Memory loss chapter 11- a funny looking box
A rise of the brave tangled dragons fanfic
Authors note: hey^^ sorry can only post this quick so I can't say much but next chapter as always will be tommorow I hope you enjoy this one and please leave a review (massive thanks if you already have every one makes me smile so much :-)
It was near the end of November, and Jack couldn't help but think about those little weird things.
Ever since Halloween, strange things just kept happening- and that's not counting the weird dream he had on Halloween itself, well sort of it is, because it was a dream.
Ever since he could remember, which was still only as far as July, he'd had nightmares. Getting chased in darkness, running for his life through darkness, being caged in darkness, even getting beaten in, you guessed it, darkness. But ever since Halloween, he'd been getting dreams- nice dreams, and although, granted, they were weird even by Halloween's standards, he much preferred it to darkness.
One had a bunch of hummingbirds flying round kids heads, and going back to a massive, palace/nest thing. Another had walking eggs, that seemed to like swimming. Another one, a rare normal one, had a snowball fight with a bunch of kids- and then the next night he'd had a dream with abominable snowmen and flying, mechanical ducks, jellyfish, turtles, you name it.
Yeah, he had no idea what to make of them- they were weird. But the strangeness didn't end when he woke up, oh no, strange things happened when he was awake aswell.
One day, Merida called him "Frostbite". She had no idea why either, apparently some guy had tipped her off that it'd annoy him- it didn't, though, it only confused him- and, apparently, a similar tip off told her to pinch him hard on the nose. Another time, at school, he came across this weird, giant, glass ball- well, more like he picked it up for a few seconds, then threw it away. His name on the register changed to Jack Frost. Something cold and wet hit him on the back of the head- he'd thought it was snow, until he realised it hadn't snowed since last year. The wind seemed to suddenly pick up whenever he went outside.
You get the idea. The events were crazy, and random, and- oh, he almost forgot- his penpal had been acting odd.
Jamie kept casually throwing similarities between him and Jack Frost into the conversation. If he got a pound everytime the kid said "like Jack Frost" he'd be pretty rich by now (speaking of penpals, they'd reorganised the trip to Wensmore, they'd be going after the winter holidays). He recalled how many times Jamie had said it today. He'd actually counted. Sixteen, over a twenty minute web chat. He'd said "like Jack Frost" sixteen times- they were still web chatting, because his writing still looked like an eight year olds.
Anyway, enough thinking about those things, he had to get to bed. He shook his head to clear it. It was far too late for deep thinking- and it was out of school hours. He wasn't massively tired, but Elinor said to get to bed, so he was going to do: get in the bed- and probably listen to music, or something, for an hour, or so.
He grabbed his earphones, already attatched to his iPod, shoved them in his ears, and jumped into bed. He cracked his head against something, under the pillow.
"Ow! What?" He yanked out the earphones, and lifted to pillow, to reveal a strange box.
It looked a little like a cylinder, that had been chopped in half, longways, and had new circles attatched to either end. He picked it up- what on earth was this thing? It had diamond shapes decorating the chopped side, and a kid's head on one of the ends. Strange... the kid looked a little like him- except he had white hair, and blue eyes, this kid's hair and eyes were brown.
He sat up, and as he did so, heard something rattle inside it. Ok, now he needed to know what was inside. He searched for a way to open it. Hmm, the middle diamond looking bigger and higher up than the others- was it a secret button? What if he pressed it...
Slowly, the thing opened, and it was as though it was opening a door in his mind too. Scenes flickered about in his head, he might have discarded them as hallucinations, or whatever, but he knew what they were. Memories. He knew it in the same way he knew how to breathe. He remembered all the different moments, but they felt distant- like they'd happened a long time ago.
He was running away from his sister- that's right! He remembered he had a sister! Emma Louise Overland. Did that mean his surname was Overland? She was chasing after him.
"Jack." She laughed. "Come back!" They were out picking wild berries and mushrooms with their mother-... strange, he couldn't remember her name. She was also calling to him
"You can't have fun all the time, Jackson." (Was that his full name? No wonder he changed it to Jack- Jackson was a bit of a mouthful) ,and like a typical, good, little boy, he carried on running. His sister following, giggling, as his mother rolled her eyes with a smile. The memory ended, just as another one took its place.
He was up in a tree, before he flipped down to hang by his knees- like he'd done to scare Rapunzel- spreading his arms just to show off a little. As he swung, he caught blurred glimpses of the assembled crowd of children beneath- Emma amongst them.
