HEY GUYS! AS SOME OF YOU KNOW, THIS IS A REWITE OF MY OTHER STORY. AT THE MOMENT, THIS STORY IS UNBETAED, BUT IT WILL BE IN THE FUTURE. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IN THE REVIEWS.
Jack was different. A bad different.
He wasn't like the mortals, obviously. They had short, usually painful lives whist he had been around for about 300 years now, and compared to the other spirits, that was still relatively young. But that wasn't what bugged Jack.
It could be due to him being a seasonal spirit. They were getting rare these days due to the loss of believers that came with the 21st century and the modern sciences and technology that can with the time. Nowadays, there were only four main spirits and the sprites that helped them deliver the seasons around the world. But that didn't really bother Jack.
One could argue that being a spirit child was the difference to Jack's awkwardness around the spirits. He was, as for as he could tell, the only spirit that was at the physical age of 14-15 (no one really knew what age his body was presently at, much to Jack's disappointment). But that wasn't the problem. It was the cold.
Not the normal cold that came with the winter and the darker months of the year. That sort of cold, Jack liked. He liked the snowballs, the snowmen, he loved frost and the ice (not ice-skating, for some reason, nor swimming took his fancy as a past time hobby. Jack never knew why). All of that kind of coldness, Jack like.
No, the problem were the shadows.
He could travel all over the world using them, an all he had to do was step into one and think of his destination. It had been great to begin with, for to him, it was just all a big game and a laugh. But as the time went past, very quickly for those who don't die and don't have much to fear, the game had lost its fun and the laughing had stopped. It didn't compare to the wind, for she had played back with him whist she took him to his next location, tossing him high into the sky and catching him as he fell, almost missing to make it more fun and unpredictable. The shadows weren't like that that. They were cold, a different cold compared to the ice and frost and snow that Jack knew so well.
He felt as if he should know what it feels like, and he should know what the shadows and the darkness and the fear that came with it was like. But it all seemed to be missing. As if it was there, right in front of his face, but just out of his reach. However, unlike with the snow and the frost and the ice, he felt more at home with the shadows and the dark and the fear. He felt more connected with what was hidden from view than the frosty days that children enjoyed. But he never knew why.
There was another type of cold that Jack had gotten used to in his 300 years' experience as a spirit. It was the cold look that the other spirits sent him, not all of them, but most of them. They didn't like the cold. It was the same look that the adults gave the snow and other things that bothered their day to day business, for not everyone like the snow as he did, in fact, most people hated the cold. It brought death to those who were too old or too weak to survive through. They hated the cold wind that bit their exposed skin and went right through the ten layers that they're wearing and straight through their soul. Jack didn't blame them for their hate.
But hate was still hate, and that hurts people, especially as young as Jack was. Over time, maybe, it would turn into bitterness and something much, much worse. But right now, Jack was still young, so he found other ways to let out his anger and sadness of being ignored and hated by others of his kind. Acting like a teenage boy.
This path earned him his, quite famous, reputation as a joker, as the naughty spirit. It was alright for people like April Fools or All Hallows Eve to do it because that's their holiday; but not for Jack Frost. He wasn't supposed to be joking around and pulling pranks, but killing people with his ice powers and not giving a sod about it. Good thing they didn't know about the shadow bit, or they'll have his head.
There are several spirits that he would willingly spend time with, and that was with the rest of the seasonals. There was April Showers, Spirit of Spring; Juno Summers; Spirit of Summer and Apple Falls, Spirit of Autumn. There was also Gaia, also known as Mother Nature. She was the 'Mother' of the lot, being the eldest by 1000's of years. Their little family, however, did not involve her father Pitch Black.
Jack knew lots about Pitch Black, the monster under the bed, bane of the Guardians, giving nightmares to children. Jack found nothing wrong with nightmares, for how do you know what was good without knowing what was bad? He had followed Pitch on some occasions, it was a game he liked to play. Jack found that he and Pitch were similar like that. Both could use shadows; Jack hoped the likes ended there.
It had been 50 years since he had seen the man, and about 15 since he had talked to someone who could talk back. He had yelled at the moon a lot, talked to the wind almost every hour and to the children who didn't even know he existed, let alone knew that he was talking to them. He had stopped meeting up with the seasonals on the meeting days due to the fact that global warming was not going to help itself, nor were the humans going to drop everything that they were doing to make sure that their planet was being looked after. Humans were such short-sighted creatures after all, and they didn't really care for the future of the grandchildren they are yet to have. As long as they are all right, it doesn't matter what is to happen in the long term future.
Well, maybe not for them, but Jack didn't like the idea of not having a planet to look after in 200 years' time. So, until the humans sort their act together and sort out the world they're living on, Jack isn't going to get too much of a break. Much to Jack's surprise, he found that, maybe, he didn't mind it so much compared with when he was first born. It beat all those cold stares that he got from people he was so alike, yet so different, from.
Better be alone than be bullied for who he was.