Sometimes I forget who I am. I've been around for the longest time, and everything beings to blur incoherently. In times like this, I start to doubt myself.
At the moment, I'd been staring at all the children, running around having fun. They didn't realize how lucky they were, even if they didn't know it at the moment.
I knew I could never feel like them. I had a childhood immortality: I'd always be a teenager, never aging. Meanwhile, they got to experience things I could hardly imagine.
I stared in awe at the kids running around happily, as more and more snow drifted down on them. Smiling at their glee, I turned to see a little boy run out of a small house in a large coat and boots. He was about four or five, and I couldn't help but feel sad as the older kids pick on him. The child looked so small and helpless, and a part of me felt like I related to him.
Immediately, I sculptured a large chunk of snow into a snowball and just imagined the incoming doom on them. This was about to get interesting.
They didn't notice at first that they were at war. It took a few perfect aims at them for them to finally realize what they were up against. They darted back and forth, trying to find the direction it was in.
Being that they couldn't see me, it was pretty easy to pulverize them. The older boys looked very dazzled. It was very amusing, that for once I didn't feel sad that I was unable to be seen. Almost. That bit of disbelief in kids towards me always stung. No one else could really understand that as much as me. For centuries, I've had that empty feeling.
I went easy on the kids, who had built their own hideout for protection against the snowball fight. I felt like a child again, as if I could just be like them for once.
This was what I loved about snowball fights. Or being with children. Their willingness and eagerness for adventures. Or their imaginations. I could feel the energy bursting from their hearts. It reminded me that I didn't care if no one could see me, for as long as the kids had all this in their spirits, I could go on. I didn't need to feel loved because they could see me. I knew deep down that my energy for the fight lives in them.