Chapter 1
The 1940's. A wonderful place, magnificent, extraordinary, after the war ended of course. The 8th of December, that's a different story. The day I found out what I was. The day my family left me for dead.
- 11 PM: December 8th, 1944 -
Jezebelle laughed in glee as she she sprinted in the night air. The sound of bombs, the air raids, all gone. Free from the 3 year olds mind. Disappeared. It was a welcome sensation for the girl, and she adored freedom from all the death that had enveloped her.
Her golden hair whipped around her white fluffy earmuffs. Her pink coat covered her in white fur, comforting her shivering body. The Northern American scenario made Jezebelle feel so alive, the freeze was such a wonderful feeling compared to the heat of Greece, even in the fairly cold winter months.
She giggled and rubbed her mittened hands. I might see snow! Jezebelle's excited voice ran through her mind. She smiled as brightly as possible as the moonlight clouds rumbled overhead, spreading their news of what's to come.
Soon, tiny flakes of ice will grace the sky, spreading their cold kisses upon Jezebelle's thick eyelashes, hugging the open spots of her pale-olive skin. The little girl ran around the open field shouting cheers of happiness. She turned and waved to her parents, about 20 feet away, and smiled as big as she could to express her gratitude and for her new home. Her rich parents waved a little back, her mom with her tight brown curls- reaching her shoulders-, clear pale skin, red lips in a beautiful smile, and large blue eyes made her the epitome of 40's beauty and fashion. And her dad, with short cropped black hair, a black moustache, and handsome brown eyes, that man could be on the cover of a rich man magazine.
The Aime's. The most prestigious family in Southern Greece. Mrs. Marie Aime and Mr. Tom Aime. Yet with their fancy jewels and good looks, no one could forget Jezebelle Aime, the perfect mix of two people, yet containing none of their qualities. Her long hair was gold, not brown or black, and her eyes were green, not blue or brown, adorned with thick lashes.
"Hi mommy! Hi daddy!" She squealed in delight, dancing in the tall grass. The field reached to the edge of a dense foliage, a forest, and Jezebelle's parents sat at the top of the hill, right near the entrance road of the field. The Aime's owned the area, they bought it for Jezebelle.
For parents that loved their child so much, who knew that they would abandon her.
The clouds rumbled once again, and a mischievous grin plastered onto Jezebelle's face. She ran up to a bunch of rocks about ten feet away from the parents. Hiding behind the rocks, she cried out in happiness to the world, "Yay, it's snowing!" She laughed, and the air got silent as the first flake fell.
What began as a beautiful escapade of snow and wonder turn to dust. Jezebelle stayed hidden behind the rocks, watching in awe how such tiny things could be so powerful, especially in large groups. A snowflake tickled her skin, and she stuck out her tongue to catch one. With the long silence from the three year old, it would only be right for Mrs. Aime to check on her little girl. Marie walked calmly up to the rocks, and sneakily came up behind them. She quickly bent her head down in front of Jezebelle to yell: "Peek-a-boo!" But instead a scream racked with fear and terror ran out. Her little girl, her little Jezebelle...
Was a monster.
Jezebelle looked up innocently at her mom, on the verge of tears, unknowing of what she had turned into. Her skin- it was white. The snowflake had turned her entire body into ice.
"What's wrong mommy?" She whispered, ice spreading from her onto the ground, like hands crawling forward, infecting the grass with cold and frost. Her mom's eyes stared in fear, looking at every portion of her daughter's exposed body.
"You aren't my daughter..." She cried, stepping away from Jezebelle. "You're... you're a MONSTER." Marie ran screaming away, dragging Tom with her, abandoning their scared daughter. Tears sprang freely from Jezebelle's eyes, and a lone call, frozen in ice, rang through the field.
"Mommy? Daddy?"
When no one called back, Jezebelle let out a sob, and cried into the new falling snow, coating the ground. Each tear froze the three year old's body, each cry thickening the ice. When morning came, Jezebelle was nothing more than a child coated in 5 foot diamond hard ice, where she was left for 14 years, until she would thaw out. 14 years of watching the outside world, futile attempts to get her out.
Watching. Growing. Waiting.
When she was 18, she woke up.