"Jack, get down from there." he heard her saying, trying to be her mother, but she didn't fool him. The broad, giggling grin on her face betrayed her. She enjoyed watching her big brother acting like a goon, and being silly,- and that was what spurred him on to do it. He wanted, more than anything to keep that bright, little smile on her face- her and the other kids. Making them smile was his daily goal.
Another memory appeared. They were indoors this time. He held a pair of antlers to the top of his head, and stomped about the place. He was telling them a story, and right now, he was the big, daft deer, stomping through the forest, singing terribly. He put on an awful, deep yodelling voice, and sang a nonsense song- which he made up on the spot. It went a little like:
"I am a deer, and I'm singing a song. The singyest song you ever heard. La la la la le, and, le la le la lu. Oh don't I just sound wonderful..." All the kids were laughing hard, and Emma was clapping happily. She'd come up with the idea, for a story about a singing deer a few days ago, and was loving every second
"You're funny, Jack!" One of the kids told him. He grinned, and launched into the next verse- which was even goofier than the last.
The next memory appeared. Emma was tugging incessantly at his hand, as she led him out the house. He felt a pair of ice skates dangling over his shoulder.
"Be careful." Came his mother's voice behind him, he chuckled a little as Emma's tugging increased, because he'd slowed, and turn to their mum.
"We will." He promised, Emma tugging him away from the house, as their mother waved them off.
He was on the frozen lake now, but he'd put his skates to one side, and was crouched, barefoot, on the ice. Emma was stood petrified, as the web of cracks beneath her skates shuddered, and cracked. He reassured her it was going to be alright, she wasn't going to fall in, when, secretly, he was terrified that exactly that would happen. But he forced himself to stay calm, for her sake. He searched his mind for anything to help relax her, whilst, at the same time, he thought of a way to save her. He couldn't stand to see her terrified.
"We're gonna have a little fun instead." He tried, she was still scared, but hopefully, if he carried on, she might not be so scared. He noticed a thick, strong stick nearby- perhaps a shepherd's crook- it was hooked at one end... an idea formed in his mind.
"We're gonna play hopscotch... it's as easy as one, wooah! Two... three." He said, taking a step towards the stick for each number. Just before two, the ice had started cracking beneath his own feet, but he gave a big, overly fake wobble on one leg to stop her getting scared about it, and once he reached the stick, he noted that the ice was thicker here.
"Now it's your turn." He said, holding the stick out towards her.
"One." She took a tiny step, the ice shuddered and creaked scarily. "That's it, that it." He muttered, she was almost within reach- if she just came a little closer...
"Two." She took another step, the ice gave a heart stopping snap, and she gasped in horror.
"Three." He grabbed her in the curve of the stick, and pushed her onto the thicker ice. She looked up at him, smiling. He did it, she was safe. He laughed wih relief, and stepped out to join her, but the push had landed him on the thin ice. The moment his foot left the ice, the floor suddenly vanished, and he fell. The last thing he saw, was his sister reaching out, calling his name, as he fell through the ice... and then everything went dark.
He gasped as that, the last of the memories, faded, the terror of drowning still with him. He clutched a hand to his chest, his deep breathing loud in his ears, heart pumping madly. Still alive. But how? He felt certain he had died there, and what was with the log cabins, and clothing? Everything looked as it might have hundreds of years ago.
He died. He felt certain of it was it- was that something to do with why his hair was white? Because that definately wasn't the hair colour of a regular, normal kid. This was mental! He got some of his memories back- real memories... and in them, he died, wore clothes that were outdated in, at least, the past two centuries, had brown hair and eyes, and...
He sighed, what was going on? What was his life? It definately wasn't normal. Normal kids wore normal clothes, had normal hair, and they didn't have memories of dying.
Was it reincarnation- was that it? Had some god, or Buddha person, looked at him and said: Hey, tell you what, for saving your sister, we'll give you a second chance- so we freak can freak you out, in a few months, with the knowledge that you died!
If that was true, why did he still feel a big, gaping memory gap. What happened to the rest of his memories? Why didn't he have them now? What- Zzzzzzzzzz.
He suddenly fell asleep, as a little golden man, who was checking on him, sent a golden tendril of dreamsand his way. He was freaking out, he had to do it.
The Sandman looked at his friend who no longer knew him. They'd failed. In the morning, he'd wake up, and believe his memories to be a dream- carrying on as if nothing ever happened. It was better than living with the knowledge of his death, but still...
Sandy couldn't help but feel a little upset at the failed attempt. They'd been working towards this all month- with their little hints here, there and everywhere. Their biggest hopes had been pinned on that memory box.
He picked up from where Jack had dropped it on the floor. He'd better take it back to Tooth, and tell the others. The plan had failed. He didn't remember.
Their best hope had failed them.