Hello! This story will contain an OC and mainly Jack Frost, along with a character death. It is a (an?) one shot, but if I feel like it is going very well and I have nothing better to do, I'll add more chapters! (Aka Bonus chapters!)
The story is based in a town around 15 miles north of Burgess, called Hatton. It's relatively the same size, I just wanted to use a different town because of the plot, okay? And it doesn't exist okay okay this is just for the fic. Thanks!
Summary: Alex is a depressed self-harmer who will do anything to keep others out of danger, no matter what, or who. Today is the day where her promises are made and fulfilled – but with a price.
Trigger warning: Self-harm, suicide, and school shootings.
Inspired by the song When I'm Gone by Eminem.
There were screams all around along with blue and red lights. They all surrounded Alex, digging into her eardrums, blinding her despite that everything was blurry, in slow motion. Pain engulfed her body, from head to toe. Someone had rolled her over, shaking her. She felt something wet on her face, and someone was looming over her. The woman appeared to be screaming, but Alex couldn't hear her. It was as if she was . . . muffled, or put on mute. The woman was crying on her, Alex realized. She hugged Alex, and Alex could make out only a few words.
"Alex . . .don't be gone . . . come back . . ."
Gone?
Another person moved lifted Alex, pain shooting throughout her body once more. She moaned as the person set her down onto a stretcher. Her body shifted as they placed her into the ambulance. She could make out a few more words, as she heard the people speak.
". . . her father . . . no . . . possibly . . ."
Was she dying? Was she possibly dead? Did her own loving father kill her?!
It seemed as if time skipped ahead, and she once more realized that she was now in a hospital. She was moving quickly on the stretcher, as people shouted people to move out of the way. Alex couldn't keep up with everything, all the drama surrounding her. Before she knew it, everything was black and silent. Only a phrase was heard.
"Height: 5'7". Weight: 176lbs. Age: 17. Date of birth: December 23th, 1995. Date of death: April 24th, 2012. Cause of death: School shooting by own brother."
Alex shot up on her bed, gasping for air. Her body was slick with sweat, her short hair stuck to her face. Her comforter was sprawled over the bed and floor, along with her pillow. She put her face in her hands, trying to calm herself down from another nightmare. She fell back on her bed, back of her hand on her forehead.
Another nightmare . . . when will they end?
After 30 minutes of yelling mentally at herself to just get out of the fucking bed and deep breaths, she got out of bed. The clock read 6:30A.M. She went down the hallway and into her bathroom. Closing the door, and locking it, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her inky black hair was everywhere. It reminded her of a birds' nest. Her dark brown eyes looked tired. Scars littered her thighs and hips, while her arms remained smooth and fresh.
She looked disgusting.
Alex turned on the shower, letting it warm up. Taking off her tank top and pajama bottoms, she got in and bathed herself. Humming a random tune and finishing up with herself, she turned off the shower and got out, drying herself off and wrapping her short, boyish hair into a towel bun. She brushed her teeth, along with flossing and mouthwash.
What if my nightmare comes to life?
She left the bathroom with her towels and back into her room, picking out her outfit. She put on some undergarments, addition to spandex. Alex put on a pair of Andi basketball shorts, with a band t-shirt. Sliding on a pair of tall black socks, she put on her basketball shoes and went back to the bathroom. She stared at herself once again in the mirror.
It was as if that mirror hated her more than herself.
Alex opened the cabinet to dig out her make-up bag that just contained a tube of mascara, face wash, and her green colored contacts. She also grabbed a black wash cloth. She dampened the cloth and wet her face, later to scrub the supplement onto her face. After waiting and washing it off, she applied a little bit of mascara, and popped in her green contacts. Then she smiled.
That smile is so ugly . . . yet I can't stop smiling in the mornings.
She dug through her bag, digging a little deeper. She felt the cool metal blade, and took it out. She hated the blade, but loved the feeling she gave herself when she hurt herself intentionally. Alex set it down, and grabbed some band-aides. She sat on the toilet seat, and pulled down her shorts and spandex. Grabbing the black washcloth, she set it aside and held the blade in the palm of her hand. She put the blade between her fingertips, and brought it down to her scarred thighs.
She pressed down on her skin and quickly across her thigh. Alex repeated the motion over and over again in different areas on her thigh, and she finally came to realization that she had to stop before it got serious. She knew you couldn't die of blood loss from your thighs unless you got a serious wound, but it's a bitch to clean up and bandage.
Why must I always go too far?
Grabbing the black cloth, she pressed it onto her bloody thigh and put pressure onto it. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. She felt a cool draft come into the bathroom, but paid no attention to it. After so much pressure and cleaning up, she bandaged it and slid back on her spandex and shorts.
She quickly brushed her hair and swept it to the side reasonably, and left the bathroom, going down the hallway. Entering into the empty kitchen, she noticed there was a note on the table.
