I Jumped Down The Stairs Behind Me

Edward Scissorhands, written by Tim Burton, tells the tale of a young man who is lovable, childlike and sensitive, bewildered by the humanity around him, yet is terrifying- someone who has scissors, the deadly weaponry, for hands. Many viewers may read this film as a “Tim Burton” type of fairytale which includes both an alternative aspect and romance. However, through the presentation of mise-en-scene in this film, Burton drives in a much more serious subject of social criticism by establishing two different understandings of life in the movie.

The film’s introduction paints the small town in pastel tones, perfectly mowed lawns, where the women spend their days as housewives and the men are off at work, a simple yet perfect depiction of a 1950’s American dream. In contrast to Edward’s isolated, gothic castle, the epitome portrayal of the archetypal ‘other’. Although the positive and negative connotations, respectively, of these appearances poorly describe those who actually inhabit them. Behind the mask of a perfect suburban life lies repressed drives, explosive cruelty, and a threat, while under black leather and sharp blades is a boy whose scissors hurt himself more than anyone else. A prominent instances of this is Joyce, a sexually seductive manipulating woman, with her toe curling orgasmic experience of Edward cutting her hair, to her sexual assault on him, her sexual desires arise, something typically looked negatively on by conservative societies. Edward's hair cutting skills also ignites similar response from other women as well. This leads to the exploitation of Edward and his abilities, his talents in cutting stylish hairstyles and artistic garden hedges are objects of praise almost immediately after he is brought into the ‘normal’ world. At first Edward and the town come to see his scissorhands as a creative gift, although the initial pleasure from his deformity quickly turns into an abuse of his body, asking Edward for favours here and there, for which he is later repaid for with an angry, witch hunt like mob chase. Edward’s gift becomes once again a curse, proving that once the circus like allure of something strange and ‘other’ wears away the elitist society will remind itself that it does not fit into their system. Although suburbia feels a threat from anything different to the norm, itself is a threat

“I don’t know and I don’t want to stay and find out, let’s go.” He said in a moaning voice.

The anticipation of this day had been building up for some time over that last few months, and now it was upon me at last. I didn’t feel the same excitement I had leading up to this moment, I even kind of grumbled to myself about how I wished the bus was bigger so that I would be more comfortable. We all had our assigned seats, but no one seemed to be where they were supposed to be. The anxiousness of getting to Colorado was causing a great deal of confusion, chaos, and

My knees shivered as I walked up the huge steps onto the bus. Millions of things were running through my mind; I was nervous. There was a loud chatter throughout the bus, but it wasn’t normal chatter. Everyone was on a light edge as we were all more than aware about what we were about to face. The bus pulled up into a familiar area. Elsternwick was busy and the sun was bright. I personally am always in Elsternwick and I never knew the museum was

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” When I knew I was l alone I ran all over town looking for the source of the snow. I finally found it at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. I waited a couple of seconds before saying something but before I could, someone spoke.

“Then how do you explain all the things that still happen to them now?” Savannah then asked me now sounding implacable.

“Not until you tell me what happened,” June then demanded, digging in her heels like she’s done ever since we were children. “I want to know what’s going on.”

We were silent. Our eyes didn’t leave the board as the piece jerked back to the beginning. To A. Then stopped. We waited for the piece to point out the next letter, but it remained still. After three minutes, Rachel and Claire withdrew their hands. I felt them watching me. “It wants you to ask something,” Rachel said softly. “If by ‘it’ you mean Claire, I’m sure that’s true.” I stood up, shaking and nauseous. I was done. “I didn’t push it,” Claire said, wide-eyed as she looked at Rachel, then at me. “Pinky swear?” I asked, with sarcasm. “Why not,” Claire answered, with malice. She stood and walked closer to me. Too close. Her green eyes were dangerous. “I didn’t push it,” she said again. “It wants you to play.” Rachel grabbed my hand and pulled herself up off the floor. She looked straight at Claire. “I believe you,” she said, “but let’s do something else?” “Like what?” Claire’s voice was flat, and I stared right back at her, unflinching. Here we go. “We can watch The Blair Witch Project.” Claire’s favorite, naturally. “How about it?” Rachel’s voice was tentative, but firm. I tore my eyes away from Claire’s and nodded, managing a smile. Claire did the same. Rachel relaxed, but I didn’t. For her sake, though, I tried to swallow my anger and unease as we settled in to watch the movie. Rachel popped in the DVD and blew out the candles. Six months later, they were both

I sat by myself in the second seat behind the bus driver. It had been raining all day and we rambled along slowly, splashing the sides of the bus with dirt and mud, with each puddle we drove through. A large puddle, almost a lake, comes view. We slow down easing toward the pond. “Are we going around?” I shout up at the bus driver. Our driver glances in the mirror at our at anxious faces, and a smile slowly spreads up his face.

“Oh yeah. Do you really want to know what you did wrong?” Don mysteriously asked.

With Anna and Elena’s limos pulling up to the school daily, seeing another one wasn’t as big of an attention getter as it once was. Something was suspicious about how quickly the new teacher’s relationship has suddenly manifested itself. Not only that. from the moment the new boyfriend appeared, she never got within several feet of Norman ever again. Oh, but when he had called her over to look over his work and she asked one of the students next to her to bring his work to her, it was obvious what was going on.

Riding the bus home to my grandma’s house. I looked through the papers that Mrs. Garcia had given me. Being cut off from my thoughts by loud and rambunctious crowd of rude children, the bus stopped. “Oh crap, I’m at the bus stop!” I thought. Hurryingly, I shoved all the papers back into my book bag, grabbed my jacket and purse, and bailed off the bus. “Whew, that was too close!” I thought.

"Left at the next stop light, and I never said you were, I just don't want this to take longer than it has too, and this way you can learn how i work in situations." Claire bit her bottom lip, how long had it been since she had to ask someone question outside of work? She only had to type the question and answers into the computer and look up information, she never really dealt with the actual victim, criminal, or anyone else involved for that matter.

Gripping the top of the seat in front of her, she had to get off the bus. “S-stop the bus,” rising to her feet, she inched her way along the aisle as people shunted across seats to get as far away from her as possible. “Let me off here.”