Prologue

People always wonder when I tell them I still believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and everything else that we stop believing in when we're all 10. 20 year old girls don't usually don't go around believing in the magic of Christmas and layout cookies for Ol' Saint Nick (He prefers to be called North, but that's besides my point). But I wasn't always like this. My best friend Jack was the festive one. He was always dragging me around to pick out Christmas trees and caroling. Starting snowball fights and going sledding...

Wow...

Thinking about it now, things were different back then...

I was different back then.

Before my friend Jack became Jack Frost.

"Come on Kat, come out just for an hour...or so."

"Jack, whenever you say 'or so' I don't get home till at least midnight!"

"Kat, scouts honor, only an hour."

"And, wasn't that you that got kicked out of the boy scouts?"

Jack was trying to convince me to take a skate with his sister at Cedar Lake. It was the first day of winter break and he wanted to celebrate by taking a skate on the newly frozen town lake. You might think that's the most boring thing to do for the first day of vacation, but in Cedarville, New Jersey... it's the best thing in the world. Taking the first skate on the lake represents the first of many skating sessions, snowball fights, and everything else kids loved to do in the winter before they grow up.

"Not funny.." Jack replied in a sarcastic tone.

"But seriously, I don't think you guys should go."

"And why not?" Jack argued.

Jack hated being told what to do. He's been like that since we were kids. He was always the one who questioned authority.

"Because, the lake just got frozen. It probably isn't 100% ready for people to skate on it yet."

Jack sighed in frustration.

"Oh my God Kat, your such a wuss." Jack said. I could totally hear his smile as he said the words.

He knew I hated being called a wuss. It was how he always got me to do what he wanted. He would call me a wuss, I would do what he wanted to prove that I wasn't, and then in the end I would just regret even falling for his trick. But not this time. I was gonna stand my ground.

"Oh no, no, no. Not this time. I'm not falling for the whole 'wuss' trick."

"Darn it." Jack said under his breath knowing he had been found out. Jack sighed again. Not in frustration, but in disappointment.

"Come on, Kat I really want you to go." Oh, he was begging now, he must be serious. I was almost going to agree to go, but something inside told me not to.

"Sorry Jack I can't anyways, I have to help my mom out at the studio today."

My mom was an artist and owned her own art studio in town and would paint various pieces for people and businesses around town. She says, when I get old enough I can take ownership of the studio since I've inherited some her awesome drawing talents. Though, owning my own studio in my hometown would be nice, I would love to get out of this small town to go to college and get a degree in art. Yea I know, small town girl with big town dreams; Sounds like a Disney movie. Yuck.

"Alright," Jack said sounding as if he'd given up "just come over my place whenever you're done and we can hang out."

"Yea sure. Call you later okay?"

"Sure." Jack said sounding disappointed.

He always acted like a little kid when he didn't get his way, which I found heartbreaking, adorable and humorous all at the same time. It's funny because, even though we're gonna graduate from high school next year, he still acts the same way like when we were 6. As we said our goodbyes to each other and hung up our cell phones, I sat up from my bed and looked around my bedroom walls at the various art pieces.

I've been drawing since I could pick up a pen. Well, I guess you can't really call them drawings. More like what I call abstract art. If you were to squint your eyes and think really hard, you could try to figure out what I was trying to draw. I didn't actually start getting good until I was around 10. I would draw myself, friends and family in different forms.

As I look up on my wall I see how much I've grown as an artist. I drew my mother as a superhero when I was 11; I drew Jack as a troublemaking kid when I was 16, and myself being the rope in a tug of rope game at 17. It's the darkest of all my drawings. You don't see the faces of the people playing, you just see my arms being stretched and pulled by 2 groups of people. Who those people are, I'm not sure yet. My face is in agony and strain as fingernails dig into my skin. Tears fall down my face and my cheeks are beet red from crying so much, so you can tell I've been part of this game for a while. Whenever Jack comes over and see's it, he tries to make me take it down because he doesn't like to see me in that much pain, even if it is just a drawing.

As I stand up and look out my bedroom window, I'm tempted to call Jack back and tell him I'll meet him at the lake. The sight of freshly fallen snow on in a suburban afternoon as got to be one of the best views out there. Because, not only do you see the beauty that Mother Nature can give us, but you can see kids playing with each other, dad's shoveling snow off their cars, moms making sure their kids are prepared to go in the snow; It's everything that comes to mind when you think of the winter.

I put on my snow boots, jacket and scarf and grab my car keys. As I step outside my house, I see my next door neighbor Jaime Finnick playing with his friends pulling a sled toward the park on the corner. I overhear them talking about what they hope Santa gets them for Christmas this year. I smile as I remember teasing Jack, saying he was only gonna get coal for Christmas because of all the mischief he always got into. He hated me for that, but I always got a kick out of it.

