dean looked up in surprise. “She might like that. She hardly sees anyone any more. Here, I'll give you the address.”

Jordin got out of the car with Nadia made her way up the path. The door opened before they reached it, revealing someone who must have been the girl's mother. “Come in, she's waiting for you. She's so excited about having guests!”
Inside, they were ushered into a bright cheery room with a couch against the wall. Lying on the couch was a frail-looking girl who didn't look any older than fourteen or fifteen, whose eyes looked too big for her face. She smiled at Jordin and stretched her hand out, and Jordin took it. “Hello, uh... Dean's sister.”
“Rosie,” she said, laughing a little. Her mouth had trouble forming the word but this didn't seem to bother her.
“Hi, Rosie.” Jordin sat down next to her. “I'm Jordin. Dean told me about you, and I thought I'd visit you. How are you feeling?”
“Ok.”
“That's good. So, what do you like to do?”
Rosie thought for a moment. “R... Read.”
“What kind of books?”
Rosie held up a book.
“Oh, the classics. Do you have many?”
Rosie shook her head. “One.”
Jordin smiled. “I know where I can get heaps of books like that, if you want them. Would you like that?”
Rosie nodded.
“What else do you like to do?”
“M... make friends.”
Jordin suddenly had the feeling that Rosie was probing her mind. She let down the barrier and immediately got a message. 'Can you hear me?'
She sent one back. 'Yes, I hear you.'
Rosie opened her eyes even wider and gasped. Her mother immediately came running to her side.
“Rosie, I think you're tired. You better have a rest.”
Nadia nodded and stood up, and Rosie's mother smiled at them. “Thank you for coming. Maybe you could come again?”
“Yes, if you like.”
* * * * *
As soon as Jordin got home, she rushed to her room. “Mom, I'm just going to see Edward. I have something important to tell him. See you later.”
At the mansion, Edward was waiting for her. As soon as she got her breath, she spoke. “Edward, you will never believe what happened today. We went to visit the sick girl, like I told you, and when we were talking, she sent me a message! We have a connection! I was wondering, if there's something special binding the the three of us together, maybe I could bring her here to meet you.”
“Meet me? But she's a stranger.”
“I know, but she can't harm you. Of course, I'll visit her a bit more before I introduce you to her. What do you think?”
Edward considered it. “Ok.”
Jordin smiled. “Good.”

“I have some Jane Austin if you're interested,” Jordin said as she dumped the pile of books next to Rosie's lounge chair. Rosie, with difficulty, picked one up and looked at it with shining eyes.
“H...H...How much... H...”
“Send me a message. Obviously it's easier for you.”
Rosie concentrated. 'How much did these cost?'
'Nothing. I got them from a friend.'
'I can't believe that someone can actually hear me!'
'Have you been trying for a while?'
'Yes. I tried my mom, my brothers and my grandma, but no-one could hear me.'
'Tell me how you got this way.'
'Disabled? Last year, I was riding my bike around in the rain. The wheels slipped and I hurt my head. I woke up a month later and the doctors told me that my brain was dying. Nothing they did could stop it. No one knows what's going on- not even the specialists! So they sent me home to live my last days with my family. They say I won't live more than another year.'
'Is there anything I can do for you?'
'No. Well, yes. Keep coming to visit me.'
'I will.'
Jordin found it strange that there were no feelings coming from Rosie. No sadness, no sorrow, nothing. She was resigned to the fact that she was dying and nothing could stop it.
'Tell me about your life before the accident.'
'I didn't have much of a life. I was basically 'the outcast' at school. I just didn't fit in anywhere. I had no friends, I ate lunch alone. Boys pestered me but soon left me alone because I wasn't willing to give them what they wanted. It works out better, to be the way I am now.'
Jordin could hardly contain her excitement. 'Story of my life! I went through the exact same thing!'
Rosie smiled and reached for her, and Jordin took her hand.
At that moment, a car was heard in the driveway. The door opened and Jordin and the visitor gasped simultaneously.
“Hi, Mrs Rosewood.” Jordin said, a little bewildered.
“Jordin? What are you doing here?”
“I'm visiting Rosie.”
Kim hurried over to the girl on the couch. “How are you, dear?”
Rosie nodded and smiled, and Kim touched her face lovingly. Then she turned to Jordin.
“How do you know Rosie?”
“I met Dean at work, and he told me about her. I decided to visit her.”
“I see.”
Jordin tried to probe her, but Rosie was right, it didn't work. An idea began forming in her mind. Maybe we have this connection because we're all outcasts. I don't know what that has to do with it, but it's one thing that we all share.
Rosie's mother came in at that moment. “Time for you to go now, Jordin. Rosie needs a rest. Thank you for coming.”
Kim walked with Jordin to the door and waved to Nadia, who was waiting in the car.
“Mrs Rosewood, have you told Rosie about Edward?”
“Yes, when she was younger. Why?”
“Well, I was thinking, maybe she should meet him.”
Kim looked stricken. “Why?” she asked again.
“It's difficult to explain. All three of us have some sort of connection. First I discovered it with Edward, and then with Rosie. I think they should get acquainted.”
“I have nothing against it.”
“Good.”
They were outside the car now. Nadia wound down the window. “Hello, Kim! Fancy meeting you here. Is Rosie your granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“Kim, would you like to come over for dinner tonight?”
“I...”
“Mom, should we invite Edward over too? They do know each other.”
Kim paled. Nadia considered it. “I suppose so. That would be the third time this month.”
“He loves coming over.”
“Ok. How about six, Kim?”
Kim swallowed. “Yes. That's fine,” she heard herself say.

