Song: Slow me down
By: Emmy Rossum
Start song at (1)
It was 1968 early spring. Just over Jack's 200 year birthday. And the winter spirit was sick. Curled up beside his pond Jack moaned. He didn't understand why he felt like this. He'd never been sick before, it wasn't the spring either. He'd been in Burgress as late as early summer before, this had never happened! He kept circling through feeling like he was roasting, then like he was chilled. His stomach clenched and heaved, and his body ached. Dizzy and exhausted he finally fell into a restless sleep, a foggy dream ensued.(1)
(Start of dream)
Confused and drowsy, disoriented and off-balance he felt like he was moving fast, but with no true destination. A sense of foreboding took root and he desperately called out for help.
His words only echoed back, hollowly, to him. The silence that followed was the worst thing Jack ever heard. He needed sound, he should've been careful what he wished for cause boy did he get it, in a great rush! Jack fell to his knees and cried.
(Start of dream 2)
He watched as he relived the last, lonely, 200 years in a blur. Tears of sadness and fear spilled from his eyes, becoming icicles that fell on the ground with a loud CLINK of ice falling on ice. Jack wanted family, friends, even just a kind acquaintance would satisfy him. But he was only able to watch others never interact with them. He called to anyone who might hear, and care. No one came.
(End of dream)
Jack blinked as he began to wake, still half asleep he mumbled: "Just slow me down." His last word echoed and faded. That's when Jack realized he was awake and that the echo was caused by the thick covering of ice coated snow. The sound was bouncing off what should have been wood and grass. "Oh! I'm so dead!"
"You've got that right!"
Jack spun, almost toppling over because he was still lightheaded, to face a very angry Bunnymund. Either he was hallucinating, because of his fever, or the polka was red eyed with anger.
"This is Easter! Do you know what you've done?"
Jack struggled to stay on his feet; he was in no state to fight. Bunnymund ranted at Jack for a good half hour, and then left telling the winter spirit to: "NEVER mess with Easter again."
Jack collapsed, real tears not a fever -induced dream flowed down his cheeks. He fell into another sleep this time dreamless thank goodness!
By the next day Jack was better, all traces of his symptoms gone. But a greater sickness, one of loneliness, was worse than ever.
One of my reviewers suggested a different way of signaling when the songs start, using footnotes. I wanted to thank them and am eager to see if this new way helps the flow of my stories! Tell me what you think.
