I don't just hate Edward Cullen, I hate the entire Twilight series. Not just on its own non-merits (what little I've read of the books was enough to make me suffer a relapse of my pyromaniacal tendencies), but because of what it does to teenage girls, particularly my sister--and, as a consequence, what it has done to me.
I had the great misfortune to be at a Borders on the night of the release of the final book. Before this, Twilight was a non-entity to me: I was vaguely aware of its existence, and knew that it was some kind of chick literature. Anyway, I was at Borders to drop off my sister for the release event, where she was meeting her friends, and I decided that I might as well stay and browse around for a bit.
Near the magazines section, there was a large cluster of people, mostly teenage girls, in the center of which were two girls with microphones, saying things that didn't make sense to me, and whose every statement was followed by a squeal from the crowd. I asked a passersby what was going on, and she enthusiastically told me that it was a debate about whether Isabel would choose Edward or Jacob. My response to her excitement was a confused "Huh?" Needless to say, this did not pique my interest, so I went away to the sci-fi section and tried to ignore the screaming of the crowd.
As it grew closer to midnight, I half-noticed that the place was steadily growing more crowded with teenage girls, a good number of whom were dressed up as characters from the book. My rabid-fangirl danger sense was fully alert now, but the books overpowered my urge to leave.
By 11:58, the place was packed wall-to-wall with girls, and I realized that I had been a fool not to leave earlier, when I had had the chance. There was now absolutely no way out from where I was, but I tried to push through the crowd nonetheless. Finally, I heard an announcer somewhere begin a countdown, which caused me to inwardly groan with despair and outwardly brace for impact.
I ducked my head and covered my ears, and when the countdown reached zero...it was like a sonic detonator had gone off in the place. After a few seconds, though, the screaming was replaced by a dull, distant roar. I lifted my head and looked around, only to see that the girls were still screaming--but I could barely hear them! I snapped my hands next to my ears to be sure, and there was no doubting that I had gone almost completely deaf.
I got outside as quickly as I could (which still took five minutes or so), and by then my hearing had partially returned. To this day I'm sure that my hearing isn't quite as sharp as it was before than night.
