Here comes goodbye,
Here comes the last time,
Here comes the start of every sleepless night,
The first of every tear I'm gonna cry.
The wind carried Jack Frost back to his beloved frozen pond in Burgess which he had called home for more than 300 years.
The winter spirit was happy- smiling and humming a tune that even he didn't know of. The belief of children had made him happier and he could feel that same tingling bright sensation ghosting over his bones, pulling a smile to his face as he recalled the epic snowball fight he had with the children in Burgess.
A sudden flapping noise made him stop in his tracks and his sunny disposition fell as he clutched his glowing wooden staff closer to him.
Despite his hesitation, the wind- his dearest friend- seemed relentless in pushing him in forward, making the winter spirit glance at his invisible but pushy companion with unease.
"What is it?" he whispered and the breeze tugged him to a thicket of pine trees, where the flapping noise increased in volume.
Now Jack was truly scared as he ventured towards the silhouette of a pine tree which had a strange loose object pinned to it, kind of like…
A Slenderman note.
He shook his head vehemently.
I have got to stop playing those kinds of video games with Jamie late at night; he chastised himself as he slowly edged to the piece of paper attached to that pine tree.
Suddenly, as if wanting Jack to find what it was, the Moon illuminated that part of the forest and Jack gasped when he saw what was written on that piece of paper.
In loving memory of Jackson Overland.
It then had an arrow pointed down to the base of the tree.
Jack decided to ignore that arrow for the time being as he gingerly took the note in his hands, being careful not to crumple it as it looked old with age.
The surface of the note was strange, crinkly and course, as if it was made from… Plastic?
With a jolt, Jack realized that the note was covered with plastic and it made sense that whoever left it here would try to protect it as best as they could from the raging elements of nature.
Glancing down at where the arrow was pointing, the winter spirit scrutinized the floor of the forest beside by the pine tree but it was bare. He even got down on his knees and started shifting through the leaves that had gathered but was only met with barren, frozen soil.
Maybe it's hidden underground? Jack wondered as he then started using his own hands and immortal powers to defrost the ground and at the same time, shovel through the now pliant dirt.
His hands then suddenly brushed against something wooden as he jerked his pale digits away from that bizarre object immediately.
Jack then tried searching around the forest, seeing if anybody was around who could have prepared that note and buried something underground.
But he knew it was stupid and futile. There was nobody in this part of the forest except for him.
Jack Frost didn't believe in ghosts, or scary apparitions of the sorts but he did believe in spirits. In fact, he knew of a few deadly spirits from his own immortal world but they would have no purpose to venture into a cold, dark forest with a shimmering frozen pond smack dab in the middle.
No, Jack didn't believe in those sorts of things- but he would be hard press to admit that he didn't feel slightly creeped out by the scenario before him.
Breathing in deeply, Jack decided to uncover the secret of the hidden note in this part of the forest where no one would go as he pushed aside the final specks of dirt covering what looked to be a…
Wooden box.
Jack sucked in a sharp breath as he creaked open the lid with little to no resistance.
Inside the wooden box were what appeared to be... Letters?
A mass of yellowing pages so old they looked as if they could disintegrate just from breathing on it.
Jack gingerly pulled out the first letter and his eyes widened.
17 December 1712
Dear Jack,
I still feel guilty. Immense guilt, whichever you would want to choose though knowing you, you'd probably choose the former. Momma suggested I should write my feelings down and I decided to write you a letter- every year on your death anniversary- to find some peace of mind.
But I just don't want to find peace of mind. I want to find your forgiveness. Forgive me, Jack.
If it wasn't for me, you would still be alive. I don't know if you would be happy of it was me instead, but at least you would still be alive.
The physician told me that I should stop the grieving process by now. It's been almost 2 months.
But I can't. Nothing is the same without you, Jack. I miss you.
17 December 1713
Dear Jack,
You would be 19 next week. Momma told me that. She's sick with pneumonia and papa is at his wits end. I've taken it upon myself to help the villagers clean their houses just to earn extra coins, but things are tough too.
If you were here, you would have told me to lighten up and give me your trademark mischievous grin that didn't quite reach your eyes.
I miss that smile.
But most of all, I miss you. I wish you'd come back, Jack. I really do.
17 December 1714
Dear Jack,
So much has changed during these two years. First off, almost everyone we know has grown up and you remember Lucy? Yeah, squirrel hair Lucy? Well, she's 19 now and grew her hair out.
I knew you always had a crush on her and tried to hide it behind merciless teasing.
You were mean and I could see why. You were fighting it- just as I'm fighting the tears that threaten to fall when I'm writing this.
Momma got better and papa still calls your name in his sleep.
