Jarida Drabbles

Frozen in time

I've been around for a long time. My name is Jack Frost. Perhaps you've heard of me? If not, you must've at least seen my handiwork over the past few thousand years... the frosty spiderwebs that crawl around the edges of your window, the lace of ice that wraps around your scarf and makes you shiver, the frozen pond where you could've sworn you saw a shadow dancing upon late at night. Yup. That's all me. For all of eternity I've been doing the same old thing, living a never-ending winter that is as cold and dark as my heart. I don't know when or how I began to breathe. I just know that I can never belong anywhere. Being a guardian involves too much responsibility, and I'm just too different to live among humans. I am an immortal being with no purpose but to create an empty, white void.

When winter comes, it's beauty is a short lived illusion. The first fall appears magical and supernatural in a sense, but as soon as it sets in it only proves to destroy all life in it's path. The leaves die off so the trees can sustain themselves. The animals hibernate to keep their body temperatures vital. The creatures of air fly to where the sky is warm and bright. The humans wrap themselves up tight when they leave their homes just enough to stay alive. This season is just a terrible and necessary stage in the circle of life. Death. The circle never changes, and so, my life never does. At least, that's what I thought until she changed my life forever.

I was skating around the coast of Scotland one especially dark winter night when I just happened to see a bright light shining from the top of a tower, part of the majestic DunBroch castle that I'd come to admire since it's construction centuries ago. I had never seen any of the towers lit up so late since a feud between the clans long ago that almost broke out into a full out war. My curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to check it out. I leaped over the stone fence that surrounded the castle, stood at the base of the vastly tall tower and looked up towards the light, listening closely. It flickered and crackled and popped. Fire. Getting to close to something so hot weakens my powers, and makes it impossible to fly. I was about to walk away before I heard something else. It was as faint as a whisper, but somehow I could make it out. Crying. It wasn't one sniffle, but rather a silent sob, pleading for help. Normally I couldn't care less if someone was crying, but this cry pulled me in deeper and closer. I couldn't deny it's plead. So, I grabbed a hold of one of the long, green vines that snaked it's way around the massive bricks and climbed upward.

Every time my hands grasped a new vine, the area that I touched would grow cold and dead. When my feet climbed the wall, it would add a new layer of frost on the solid rock within a six inch radius of the contact my foot made with it. I expected to feel weaker as I got closer to the fire light, but as the cry became louder in my ears, it only made me stronger and more determined to reach the window than ever before. My heart began to race and my limbs began to climb faster than my brain initially ordered them to. I was beginning to feel like I had another purpose in life, a new drive to inspire me. When I finally pulled my head up over the windowsill, the very essence of inspiration was staring back at me.

She had fiery red hair that seemed to flow like the summer wind and fill the room with a warm red glow. Her skin was as smooth as glass and glowed a beautiful ember-orange in the firelight coming from the mantle. Her eyes were the biggest mystery of life I have ever encountered. They were as big and as blue as a clear sky, and they were brimming with tears of sadness and regret, yet somewhere underneath the pain and the tears I could see fire. Not from the room, but from within. A burning, passionate spirit that yearned to be free. A spirit that I realized I had within myself, but had died out over time. Those, two blue eyes that stared back into mine rekindled my flame, and I found myself entranced in her beauty. She was absolutely stunning. I could hardly speak.

After we stared at each other for what felt like eternity, she finally wiped her eyes and said softly, "Who are you?" Even her voice was beautiful with her thick, native accent. I forced myself to snap out of my trance. It was then that I realized I had been hanging by my hands and chin for quite a while, so I pulled myself up and sat sideways on the sill with one foot in front of me and one foot in the room, with her face to my left. She was sitting at the foot of her bed. I turned once again to her irresistible, sky blue eyes and spoke much more confidently than I felt, "Jack Frost."