The doorbell rang, and Jordin ran to open the door. Kim stood on the doorstep.
“Where is he?”
“Inside, sitting at the table.”
“Jordin, wait,” Kim grabbed Jordin's arm, “Please, don't tell him who I am. I promised myself that I wouldn't go up there because I want him to remember me the way I was. That goes for now, too.”
Jordin nodded and they entered the house.
Edward was sitting at the table, cutting some paper that Jordin had given him. He looked up in surprise at Kim, who was fidgeting nervously.
“Edward, this is...um...”
“Kes,” Kim broke in, “Kes Rosewood. Pleased to meet you, Edward.”
“Edward, Mrs Rosewood was around when you last came down, so she's heard about you. She's joining us for dinner tonight.”
Kim sat down in the only available seat- next to Edward. She concentrated on her food and avoided looking at him as much as she could.
“So, how are you, Kes?” asked Nadia.
“I'm fine, thank you.”
There was silence. Jordin was sure she had never had a more tense dinner before.
A message came from Edward. 'Who is she? I have seen her before.'
'She's a friend. She's Rosie's grandmother. That's all I can tell you.' Before he could probe her, she put a up a barrier, feeling bad about it as she did so. The rest of the meal was a quiet affair, punctured only by Nadia's questions and Kim's answers.
Afterwards, as Jordin and Edward were getting ready to leave, Kim volunteered to go with them. Jordin was so surprised that she could only nod dumbly.
The passage seemed crowded and stuffy, and absolutely silent except for their footsteps. Jordin was relieved when they came to the end, and thankfully breathed in the cool night air.
Kim looked around the garden, the sculptures casting ghostly shadows in the moonlight. “It hasn't changed,” she whispered, turning to face the house. “Nothing has changed.”
“Would you like to go in?” Jordin asked.
“No.” Kim was still staring at the house. “No, I couldn't. I just...” She broke off and stepped back to the trapdoor. “I couldn't,” she said again, facing them this time, and disappeared down the hole.
Jordin turned to Edward and sighed. “Well, that was interesting.”
Edward nodded in agreement. “Thank you for dinner.”
Jordin smiled fondly at him and looked around. “Isn't the garden beautiful in the moonlight?”
He turned toward her and smiled back. “Yes.”
Jordin had a sudden fluttery feeling. Does he know how beautiful he looks in the moonlight? she wondered, but immediately tried to dismiss the thought. “Well, I'll see you tomorrow,” she said hurriedly, and then she was gone.

