Hello there! This is my very first RotG story which I saw a few days ago and fell instantly in love with! Due the blizzard our dear Jack Frost has sent across Minnesota I've been stuck at home, skipped school, and started working on this which I had been HOPING to save but... I got bored.
I apologize in advance for the spelling of Boogeyman but that's how I grew up spelling it (To me, Bogeyman looks like something in golf and Boogieman just sounds... gross.) Also I do apologize for the grammatical and spelling errors. I'm an English major so they embarrass me when I find them in my writing so let me know if you find them! I try to make my writing as free of errors as possible!
I'm trying to move this story at a realistic pace, so it will be a bit slow. It will be hard for me to keep it slow too so I apologize but it will be worth it. Also the summary does say Eventual JackXOC so she is going to grow up into a teenager and and be interested in him. But nothing weird, I swear. He doesn't... fall in love with a nine year old, that's weird. I could never bring myself to write something like that.
Also don't read into names too much. I realize the name Morgan throughout stories and such has an evil connotation but it's just a name. I don't personally like super common names like Sarah or Jessica or Rachel, but I didn't want to use something like Isabelle, something princessy or fantasy, or Mary Sue ish, or something unheard of like Edana (REAL NAME BTW! And pretty! But too rare, I think). And I like the name Morgan. It's just a name.
AND REVIEW! Please! Don't be afraid to be mean! (in a... polite way) I want my writing too be good! And let me know if you want the chapters longer or not. I like long chapters but I know not everyone does so I thought I would start out short.
And please enjoy!
All the dark images were stripped from her mind, and strangely, all negativity and hopelessness seemed to leave with it. The change in the household seemed to literally happen overnight. The house just felt like it had physically brightened and the atmosphere surrounding them was much warmer than it previously had been. Morgan's parents spoke with more cheerful tones and there was more laughter from her siblings – of which she had four – when before there had been endless arguing and whining between them. It was hard to say what it was that stopped it all, but it was hard to ignore the strange coincidence that the dreams that had been torturing her at night also stopped and she suddenly felt the Boogeyman no longer existed. Falling into step with the laughter and joy that now filled the house, and the entire neighborhood even, just became natural, and it hadn't occurred to Morgan to even realize that she no longer believed in the Boogeyman.
"Hey Bradley," the little nine-year-old Morgan said to her brother, age six. "Do you believe in the Boogeyman?"
"Um... no!" he responded happily.
"Why?"
"I dunno..." he didn't even pause to consider if this was weird and just grinned while skipping away. Morgan scratched at her head, shuffling her magnificent almond waves around. She waddled back to her room, bouncing her chubby body to the hues of teal and cream that made up her room. She swam under her bed and retrieved the white and yellow Easter basket she received a little over a week ago. The Bunny had hidden it very well this year. She had spent the better part of an hour looking for it before discovering it was in the freezer. Of course, but now the chocolate had all unfrozen, and he was especially nice this year. Morgan always felt bad about only sending letters to Santa so she often left notes for the Bunny, and notes under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy as well, and it usually bode very well for her. Instead of grass, which she detested, even the edible stuff, he had left green apple licorice for her, and in the bed of licorice was five chocolate crème Cadbury eggs, pastel colored butter mints shaped like eggs and bunnies. She had eaten most of the jelly beans and the Lindt chocolate bunny was missing his head. Besides the candy, he had also given her a stuffed fox, her favorite animal. She grinned, when she thought about the generosity of the Bunny, and how her siblings did not get nearly as much, and they certainly didn't get a stuffed animal.
She chewed on three pieces of licorice and shoved the basket back under her bed. She hopped onto her quilt and stroked her small fox and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what happened that everyone suddenly felt happy. Her mother said it was the Easter spirit, but that couldn't be because the Easter spirit was pretty much dead that Sunday. There were no hidden eggs, no hidden baskets. She finally found hers the following Monday, feeling a sudden urge that hers would be there that day - and she was correct of course - but it wasn't the Easter spirit. All of her friends decided the Easter Bunny didn't exist and neither did she. Only when her nightmares stopped and she woke the next morning did her faith in the holiday become restored.
"The snow is melting again, Morgan," Bradley stated as he intruded into her room and cupped his face to the window. The edges of the snow had indeed become rounded and the streets flooded with the water the snow created. Tufts of green poked through the edges of the snow mounds and there were patches of green across the back lawn. "Spring is here."
"That's what Easter is," Morgan explained with a snippy tone, annoyed at the way her brother barged into her room. "Everything is new again."
"Oh no!" he yelled.
"What?" Morgan snapped with the roll of her hazelnut eyes.
"My snowman is melting!"
"It's made of snow, you dummy. Of course it's going to melt."
"But this is such a good snowman! I named him Jeff. He had a wife and a baby but the snow blower ate them." Morgan scrunched up her forehead while she questioned how her brother had come up with something that scary.
"You're crazy."
"I just want to keep him! He's the only one left of his family, and I spent such a long time on him. He can't die as well... Maybe Jack Frost will save him."
"Jack Frost?" Morgan snorted. "How is a dead poet going to save a snowman?"
"He's not dead and he's not a poet, silly goose," Brad said her to. "I heard the kids talking about him at school. He controls the snow and the ice and the blizzards and makes it cold. He really does exist."
"Why am I just finding out about him now then?"
"Because no one else knew about him. Some people swear they saw him and that many people can't be wrong."
"I think you're telling stories. I'm gonna ask mom," Brad scurried out of her room and snatched up his jacket hanging on banister of the stairs. Slowly, Morgan bounded to her mom in the living room while she looked at a magazine reading Women's Day. What was so amazing about those things, she wondered. They never had fun stories or comics. Just a bunch of words about stuff like clothes and health. Although the pictures of babies were cute.
"Mom?"
"Yes, darling!" said Mrs. Christine Kenter happily. She flattened the magazine across her chest and her green eyes smiled as much as she did.
"Is the snow and the ice and the cold controlled by Jack Frost?"
"Well, yes!" chuckled her mother. "And so is the nipping at your nose. That's Jack Frost too."
"I thought Brad was lying about that."
"Nope!"
"Thanks, mommy!" Morgan walked away, thinking to herself once again, while her fingers twirled with a strand of her long hair. She hummed to herself and looked out the window, watching as her brother pushed the remaining snow to the snowman as he tried to preserve it. The gusts of wind blew his ash blond hair into his face and Morgan chortled at the sight. She thought about her mother's words, on how Jack controlled essentially what made up winter. If that was him who did that, and they were surrounded by it, than he must exist. She turned from the window and decided to give her little brother a hand with the snowman to make up for being mean. She slid her arms into her white coat that made her look like an oversized marshmallow and jumped into her shoes. She waddled out into the thinning layers of snow and shrieked at what suddenly came flying towards her brother and the snowman.
A a kid somewhere between a young man and a boy zoomed on the wind currents in dust colored pants and frost covered blue hooded sweatshirt. In his hand he gripped a crudely shaped hooked staff and his feathered hair was white. Not light blonde, ice white. Morgan caught his cold cyan eyes staring at her and grinning as he passed by. Brad waved his arms excitedly while he called out Jack's name to him.
Jack Frost really did exist!
NOTE: Her mother is not trying to tell her Jack exists, just explaining who he is to her, but a child's mind believes if her brother was right about him being in control of winter, then he must be right about his existence. I want her to believe in him really quickly so I get to the actually plot of the story. Also this is the very first time I have ever written the word licorice in my life and I didn't know how to spell it. And I am 21. I spent ten minutes sorting out the British spelling from the American. It was a hassle.