A.N. Hey all. So, normally I can accept flames. I look for the underlying complaints, and ignore the rest. Not this time. Review if you want, favourite it if you want. Just please, don't flame what is supposed to be a written tribute for a horrible tragedy.
It had been one month. One moth since the shooting that devastated the world. One man with a gun, twenty children, six teachers—a horrifying death toll. North sighed in sorrowful remembrance as he recalled the sickening feeling of watching so many lights go out in just a brief moment—not just the lights of the dead, but the lights of the witnesses who would never recover. He had called the other Guardians immediately. They had all been shocked and devastated, but none more so than Jack Frost. He was the only Guardian who could have personally stopped the massacre—by creating a snow day, by calling a blizzard to stop the gunman. The other Guardians had tried to reassure him, tried to comfort him, but it hadn't worked. And now Jack was missing.
Jack hadn't gone missing right away, of course. The other Guardians had been there for him, trying to comfort him and help him to cope. And he had faked it well. Within a few weeks he was back to racing Baby Tooth and freezing Bunny's feet to the floor. But North had seen the shadows in his eyes that he could not hide. And then, just a week earlier, he had gone. The others were less anxious, convinced that his disappearance meant only that he was creating snow somewhere or preparing for a blizzard. But North knew otherwise. North went looking for Jack.
—Page Break—
North shivered as he made his way into the cave that Jack often used as a headquarters. He rarely stayed there, preferring to be racing around the world and having fun. But when he needed to rest, he came to his old home-town of Burgess and rested in a cave by the lake. Jack had insisted that it felt freer than living in a normal house, but North always feared that it was just a by-product of his 300 years of solitude, when he never had a home. North cursed as he stubbed his toes on a protrusion of the rock floor. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom—and gasped.
They were about four feet tall, and placed on rocky pedistals. Twenty six snowflakes, each more delicately carved than the Guardian of Wonder could ever hope to produce. Each was completely unique, completely flawless. Each had a name inscribed on the bottom. And at the center of each snowflake was the face of the victim it represented—child and adult. North reached out a hand, but drew back, afraid to touch it.
"It's alright, you know," a voice sounded from the dark. North whirled in shock, only to sag in relief as he saw Jack staring at the sculptures. The Guardian of Fun looked relatively healthy, although clearly tired. But his eyes—his eyes had no mischievous spark, no warning of coming trouble (of the fun kind). His eyes were quiet, dark—serious.
"It took me a week to perfect them," the Winter Spirit continued. "They won't melt, they won't shatter, they won't get dirty. They'll stay here forever—a silent memorial." North had no words. All he could do was reach forward to touch the younger spirit's shoulder. They stood there together—two world-weary friends, silently paying tribute to those who had died before their time.
Please, pay your respects to those who died at the Sandy Hook Massacre—
Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06
Daniel Barden, 9/25/05
Rachel Davino, 7/17/83
Olivia Engel, 7/18/06
Josephine Gay, 12/11/05
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06
Dylan Hockley, 3/8/06
Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/65
Madeleine F. Hsu, 7/10/06
Catherine V. Hubbard, 6/08/06
Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05
Jesse Lewis, 6/30/06
James Mattioli , 3/22/06
Grace McDonnell, 12/04/05
Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60
Emilie Parker, 5/12/06
Jack Pinto, 5/06/06
Noah Pozner, 11/20/06
Caroline Previdi, 9/07/06
Jessica Rekos, 5/10/06
Avielle Richman, 10/17/06
Lauren Rousseau, 6/1982 (full date of birth not specified)
Mary Sherlach, 2/11/56
Victoria Soto, 11/04/85
Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06
Allison N. Wyatt, 7/03/06,