Kim was still there. Jordin could hear her talking to Nadia in the kitchen, and decided not to go out. Instead, she closed the trapdoor and started tidying her bookshelves.
The voices in the kitchen stopped, and the front door closed. Moments later, Nadia appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, mom.”
Nadia walked slowly over to the bed and sat down, trying and failing to appear casual. Jordin could see that she wanted to talk.
“Mom, just spit it out. What do you want to say?”
Nadia smiled. “You can see through me that easily, hey?” She sighed. “The facts of the matter are, I don't think you've told me everything yet.”
“About what?” Jordin asked innocently.
“You know what I'm talking about. Edward. I think you're still hiding something.”
Jordin sighed. “I haven't told you because I didn't think you'd understand. But if you want the truth...”
“I do.”
“All right. Edward and I... can read each other's minds.”
Nadia blinked. “What?”
“It's sort of like... emailing. I can send him pictures or messages and he can send them back. At first I had to be touching his head or something, but we developed it enough to do without contact.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, but that's not all. I thought it was just something weird to do with him, but I've just found out that Rosie can too.”
“Rosie? But isn't she...”
“Disabled, yes, but only in body. Her mind works perfectly.”
“This is all so strange,” Nadia mused, “But I've learnt to believe strange things. I must say I'm relieved.”
“Why? What did you expect?”
“Oh,” Nadia looked embarrassed. “I thought maybe you and Edward...um...”
“Were in a relationship?”
“Yes.”
Jordin suddenly found it difficult to handle the books. “We're not. But if we were, why would it trouble you?”
“Kim's been talking to me. She just wanted to caution you against doing anything rash. He's so innocent and naïve, and, well...”
Jordin was a little offended. “Mom! As if I would ever do anything to hurt him! There's no way I could corrupt him, you know that!”
“I know, I know, but...”
“Stop worrying, mom. Seriously.”
Nadia sighed and got up. “You're right. I know you wouldn't do anything wrong. I love you, Jordin.”
“I love you too, mom.”
* * * * *
Jordin lay on her bed. That talk with her mother had given her plenty to think about. But no matter what she started on, she always came back to the same picture: Edward's face bathed in moonlight.
For the first time since her grandmother's death, Jordin had the key to the door where she kept her deepest, darkest feelings. Even that time, up in the mansion, when she first heard that voice call out, hadn't unlocked that door, and now she was afraid to try. Afraid of what she might find there. Afraid... of herself.
Jordin got up and went to the window, her purple pyjamas contrasting, in the faint light of the moon, with the pitch black of the room.
She had noticed that lately, her heart started beating fast whenever Edward was near. She felt happy and comfortable, but at the same time, clumsy and self-conscious, in his presence. And sometimes, she even blushed, something she had never done before.
These feelings were stronger than they had been with Leon. But was she in love with him?
The mansion stood out against the stars, ghostly, shadowy... haunted. Haunted by a lost soul whose very innocence was beauty.
Jordin's questions were still unanswered as she climbed back into bed. The key was still in her grasp, but the door could wait. For now.