I get into my car, and as I drive toward my mom's studio, I get lots of waves from people around the neighborhood. Not only because my mom is very well known for her work, but because this is a small town. One of those towns, where the school teachers get together and hang out with the mothers of the kids. The owner of the grocery practically knows everyone, and everyone expects you to take whatever career your parents did.

As I pull in front of my mom's studio, I look at the sign Harleen's Canvas, and smile. I give my mom so much respect since she's almost 40 and she's living her dream. As I step inside, I can't help but look at her previous work on the walls. My mom started drawing at 6, like me, and she started drawing comics. Superheros and supervillians, both original and from different comic series. My grandmother was the one who introduced her to comics actually. Since my mom was quite an avid reader, my grandmother suggested my mom read Batman comics since it involved drawing, and one of the villains shared a name with her. My mom basically fell in love with comics after that. Although she doesn't draw comic art anymore, sometimes I'll catch her with a comic in hand.

As I stare at my favorite piece from my mom, herself back to back with Harleyquinn in costume looking like they are ready to cause trouble, I hear my mom's voice from the back room

"Kat? You there?"

"Yea, it's me mom."

"Come here and see this new piece I'm working on."

I walk to the back room where my mom works on her new pieces. It's full of bucket's of paint and sketches on the walls. Also on one of the walls, there is a mural that says "What I do with a paintbrush is my superpower"I look at my mom's new painting. It's a family portrait of Robinson family, the most wealthy family in Cedarville. I can tell by their signature blonde hair, blue eyes, single raised eyebrows. They aren't really nice people. I saw them come in my mom's studio for an event once, and they walked around like they were gracing us with their presence. Jack says that Tiffany, their daughter, sucks the fun out of everything. That's why he doesn't hang out with her.

I can't see why my mom would choose to do a painting like this. I mean, the portrait is beautiful, but it doesn't seem like, she enjoyed painting it.

"Oh, the Robinsons? Didn't know you did work for them." I say as my mother continues to paint the lips on Tifffany's mischievous grin.

"Yea, I was actually surprised when they asked me to do a piece for them. I thought they would go into the city to get this sort of piece done."

"Well, your awesome. Of course they want you to do it." When I say this my mom smiles with a smile.

I don't see why my mom decided to do this kind of work for people who look down on her. Actually, I don't see why she's doing this kind of work anyway. Like it's good, really good actually, but not her.

"Mom?" I ask her as she continues to paint.

"Yea?"

"Do you think there's any chance of you going back to drawing the stuff you used to do?"

My mom laughs out loud at the idea. She looks at me and sees that I'm being serious.

"Oh, umm...because people around here aren't interested in cartoons and comics, Kat." She frowns slightly as if she's had to accept it herself.

"But, there are other people that are mom." I say in a tone that surprised me and my mom.

"If you just go online and post your work, maybe someone will buy it."

"Kat, I can't create a piece because of a chance someone will buy it."

I sigh. I know this conversation isn't going to go anywhere.

My dad was also a comic buff, so when he was alive, he would help inspire my mom for different comic driven paintings. They would spend hours together in the study sketching different designs for characters. When he was killed in a hit and run, 5 years ago, it all hurt us all hard. Especially my mom. She stopped painting completely because it reminded her of my dad. A couple of years ago she started painting again, but it was not at all like the work she did before. She did portraits, scenery pieces, and even created logos for local businesses. I guess it was to keep the memories away.

"You know, never mind mom." I say with a lighthearted smile, dropping the topic.

I could tell my mom was still hurting, even though she smiled as she painted the Robinsons.

She cleared her throat.

"Oh Kat, before I forget. I need you to drive over to the Cooper's and drop off that portrait."

She motioned her head toward rectangular object about 4 feet tall, that looked like frame wrapped in wrapping paper.

"Alright, I'll be back in like 30 minutes." I say as I grab the frame. As I walk to the exit, I hear my mom's phone ring. She answers it.

"Hello? Oh hey Jacqueline what's up- whoa, whoa..slow down"

Jacqueline was Jack's mom. My mom and Jack's mom were college roommates turned besties. So, it was kinda destined for me and Jack to end up friends I guess. I couldn't hear the rest of the conversation since I had walked out to my car. I carefully put the painting in the backseat of my car and sat in the driver's seat. As I was about to put the keys in the ignition, my mom ran out of the studio. She still had her blue apron she used to paint in stained with lots of browns and yellows. She had her cell phone in one hand and her car keys in the other. She came over to the driver's side and opened the door.

"Come on Katherine, we have to go...now." She said in the serious voice she didn't use often. I knew it had to be serious. She used my full name.

"Where? What happened?" I asked.

My mom looked like she didn't want to give me the news and that worried me. She sighed.

"We're going to the hospital. Jack fell through the ice at Cedar Lake and his mom doesn't think he's gonna make it."