"Dear Alexius,
I'm gone for the week with your father on a business trip. You know the routine, just bear with this last trip. I'll be home for the next two weeks, along with your father. Please keep safe. Stay strong please. Don't do anything drastic. Give me a call if anything,
Love you to the moon and back,
Mom"
Alex shook her head. Alexius? Her mom hasn't called her that since she was in elementary school. And why does she suddenly care as if Alex is the only thing on her mind? She brushed it off and threw the yellow sticky note in the trash. Putting a sweatshirt on, she grabbed her backpack, slinging it over both of her shoulders, smiled at her younger sister in a framed photo, and left the house, a smile on her face.
Today will be great. That nightmare is nothing.
She walked down the street and down a few blocks, arriving at school. The cold was a bit of a bother, since she didn't know what to expect, but whatever. Walking in, she walked to her locker, ignoring all the noise. People came over to her and smiled, talking to her and asking her how her weekend was. She smiled and went along with it, her happiness already draining and her smiling becoming more fake after each laugh. She could feel the darkness eating her away.
The day was long, despite that Alex was only in third period of eight different classes. Why was she even hoping and thinking today was going to be good? Only one thought clouded her dark mind.
If only that dream was real.
Snow pillowed up in the town of Hatton. Jack Frost himself was out and about within the town, exploring areas besides Burgess. He flew high above the city, watching as buses stopped at the school and unloaded kids. Other students walked there, or drove themselves. He watched the kids like he did in Burgess and in other towns. Learned things about them, like he did with Jamie. Of course, most of the kids in the world haven't even heard of him, but that didn't stop him from giving them fun days and snow days.
Flying through the air by wind, Jack flew down to the ground and left frost on the ground with ice. Seeing kids pelt each other with crude snowballs made him chuckle, but he noticed something odd.
Someone was wearing shorts during the cold weather Jack had brought to the town.
Walking closer to the person, he noticed it was someone similar. He flew in front of them, keeping a good pace to not allow them to walk through him. Jack looked closer, only to notice it was the same girl he saw this morning.
The same girl who was intentionally cutting her thighs.
Jack's eyes opened up wide while the thought hit him. Her fake green eyes looked right into his, as if she could actually see him. He stopped, but then she walked through him as if he was nothing. The coldness of her passing through him hurt him mentally, but he knew that a teenager like her wouldn't believe in Guardians like himself or the Easter Bunny. He turned around and watched as she walked into the school.
If only she believed, he could do something.
The dream was real.
It was coming true.
Screams and sirens were all you could hear.
Moans filled up any empty silence.
The scene played out almost identical like her dream, excluding the drama around her and her mother wasn't there crying over her soon-to-be-dead daughter. It was fifth period where it all began.
"Alright, guys, find your chapter in your Anne Frank book. Chapter 6 to be precise," Ms. Laxryn spoke as she walked to her chair in the room, book in hand.
Alex was closest to the door, in the top right corner of the room by the door. She could hear someone shouting, while the teacher was too busy talking to the class, and giving them instructions. Alex was curious, so listened intensely, until she heard a bang.
The whole class almost went silent, due to the thick walls and all the chatter. Alex screamed, feeling the dream come alive.
Am I going to die?
Alex stared yelling at the teacher, telling her to block the door up, blabbering that there will be a shooting starting, that she isn't insane, that this is really happening, that she herself, that Alexius Boshmier, a depressed, self-harming teen is going to die but not by her own hands.
Her efforts were too late, but memories kicked in. She remembers telling her mother that ever since her younger sister, Isabell, was kidnapped and later found dead in lake, that she would protect anyone, no matter who they were, what crimes they have committed, or who their parents or relatives were. Not one person will suffer like she did, or her younger sister who was only seven at the time.
Before they could get every student into a safe closet, the armed man burst into the room, gun in hand. Alex stared the man down, looking him dead in the eye, and started to beg the man to stop, to kill her and leave the rest alone, to stop all this pain and suffering.
"Please, don't hurt these people! Kill me, shoot me all you want, hurt me but not them! They haven't done anything wrong, but I myself have done enough bad things, hurting myself and allowing my sister to be kidnapped and drowned into a lake by force of cement blocks. It's me you want, not them!"
Tears flowed from Alex's eyes, her eye contact strong as ever. The teacher watched the scene play before her eyes, and before she could shout and stop Alex, the man had started shooting her with bullets, over and over again. Alex's last sight was the man himself crying, a tear flowing, knowing her pain where he did this to rid his own.
He shot her countless of times in the abdomen, legs, arms, but never her face. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her face, her precious face that has seen too much, felt too much, and shown too much.
In the end of it all, only killing Alex and another man, the gunman shot himself.
Jack watched as the girl, Alex was her name, was shot by the man. He tried to interfere, yelling at the man to stop, don't hurt her, she's gone through so much please don't hurt another soul, but no avail. He shot her, with his own tears and sobs, and eventually himself. Time seemed to stop, slow down, as screams filled the air, moans of people sobbing over Alexius' dead body, sirens of an ambulance and police vehicles.
The Spirit couldn't stop the tears from flowing on his cool cheeks, and he flew off, making it snow even more with high winds and cold temperature. All that was left behind in that town of Hatton was grieving and the cold.