Why Me?

part 4

I could hardly see him walking away. All I knew was that i was dizzy. That's such a funny word. Diiiiiiiizzy. Yeah, I ran into this tree pretty hard.

"Are you okay?" Another mysterious voice came out of the trees. Only this one seemed.... accented. Different than what I was used to.

"Who is asking this time?" I attempted to stand up, and slid back down the tree with a gasp.

"I am not surprised that you do not recognize my voice. Many think that I have an American accent."

"I'm fine. Just give me a second, then I will kick your butt too." I was running on sheer hope that he had not seen the conversation. I was trying to decide whether he was good or evil. If he was good, maybe he could help me get to a hospital. Wait. No one could see me. Change of plan. Maybe he could help me figure out if anything was broken or not. If he was evil, I would have to stand up and fight. Which I was not in the best of shape to do. So, whether he was good or evil, I had to stand up and look like I was just a little shaken up. Which maybe I was. I, once again, tried to stand up. I got about half way before he started to talk again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. There's no point. You will only fall back down because of the pain. Would you like some help?"

"Would you like to tell me who you are?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I am, as you know me, Santa Claus."

"Prove it."

"Why? Do you not believe me?"

"I'm sorry, but the first person that has seen me was evil. I'm having a hard time trying to believe everything someone says." With that, I saw Santa Claus for the first time. He was not what I had expected. He had tattoes on his arms, saying "Naughty" and "Nice." He wore about what I expected, which was a large brick red coat and bright red pants. He did not have the hat, which was surprising. But what was I to say surprising that night? I had just found out he had a strong accent. This Santa did not look jolly, but concerned. That had always been one of my specialties. Noticing what people were feeling.

"Do you believe me now?"

"Yes." And I really did. I was hoping that he wasn't Pitch just in a different form.

"Are you sure you will be okay?"

This is the Santa that I had always loved. He was compassionate, and I instantly trusted him. "No. Or at least I don't think so. Did you see the whole thing?"

"Unfortunately, no. If I had, I would have come and stopped him from hurting you. I just saw that he was here, so I came. Wondering what he could be here for." Santa started to move toward me, in a shockingly graceful manner. "I'm going to take you back to the Pole. See what I can do for you...?"

"Emma Frost."

"Emma Frost." He repeated my name. I was falling in and out of consciousness. I had a feeling that if I fell asleep, I would not wake up. I had just found out what my name was.

"Try to keep me awake?"

"How did you find out who you were? Tell me about yourself."

"I don't want to answer questions. I don't have enough energy."

And with that, Santa went into a long and interesting lecture about fact and fiction.