I've had this idea running around in my head for a while now, and this is what I came up with.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.

Warning: this deals with attempted suicide and depression.

The world was white, completely blanketed by snow like icing on a cake. Footsteps couldn't be heard, only the sound of crunching snow under people's feet. Throughout the day the streets were littered with giggling and shrieking children, but at night they were mostly empty, only populated by snowflakes falling like tiny acrobats. Some roads had tyre tracks in them from drivers who were brave enough to venture out in their cars, while others, mainly the country roads and cul-de-sacs, had signs of built snowmen and snowball fights. It was the perfect winter day. I'd say it was beautiful but I lost my concept of beauty a long time ago.

The clothes I was wearing I'd worn the day before: a red, knitted, loose-fit Christmas jumper adorned with white snowflakes and reindeer; a black pleated, knee-length skirt with an elasticated waistline; a plain grey beanie covering my unkempt dark hair; cream, opaque knitted tights and leather, lace-up ankle boots. I didn't go home last night so I didn't get chance to change. I'd wandered the streets all night, nobody knew where I was but I doubted anyone cared. It snowed all night, too, strangely enough. It didn't stop once which gave me a sense of companionship.

The sun had long since set and the streets were quickly emptying. Every person I passed I stared at for a couple of moments, though hardly any of them looked back, and if they did they glanced away just as fast. Did I appear as bad as I felt? One smile –that was all I asked for. One smile and I'd turn around and go home, rather than heading for Brooklyn Bridge. I even walked slowly to buy some more time, maybe I'd bump into some more people, and maybe one of them would smile.

I reached the bridge sooner than I expected and it was deserted. By this point I almost ran to the middle, where I grasped hold of the metal fence and peered over it. It was a long way down. I exhaled deeply, before taking one last glance over my shoulder. Empty.

With slippery shoes I slowly ascended onto the top of the fence, placing a hand onto the limestone column to steady myself. The wind whipped around me, blowing my hair and snowflakes in front of my face. I looked across the water to the lights of New York City and actually found myself smiling. If I had to see a certain sight before I died, I was glad it was New York.

The smile quickly disappeared and tears sprung to my eyes. I'd tried numerous times to write a note, I at least owed the folks at the home an explanation, but I couldn't put into words the amount of pain I was feeling and how badly I wanted it to disappear.

"Should you really be standing up there?" A somewhat deep voice behind me asked suddenly. I shut my eyes tightly and refused to turn around. I wanted a smile, not a lecture. When I didn't reply he spoke again, more to himself than me, "I hope she isn't doing what I think she's doing."

I opened my eyes at this and turned to glare at whoever it was over my shoulder, surprised by how he was closer than I expected. "And what do you think I'm doing?" I spat. My anger faltered a little as I took in the boy's appearance.

He was young, around seventeen or eighteen. His eyes, which had widened at my voice, were a piercing light blue; a slightly lighter blue framed his pupil in the almost unnoticeable shape of a snowflake. He had pale white skin that seemed completely smooth and flawless, his face was sprinkled with very light freckles and he had thin light pink lips that were almost white, set into a confused frown. His eyebrows were brown, a completely different colour to his spiked hair which was white as freshly-fallen snow. His face was a slight oval shape, complete with a sharp jaw.

His clothes were odd; he was more underdressed for the weather than I was. His long, thin legs were clad in brown pants that cut off mid-shin, the edges tattered and torn. On his torso he was wearing a dark blue hooded sweater with icy frost crawling up the sleeves and interwoven through the fabric at the shoulders and chest. In his right hand he was holding a long stick similar to a shepherd's crook, but frost coated it partly where he touched it. The thing I found most odd was that he was completely barefoot in the snow and didn't seem at all fazed by it.

"Wait," he said, allowing me to hear the rasp in his voice again. "You can see me?" Was he drunk? I really didn't have time for this.

"Of course I can," I replied quickly and turned away from him. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."

"Why? So you can throw yourself off a bridge without any witnesses?" He questioned, sounding a little frustrated. My head snapped back in his direction and my heart started to beat harder.

"You don't know anything about me," I snapped, more tears spilling from my eyes hotter and faster.

He took a step forward which caused me to shift a little on the fence. I noticed his face drop and what seemed to be fear flash in his eyes. "You're right, I don't," he said. "My name's Jack. What's yours?" An icy wind blew at my face and I realised I couldn't feel my nose.

I eyed this Jack carefully for a few moments, before sighing and saying, "Viola. My name's Viola."

"Viola," he mused and inched forward a little, this time I didn't move. "That's a pretty name. Tell me, Viola, why do you want to do this?"

"Why should I tell you?" I countered. "I don't know you."

"Exactly. Isn't it much easier to tell a stranger why you want to die, than your family or friends?"

I stared at him for a few moments, puzzled by his presence. Maybe I was hallucinating. Either way, he had a point. What would it matter if a stranger knew my reasoning? He had no emotional attachment to me. All he knew was my name and that I was ready to jump off of Brooklyn Bridge.

"Nobody cares about me," I heard myself whisper. I studied the snowy floor beneath me, not wanting to look at Jack to see his reaction.

"Someone must do," he said softly, moving even closer. "Not even your parents?"

I shook my head quickly and my tears started to blur my vision. "I don't have any. I live in a care home."

"Well I'm sure someone there cares about you?"

"Not since I was declared 'unadoptable'." I lifted my eyes to finally look at Jack, he was frowning and his eyes were glistening as if he was on the verge of tears, but he furrowed his eyebrows and gripped his stick tightly as if anger was building up inside of him. "And before you ask, I don't have any friends either. Nobody wants to be friends with the orphan."

"You don't deserve to be treated like that," Jack's voice was barely audible and his eyes met mine.

I shrugged. "Helped me to realise how worthless I am though."

He suddenly got a very dangerous glint in his eye. "Don't say that." He averted his gaze and I noticed he was breathing heavily through his nose. "They're the worthless ones for making you feel that way."

Seeing him so worked up over my stupid problems caused me to feel unbelievable guilt and anger. I'd only just met him and I was hurting him. "I don't need this. You don't need this." I edged further forward so only my heels were on the iron bar, behind me I heard Jack's breath catch.

"How old are you, Viola? Seventeen? Eighteen? However old you are, you're young. You have a whole life ahead of you."

An uncontrollable sob ripped its way out of my throat at Jack's words. "I just feel so alone!" I whimpered. He stepped up beside me and held a hand out. I eyed it briefly, then turned my attention to his face. His eyes were screaming for me to trust him. "Jack… I'm scared."

Something flickered across his face. Was it surprise? He seemed to have been reminded of a memory that was buried rather deep. "I know, I know. But you have me now." He spoke ever so softly once returning to reality. I glanced back at the water that was so far below me, then again at Jack. "You have to believe in me." And he smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. He smiled.

"Okay," I whispered. I grabbed his outstretched hand and embarked on lowering myself from the fence.

"Slowly, it's okay," Jack was encouraging. "I got you." When I was safely on the ground again, I immediately threw myself at Jack and clung to his neck. He slowly sank to the floor, hugging me back just as tightly and cradling my head, allowing me to cry into his chest.

We sat there in the snow for what felt like hours while I sobbed my heart out, Jack remained silent save for the occasions he would shush me gently, and rocked me back and forth as he stroked my hair tenderly. Once I was all cried out he pulled me into his arms, holding me bridal style as he stood up and began walking. I was too exhausted to complain or argue, so I just rested my head against his chest and said almost inaudibly, "thank you." Then the rhythmic beating of his heart lulled me to sleep.

I have a kind of idea where I want to go with this. I don't know how often updates will be but I'll try my best.