Someone was banging on the door, almost frantically. When Nadia opened it, Dean charged through the house and stumbled into Jordin's room. Without a word, he handed her a piece of paper.
Nadia followed him in, mouth open to protest, but stopped when she saw the blood drain out of Jordin's face.
“What? What is it?”
Jordin handed her the paper, mind reeling. With the feeling was a memory and a realisation that she should have known something was going to happen.
* * * * *
Rosie had been with them when it happened. It was maybe her ninth or tenth visit, and they were just talking in the attic when they heard the gate rattle. They all paused, waiting for it to happen again, and this time there was no mistaking it. Someone was trying to open the gate.
The three of them sat frozen like statues, while the gate slowly yielded. When Jordin had the nerve to look out the window, there was a man in the garden.
He was taking photos and writing on a clipboard. He circled the house and then came inside.
Jordin snapped into action. Even though the attic was full of sunlight, the corner was dark and shadowy. Jordin left Edward there with instructions not to make a sound.
Then she took Rosie on her back and tiptoed down the stairs. Halfway down, there was a small corridor with a few rooms. Hiding inside one, she waited for the man to pass into the attic.
He wasn't long. When he came down again, he glanced briefly at the open doorways of the seemingly empty rooms and left.
His exploration finished pretty quickly, and all three of them breathed a sigh of relief when it was over.
* * * * *
Now Jordin wondered why she hadn't guessed his purpose earlier. It was so much clearer now.
Nadia stared blankly at the paper. “How? Why?” she whispered, a look of shock on her face. That look was mirrored by Dean and Jordin.
Dean cleared his throat. “I don't know. I came back for my jacket and saw it pinned to the gate, which, by the way, is easily accessible now.”
Nadia gave it back to Jordin, who sat down numbly on her bed and dropped it underneath. “What are we going to do?” she heard herself ask.
No one answered. Jordin looked at Dean and Nadia. “Seriously. What are we going to do? What can't just let them do it. What would happen to Edward?”
“Ok,” said Nadia briskly, “We need to talk about this. I think everyone needs a drink. Coffee, anyone?”
Dean and Jordin followed her out, and the paper lay unheeded under the bed. It's bold, black letters were easily readable from anywhere:

Scheduled for Demolition.

“I expect you all know why you're here.”
The group gathered in Jordin's bedroom nodded.
“Now we have to decide what we're going to do. Ideas, anyone?”
“Can we ask them to rethink it? Complain? Protest?” asked Kim (who was still masquerading as 'Kes'). She sat as far as she could from Edward and tried to look inconspicuous.
“No good,” Jordin said, shaking her head, “It's too late for that. The date's been set and everything. And they'd want to know why.”
“We could... make it difficult to get up there,” suggested Dean.
“If they found they couldn't get up there, maybe they'd forget about it and go home!” Jordin snapped her fingers. “Great idea!”
“But you forget, they have bulldozers and trucks and stuff.” Dean looked downcast. “I don't know if it would work.”
“You guys.” Nadia held her hand up. “I think we should approach it a different way. I think we should plan what we'll do when it gets knocked down.”
“If,” Jordin corrected.
“Alright, if. Obviously Edward will come and live with us...”
“No.”
They all looked at Jordin and Kim in surprise.
“Don't get me wrong, mom. I'd love to have Edward stay with us, but...”
“He's already been down here once,” said Kim.
“And it turned into a disaster,” Jordin continued.
“Now, even if you keep him inside...”
“...the neighbours would find out eventually.”
“They always do.”
“So,” Jordin looked at her mother. “That's not going to work. Our best shot is trying to stop them from getting in.”
* * * * *
A week later...
The group stood in the garden, anxiously waiting for the sound of trucks. Both gates were jammed shut, tied with vines and padlocked at the top and bottom. All the way up, the driveway was strewn with small trees and rocks of different sizes. Jordin, Dean and Rosie believed that this would be enough to hold them off, but the two adults weren't too sure, and were still trying to work out what to do afterwards.
“Maybe we could build a small dwelling on the other side of the hill?” suggested Nadia.
“But we don't know how much of the hill these people want to use,” Kim pointed out.
“Well, could he live in the passage? Maybe we could dig out a room for him, like a basement.”
“Maybe. But you'd have to install lighting, and how would you get a bed down there? And another thing- would it be wise for him to be so near Jordin?”
“I guess not. Maybe we should move somewhere else, somewhere secluded...”
“Mom!” Nadia and Kim's conversation was cut short by a shout from Jordin.
“What is it?”
“I can hear trucks!”
Kim and Nadia hurried over and listened. There certainly were trucks at the bottom of the hill, and they had stopped. The drivers were probably trying to work out how to open the gates.
Jordin turned to Edward. “Edward, I don't know how long we'll be here. Could you please go get my bag? I think it's in the attic.”
Edward nodded faithfully and went inside.
The group waited in silence, wondering what would happen next. Next thing they heard was the beep beep beep of them backing up, then...

CRASH!

