I stayed up all night gazing at the moon, waiting for them to appear. Alas, nothing happened. Could they be possibly ignoring me because it took me long to actually believe in them? Or was it simply because I didn't believe enough for them to appear? I curled my hair as I begin to doubt. Then I remembered my mom's story. She didn't believe just for the sake of them to appear, she believed because she wanted to.
So, I got out of my bed with a long face, realizing that they will never appear to me because maybe I think I believe in them but deep down, I don't. I murmured some harsh words about myself, regretting that I never actually believed in them. "Geez, why didn't you just believe in them already?" or "I'm such an idiot."
I went downstairs, grabbed some cereal. I noticed that my parents are still asleep, but I couldn't care less, I was hungry, and annoyed. Although I still couldn't help but think if it was just my mom, playing a prank on me. I shrugged it off, and started moving on. Forget about everything. But I just couldn't.
I then munched on the cereal slowly, cherishing each bite because I never get to do this on a school day. I was as slow as a tiny pebble being blown by wind. Somehow, them not appearing was sort of the cause of how I react. I have gotten slow. Whenever my dad tells hilarious jokes, I would laugh, but I'd just smile instead, and believe me, whenever my dad tells jokes, it's hard for you not to laugh. No, you don't just laugh, you laugh so hard you get teary-eyed.
It took me an hour and a half to finish my shower. I didn't even get to use the shampoo because as I was about to get it, my mom busted the door open, thinking I might've commited suicide. It bothered me for a week. Although whenever my mom gets the chance to tell more stories about them, I get super excited and glad while listening to it. I spent the whole weekend just picturing what my mom's adventures would look like. It was fun. Then,
it was Monday, again.
School was pretty much of a blur for me. I wasn't a loner, but I refused to hang out with my friends that day and just spent my breaks at the library daydreaming, and if it weren't breaks, I'd be in class, still daydreaming. Sometimes I'd rather sleep than wake up because I get to dream about them. It's kind of a weird habit I did as a child. My mom got worried about me and sent me to therapy(I did not tell her why I was acting weird so she has no clue about it). The therapist said I was normal, it was just that my "right part of the brain was bigger than the left part of the brain." Way back then, I didn't understand what she meant. So I got scared, I thought I was going to die, so I cried.
Weeks after finishing that horrendous amounts of therapy sessions, I tried it once again.
It was still nighttime, and it was full moon. The moon was glowing, it was beautiful. Back before when I never believed in them, I believed that there lived a man there, on the moon. He would guard and watch all of us at night. Keep us from harm. He would predict everything, and he would call out certain people and give them missions. I don't know what kind of missions, I couldn't remember. He would be there to shine his light so that nobody would get lost in the dark.
And I believed him truly. I believed him more than them, actually. He was there to guide me everynight. He serves as my nightlight when I sleep. I only get bad dreams when the curtains are closed and the Moon isn't showing. That only happens when my mom comes into my room and sees the Moon so clearly; she's afraid that someone might just grabbed me and never bring me back.
I got a piece of paper, wrote something on it, and sticked it on the window; I couldn't just say it out loud or else my mother would just think I'm crazy again and flush her money down the toilet and send me to countless therapy sessions.
I believe in you. Please give me proof that you exist.
That was written on the paper. To be honest, I had better handwriting than the one who wrote the "Believe in me..."
I was waiting, doing all sorts of stuff to keep me awake and from boredom. Suddenly I heard a knock on my window, it's more of accidentally hitting the window with your hand sort of thing. I opened the window, the wind was cold, winter was coming. It was the 5th of October. I checked on both sides of the house, to see if there was a culprit or somebody else. Alas, there was no one there.
I noticed that the paper I wrote on was gone, it could've been blown away by the strong forceful wind.
So I closed the window, and sighed. Yet, another failed attempt. "Gosh, you're such an idiot, you knew they wouldn't appear so stop trying!" I murmured to myself again.
"Who's an idiot?" Someone spoke.
I got chills in my spine. I turned around and saw no one. That made me freak out! But I stopped myself from squealing to prevent waking up mom.
So I ignored whoever that was and head to my bed. I was facing the door, which is at the opposite side of my bed so I had to turn around to get to my bed. As I turn around, I see this boy, floating in front of me. We were only 5 inches apart, so I could hear him breathe. I was about to scream when he covered my mouth. How rude! His hands were so pale my teeth shivered.
After I was able to get my "cool" back, he removed his hands. "Wh-who are you?" I asked, my teeth were still shivering. He showed a confused look and chuckled. I had to shush him while he was chuckling because boy, he sure chuckles like a horse!
"You don't know who I am?" I nodded. "Yet you can see me?" He continued and kept laughing. So HE was the one who wrote that paper! But who is he?I grabbed my mom's drawing of them and tried analyzing, searching for similarities between her drawings and him.
He wasn't short and yellow, he was tall and pale. He wasn't fat and he didn't have a beard, he was skinny and his facial features are nowhere to be found. He isn't a girl and definitely had no wings. He isn't a bunny either. He was wearing mahogany pants and a blue pullover hoodie. Could he just be a magical hobo?
Then I remembered something. I remembered my mom saying that she couldn't draw the other one even though she hung out with him all the time.
Could he be Jack Frost?
"Jack Frost?" I uttered.
He stared at me as I say his name, his eyes grew wider and he smiled from cheek to cheek. "You know my name?" He giggled and got relieved. He is Jack Frost. I got so happy I kept repeating his name over and over again. He joined me as well and it sounded like we were chanting.
I heard my mom call my name and we both freezed. He freezed, literally. As he was about to leave, I grabbed his hoodie tightly and it choked him so he fell on the wooden floor, which must've hurt a lot.
"Please come back?" I lifted my pinky. I was afraid of not seeing him again. He massaged his head and lifted his pinky as well. "Do not worry, I will come back."
We shared a pinky promise and he left by flying away. Leaving a trail of tiny snowflakes in my room. This was the first time I've ever felt "happy."
My mom opened the door with a spare key and saw me, smiling at the trail of snowflakes, with the window open. She smiled as well. I hope that she doesn't know that I can finally see him. "Oh, so it has started to snow?" She raised an eyebrow while smiling. "Uh, y-yeah." I fake laughed while closing the window. "Well that's a good thing! I love the snow! Hope the streets are filled with it by tomorrow! That would sure be a delightful thing to look at. Sleep, darling. You have school tomorrow." She kisses me goodnight and turns off the light and closes the door. The window was still open so I kept staring at it, with a huge smile on my face.
I couldn't care less if this was a dream or not, because I felt everything. I felt the paleness of his hand, the joy in his heart, and the joy in mine as well. If this was a dream, then I sure hope I wouldn't ever wake up again.
