Here is another short story! This is set a few days after Jack drowns.
And thank you to everyone who reviewed!
I'm sorry I didn't upload this sooner but won't let me upload; it keeps crashing!
I also have a picture to go along with this story on my instagram, jackthefrostchild, if anyone is interested.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or Jack Frost no matter how much I wish I did.
Pippa stared blandly at the wall. She tugged her brown dress over her head and slipped it on. Her eyes started to water, but the little girl quickly brushed them away. She was not going to cry, especially when she was alive and her brother was not.
"Pippa," her mother called softly, "time for the funeral."
Pippa walked towards the door. She rapidly blinked away tears as she entered the cold, damp room. No one felt like lighting a fire. No one felt like eating. No one felt like doing anything today.
Her mother stood waiting by the door, wearing a pretty green dress. Pippa grabbed her father's hand, and allowed herself to be steered towards the graveyard. The men and women of the village were already there. A few children were also there; sitting sadly in the soft snow. Jack may have been a trickster and a bother, but people couldn't help but like him.
One of the men stood up and talked. And talked. And talked. After he was finally finished, an empty wooden casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Empty because Jack's body couldn't be found, and no one wanted to swim in the dark lake to retrieve it anyway. Some boys and men had tried go look, but the water was far to cold and deep to swim in. Besides, the next day the pond had already frozen over.
Pippa slowly walked forward and looked with wet eyes at the gravestone. It had the roughly carved words: Jackson Overland Frost-1694-1708. Pippa looked at the numbers. 14 years old! She was crying now, the tears running freely down her cheeks. Only her parents and Pippa were still at the grave.
Pippa placed a carved wooden horse on the newly dug earth. She sat there, staring at those awful words. Snow began to gently fall. A soft breeze floated around, calming the little girl.
After a while Pippa finally got up. Her legs were stiff and her fingers were numb with cold, but she hardly noticed. Her parents each took a hand and together they walked slowly back to the cottage.
Nobody even noticed the white-haired boy who was watching the whole thing.