You have odd dreams that night.
At first, you don’t even dream at all. At least, not that you can remember.
Then you have good dreams. Dreams about snow and flying, dreams filled with wondrous adventure and things straight out of a storybook. You find yourself skating once again on the beautiful lake, alone save for the trees and snow.
But then you hear a crack.
Your dream-self screams as you fall into the ice-cold water. You try to swim back up to the surface, but find yourself only sinking further into its dark depths, the subzero water paralyzing you. You can’t hold your breath any longer. Your chest feels like it is collapsing on itself. Bubbles escape from your mouth as your lungs make a fruitless effort in their search for oxygen.
You hear Pitch’s low, dry laughter surround you.
Your vision is getting blurry. You still try to hold your breath to prevent more water from making its way into your lungs, hoping that maybe, just maybe, something will happen and you will find your way back to the surface. You feel something brush up against you on your left. You turn your head to see what it is.
But wait…no. It can’t be. He looks too different.
Sure, he’s wearing the same clothes as the Jack Frost that you know. The cloak, the long shirt, the vest and pants. But there are no ice swirls anywhere on them. On top of that, his hair is a completely different color. It isn’t the usual snow-white. No…it’s brown, matching his eyebrows instead of contrasting them. His skin is different too. It’s extremely pale. Paler than even what you’re used to, blue tinting every inch, the color deep and concentrated in his slightly parted lips, fingers, and toes. His eyes are closed, his arms and legs limp in the water.
Your eyes get wider. You mistakenly gasp, inhaling more water.
“Jack?!” you try to say, but no sound comes out, only a few last bubbles. You shake his arm. If you can just get him to wake up. Maybe together the two of you can escape the imminent. But you know that it’s already far too late.
The last of your energy has been spent. By a will not your own, you take in a few more breaths of icy water. You have no feeling anywhere in your body.
The last thing you see before your vision goes black is the full, bright moon shining through the hole in the ice.
You sit up suddenly in your bed, beads of cold sweat dotting your forehead. You’re breathing hard, holding the edges of your blankets so tightly that your knuckles are white. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute.I…I’m alive,
you think to yourself, your breathing becoming more regular. You bring your knees up to your chest and hold your legs, resting your chin on your kneecaps. It was just a bad dream. A..a nightmare…
You close your eyes to shake off the memory of Pitch. You won’t be scared.
You look over at your clock.
3:28 a.m., it reads.
You lay back down, facing the window. Your draw your blankets close around you, wrapping yourself in the security that they provide.
The moon peeks out from behind a rogue cloud, illuminating your room in a soft nighttime light.
It has an instant calming effect on you.
Your eyelids become heavy once again.
You fall asleep to the moon’s unsung lullaby, waiting for the first light of day.
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