“They've broken through the gates!” Nadia shouted, “Come on, lets get back!”
“The driveway will slow them down, and maybe they won't have enough momentum to break through these ones,” Jordin argued.
“Jordin, there's nothing else we can do, so let's just go.”
Nadia opened the trapdoor, went down and helped Kim down, and Jordin and Dean helped Rosie down. Jordin was just descending when she remembered Edward.
“You go,” she said to Dean, “I've gotta go get Edward.”

He was just coming down the stairs. Jordin raced up and took her bag from him.
“Come on, we've got to go. We've failed- there's nothing we can do. The trucks are on their way up!”
Even as she spoke, she could hear them burst through the gate and congregate in the garden. She grabbed his arm and pulled him down the stairs, towards the front door.
Then time slowed down.
Jordin watched as part of the wall crumbled and started to fall, almost in slow motion. It was falling, falling, and she was frozen. She couldn't move; she couldn't scream.
Just before it fell on top of her, she was elbowed roughly aside. As she fell, there was a huge crash, and dust filled the air, making it impossible to see.
When it cleared, Jordin was lying on the ground. And Edward was under a pile of stone that used to be part of the wall. With a gasp, Jordin was pulling stones off him while trying to reassure herself that he'd be alright.
The sound of vehicles was much louder now. She could see them through the space where the wall used to be, but they hadn't spotted her yet.
The wrecking ball connected with the other half of the wall, adding more to the pile. Jordin snatched her hands back before they were hit, and turned to Edward.
Edward's head and shoulders were the only part of him she could see. His eyes were full of pain and pleading. “Go,” he whispered hoarsely, and Jordin could see that every word was an effort. “Go; you might get hurt.”
“No!” Desperately, Jordin started on the pile again, but a shower of wood and stone from the ceiling drove her back.
“Please go.”
Jordin tried to probe his mind, but found it to be blocked. Whether by pain or by him deliberately, she didn't know, but it made up her mind.
“I'm not leaving you,” she said, with tears in her eyes, and sat down firmly next to his head. She probed again and this time was able to get through, but she almost wished she hadn't. Pain, worse than anything she'd ever felt before, coursed through her body, especially in her stomach, making her feel like she just taken a great pummelling. The feeling stopped as Edward blocked her again. This time she, knew why he was doing it- to spare her any of his pain.
The horrifying truth was dawning on her. She would never get him out, and the blows had most likely done a lot of damage to him. There was nothing she could do.
Suddenly there was a shout. Jordin drew Edward's head into her lap and cradled it there protectively.
More shouting. Moments later, the engines were turned off. In the sudden quiet, she could hear a man's voice.
“Hey! Hey, you! Get out! What are you doing?”
Jordin didn't answer. The man started to pick his way through the rubble towards her.
“Young lady, this house is going to be demolished. The roof will cave in soon. You need to...” He trailed off as he caught sight of Edward. “Oh, no.” He scrambled over to her, and she looked up at him, tears making rivulets in the dust on her face.
“I don't think he's going to survive. Please, just let me be with him.”
The man nodded, remorse and horror written all over his face. “I'll hold them up for you,” he said, and made his way back to the trucks.
Jordin wept over Edward's head, cursing herself over and over.
“Please, don't cry. It's not your fault.”
Jordin caressed his face, drying her tears for the moment. “Yes it is. I sent you back for my bag.”
“But you didn't know.”
“Oh, Edward!” The tears were flowing again. “You taught me so much. What am I going to do without you?”
“Keep going,” he whispered.
“I can't!”
“Yes, you can.” His eyes never left hers. “I know you can.”
The world had stopped. Nothing mattered but Edward, and soon he would be gone. She clutched him closer. “Don't go. Please, don't go! I...”
The door was opening. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she wanted to say.
“Edward, I... I...” Jordin choked on her words. “I...”
The connection was fading. She had to make it fast. Putting her lips close to his ear, she whispered three little words, the only words that meant anything to her now. They locked eyes.
He was smiling, the biggest smile that she had ever seen from him. That smile was enough invitation.
As their lips met, Jordin was filled with joy and despair, love and hate, wonder and sadness. And he returned the kiss, making it last as long as possible before the time came for them to say goodbye forever.
Then the kiss broke. The connection faded altogether. And the world started spinning again.

