"But..." I trailed off, almost refusing to believe him. "You can't be. Why would- Ezra and I were friends." My voice broke pitifully on the word 'friends.'
Ezra- no, the Spirit Eater laughed at my heartbreak.
"You were oh so obsessed with your memories, Jack. But do you want to see mine?"
"No!" I shouted as I backed away from him "You're lying! You're just telling me whatever will hurt me most. You can't be Ezra."
"But I can prove it," the Spirit Eater said as he slunk toward me. His form began to change, melting away into something... human. Into Ezra. He was just as I remembered him. Taller than me, with blonde hair and freckled skin. But he wore a look I'd never seen on Ezra's face before. Disgust.
I was so distracted by his shapeshifting, that I hadn't realized he was reaching his arm out to grab mine until it was too late. The Spirit Eater in Ezra's form yanked up my sleeve and began to press violently into one of my scars.
Before I could cry out in pain a light flashed behind my eyes and I was suddenly somewhere completely different.
"Do you remember this day?" sneered Ezra's voice in my head.
A dark, snow covered forest sprawled in front of me. But I wasn't me, I was Ezra. I could see myself goofing off around a fire pit with the other village kids.
"Ezra!" An angry voice from behind startled me and I turned around. I didn't have much time to process the face of the voice due to a swift and powerful slap to my left cheek. I fell to the ground and tasted blood as I looked up at my assailant. Ezra's father.
Just as soon as the stinging pain of the slap had come, it was replaced with my current surroundings, as Jack Frost. Until Ezra pressed into another scar.
A new flash of light, a new flash of pain, again and again, all the while my past self didn't notice a thing.
"Jack, I think I need to tell you something," Ezra's voice came out of my mouth and surrounded my ears. I was merely a passenger in his body, rewatching what he'd lived; what he'd felt.
"That you're an absolute klutz? Yeah, I know already. I swear you have a new bruise everyday," my past self laughed.
"No, um. It's about my dad."
"Oh, okay I'm listening," past Jack said, picking up on the seriousness in my friend's voice.
"Well, I don't know since your dad isn't around but I just wanted to know if it was normal for him to-"
"Jack, mom said it's time to come inside now!" My sister shouted from the doorway of our humble home. "Ezra can come in too if he wants," she added.
"Did you want to come over?" Past Jack asked.
"No, my dad told me not to. I just really wanted to ask-"
"I'm sorry, I really have to go inside my mom gets worried if I stay outside in the cold too long. But, is your dad okay?" Past Jack stood up and offered me a hand.
I didn't take it. Opting to instead let the burning pain of using my bruised legs steel my resolve. "Can't you just spare one moment?"
"Jackson Overland!" Shouted my mother. "Come inside this instant."
"No, I'm really sorry Ezra. But you can tell me tomorrow!"
As I watched myself run towards my house, I realized there was a burning feeling rising up. It was only made stronger as I saw my mother ruffle my hair kindly and smile. Resentment. Jealousy. Anger. I tried to reason with myself that it wasn't past Jack's fault, he had no idea, but in the end I couldn't convince myself that past me couldn't have done more.