Love you, Jack. I hope you really are happy wherever you are.
16 December 1715
Dear Jack,
This year hasn't been as tough as the last. The economy is really turning around. People from our village have gone to work in bigger towns.
Papa asked me if I wanted to go too, but I told him I wanted to stay here, to take care of him and momma.
Momma's sickness has been progressively worsening since last year and the village doctor is worried she wouldn't last till the next.
I'm not blaming you, but your death had made her- all of us- really sad and I know you would hate me for saying this- but I still wished it was me.
You would have made a better hunter, a better bread winner, but me?
Well, I'm just me.
17 December 1716
Dear Jack,
Another year, another winter.
I remembered how much you loved winter. You were always so calm when it snows.
Like the time when you got a really bad scolding from papa and you fled into the woods, I was honestly terrified of the mess I would find when I got to you, but no- you were serenely watching the snow fall with a sad smile.
That was the most calmest I've ever seen you.
I still miss you Jack. 4 years is nothing on a lifetime of good memories with you.
16 December 1717
Dear Jack,
I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth in my last letter. It was just too hard.
Momma passed away.
She died peacefully in her sleep and I woke to find papa, kneeling by her side with her hand in his.
It was heartbreaking Jack, seeing him cry like that.
And it wasn't even a few years since we lost you.
Please comfort momma in heaven, Jack- tell her we miss her.
Tell her I love her and to wait for me.
18 December 1718
Dear Jack,
Papa's been feeling slightly better- I saw him humming a tune while walking back from tending the sheep.
Guess what? I met someone.
Yes, it's a boy and I know you'd probably start teasing me about how all guys are the same but hear me out.
He's kind, mischievous, caring and so very compassionate.
Just like you.
You wanna know his name? It's Michael.
17 December 1719
Dear Jack,
How the years have passed by. I'm now engage, Jack.
I wished you were there to see how happy I was. Even papa couldn't stop smiling because he likes Michael and his family.
He was a very good friend too, you remember?
The both of you would always play in the snow and once again, you would look calmer and more relaxed in that winter wonderland.
And your laughter- it could literally attract moths to it, just like a light for that's how bright it shone.
I miss that laugh, Jack and I miss you.
You will always be missed.
19 December 1720
Dear Jack,
I'm sorry I sent this letter a few days too late, but I had a very good reason.
Guess what?
Well, brother, you're about to become an uncle!
Yes, I just found out that piece of news days ago so I'm still shocked.
If you were around, that kid would have the best uncle ever. I knew he or she would.
Despite all your questionable actions in taking care of younger kids, you do love them, I can tell.
It's just the way your smile becomes softer or the way your brown eyes always seemed a bit warmer.
That is one of the reasons and the other is that, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.
I know you always thought that nobody would remember your birthday, but I beg to differ.
Every single year, most of the villagers would come by here to light a few candles in memory of you, Jack.
See? You are never forgotten.
17 December 1721
Dear Jack,
It's almost been 9 years and not a single day goes by without me thinking of you- missing you.
Papa, too, passed away from old age. But I think it was more broken hearted-ness than anything else.
I miss him too, I honestly do, but at least he managed to carry Dean (your nephew) before he went off.
Dean is… He's wonderful. Perfect. He has my dark brown hair but Michael's blue eyes so you can picture how adorable he truly is.
I might be bias in the fact that he is my son, but he is utter perfection.
You would be so very happy to see him. He must've inherited your cheekiness because neither Michael nor I have that kind of zest to run around after him.
He tries to run though and it's honestly really adorable but he just keeps falling half of the time.
I'm really glad though, that at least something of yours lives in him.
Makes the ache of missing you lighten slightly.
18 December 1822
Dear Jack,
10 years have passed and I'm guessing this is my last letter.
Don't take it the wrong way, brother, I still do miss you and love you, but I've decided to tell of your life legacies to someone else who can actually remember and not just on paper.
Dean and his little baby sister who's on her way.
You wouldn't believe it if I told you but Dean actually looks up to you. He says you're the best uncle he ever has- and he hasn't even met you.
He's smart, caring and kind, just like his uncle and I wouldn't have it any other way.
You'll always be remembered Jack, even no matter how many times you used to think you were forgettable.
For your 10th death anniversary, I took my family to this very same pond where we lighted some candles in memory of you, momma and papa.
I miss all of you.
I really do hope you are all in a better place where I can meet you someday and be your 'Little Adventuress' all over again.
Till then, this is farewell I guess.
Oh, and before I go, I just wanted to tell you something.
It's snowing here again.
After reading those letters, Jack Frost was stunned into sorrowful silence.