Jordin stood back as the team of wreckers cleared the rubble and pulled the body out. They didn't say anything about his hands, or asked what the two of them were doing there in the first place. They had already dug the hole, so all they had to do was lower him in.
“We'll put up a tombstone when the work is done, ok, missy?”
Jordin nodded without seeing.
“We're truly sorry about what happened.”
Jordin nodded again and turned to leave. “I live in the house nearest to the hill. Please come to me when you're putting up the tombstone.”
The men agreed.
Jordin exited through the busted gates and stumbled down the hill. She felt light-headed and dizzy, and unable to accept anything.
The front door was unlocked and she found everyone, minus Dean, in her room, gazing worriedly down the hole. At that moment Dean climbed out.
“I couldn't open the...” he started, but stopped when he saw Jordin. Everyone else gasped at the state of her.
“Where's Edward?” The question was asked by all of them at once. Tears ran down Rosie's cheeks as she probed Jordin and was the first to find out.
“They started demolishing it while we were still inside.” Jordin crossed the room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted. “A wall fell on him. He didn't make it.”
Nadia gasped and tears filled her eyes.
Kim turned an unearthly shade of pale and quickly left.
Dean held Rosie tight as she sobbed uncontrollably.
And Jordin's heart was overflowing, but her eyes refused to produce any tears.
* * * * *
Jordin stood at the window, letting the early morning sunlight warm her shoulders. She could hear the wreckers on the top of the hill. A breeze ruffled the curtains, and birds chirped brightly. The world seemed so... ordinary, after everything that happened the day before.
She closed her eyes and began to sing.
Why does the sun go on shining
Why does the sea rush to shore
Don't they know it's the end of the world
'Cause you can't love me any more

Why do the birds go on singing
Why do the stars glow above
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when I lost your love.

A rogue tear escaped down her cheek, but she smiled.

I wake up in the morning and I wonder
Why everything's the same as it was
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does

Why does my heart go on beating
Why do these eyes of mine cry
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye.

Jordin looked over at her bedside table and picked up the bracelet of plaited hair that was lying on top of her diary.

Why does my heart go on beating
Why do these eyes of mine cry
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye.

She set the bracelet back on the table. No matter what she did, she knew that she'd never forget Edward. That the world would keep spinning without him. He had had faith in her, that she'd keep going, keep living, and she wanted to make him happy. Proud. Even if he wasn't there.
She would keep going. Because it wasn't the end. It was still the beginning.

Two white tombstones stood near each other in the graveyard. Two figures stood in front of them.
The boy was tall, about eighteen. The girl was also eighteen. She held a bouquet of red, pink and white roses.
Dean took the flowers and kneeled in front on the grave nearest to him.
“Rosie always loved the red ones,” he murmured, picking out the red roses and placing them on the grave with reverence.
Jordin extracted the pinks and placed them on the other one. “I don't know what Kim liked, but pink seems practical.”
They stood and departed on their bikes, heading towards a hill at the end of a certain street. The gates stood open, and the pair rode through.
At the top of the hill was a small cafe and spaces for cars to park. The tops of many trees had been cut down, framing a pretty view of suburbia. But Jordin wasn't in the mood for a view.
To one side of the car park was a little clearing, where a third tombstone was standing. The pair made their way over and Jordin deposited the white dwarf roses at the base. Then she kneeled down in front of it and closed her eyes.
“You can go now, Dean. I'll be here for a while.”
Dean nodded and left, the way always had for the last two years when they came to visit the grave.
Jordin didn't know how long she sat there. Was she mourning? Maybe. Perhaps she was remembering a time when the parking lot was a garden and the cafe was a mansion. Perhaps she was remembering a beautiful face, framed in moonlight. But after a while, she stood up, took one last look at the engraved tombstone, and left. Through the gates and down the sun-speckled driveway. Towards home.