This is a new story, and it would mean SO much if you reviewed. Thank you (:
I didn't know what to think when I first met Jack. He was...different. He wasn't a normal kind of guy. Although at first I didn't have any romantic feelings for him, it's hard to stay - and I quote - 'just friends' with Jack.
It was tough, when I first met him. My first love, Eugene (or Flynn, as you may have known him), was murdered only months before. You see, I had found out the truth about my past, I had discovered that I was the lost princess. So Gothel tied me up, chained my wrists together. When Flynn came to rescue me, she stabbed him in the stomach and left me to watch him die. She had destroyed a love that had been pure. Purer than I could ever imagine back then.
After Eugene died, I sunk into a deep depression. Scars formed on my wrists, and my long blonde hair grew pale. I knew that my 'mother' was growing frantic, as the dark thoughts within my head were weakening my hair's powers.
Now that I knew the truth, Gothel had imprisoned me further. Not wanting me to be strong enough to escape, she fed me just enough to keep me from starving, but I was always weak, and the cuts kept extending up my pale arms. The rest of summer and fall were a living hell.
Then winter came.
I still remember sitting at the window watching the first snow. Remembering my childhood dreams and wishing they were still just as real to me, looking at the bloody scrapes up and down my arms. The snowflakes were falling quite gently, slightly uncommon for the area I live in.
Then I heard a voice.
"Hello?" it whispered. It was soft, but sure. Half in surprise and half in terror, I grabbed the frying pan I always keep close to me. Ever since Eugene's death, paranoia has controlled my brain.
"Woah! Woah! Woah! Don't swing that thing. Please."
"Show yourself or I'll smack the shit out of you."
"Calm down. Please. I see your scars."
That just alarmed me even more. "SHOW YOURSELF!"
"I am showing myself. You just can't see me."
"AND WHY NOT, WISE-ASS?"
"You don't believe in me."
That shut me up. My emerald eyes narrowed, confused. "What are you saying?"
"I'm Jack Frost."
I stood there for a second.
"What kind of IDIOT do you take me for?"
All of a sudden, I felt a draft. Chills were surrounding me, I was in a tornado of icy wind. I almost screamed as I saw frost creeping its way across the edges of my dress. "STOP IT!" I yelled.
Then I looked up. And with an ear-splitting crash, the frying pan clattered to the floor.
There was a boy there, with eyes bluer than any I had ever seen.
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