First decade.
"You're a murderer!"
"The moon must have made a mistake bringing you to life."
"All you bring is fear and cold."
Jack flailed his arms, trying to defend himself from the harsh attacks that seemed to come from everywhere. "I'm sorry! My powers, I can't control them!" he yelled, yelping when he heard a bone snap.
Jack heard a scoff from one of his many attackers. "You really are useless." And then he stomped on a pale hand, crushing the bones underneath.
Jack screamed. Fear radiated from him in large masses.
The beating continued.
...
And when it finally ended, Jack was black and blue and red all over. He struggled to lift himself up, using his staff as a crutch to alleviate the pain in his right leg. His mangled hand hung limply by his side, swaying back and forth with his movements.
He stumbled to a near by village where the children were laughing and running around in the snow he had brought.
"Help," he cried weakly. He leaned heavily against a house. "Help," he tried again with no success. He staggered over to the children, his wounds causing him unbelievable pain.
"Hey, Ally!" cried a boy, shouting a girl on the sidelines, right behind Jack. "Come play ball with us!"
The girl replied, happily, "Okay!" She ran towards the ball that was kicked in her direction... and ran straight through Jack.
The winter spirit gasped and clutched his midsection, where pain radiated to and fro. He fell on his behind, jarring his injuries. He quickly jumped out of the way before another child could run through him. He was on his hands and knees now, crawling the best he could back to the forest he came from. He was too weak to call the wind to help him.
He leaned on the trunk of a large tree and panted. He took his broken hand and laid it out against his lap where he could see all five broken fingers. The only finger that wasn't broken was his thumb which had somehow survived that abuse. He took one of his fingers and prepared himself for the oncoming pain.
One...
Two...
Three! On the last number, he quickly popped his finger back into place. His mouth opened in a silent scream. "Shit!" he shouted through gritted teeth.
He took the next finger.
One ...
Two...
Three! Like he did with the first, he popped the bones back into place.
He repeated the process for the next two fingers and his leg, shouting cuss words like it was nobody's business.
With his hand was fixed and tied together to keep them straight, he worked on tying a straight stick to his leg.
Next, he took his cloak and ripped off a large portion of it. He winced, feeling bad that he was destroying something that connected him to his unknown past. He used it to bandaged the worst of his large cuts and scabs. The minor injuries and bruises were quickly frosted over.
When it was all done and over, he lay back in a snow bank and closed his tired eyes, which quickly led to another of his nightmares that came whenever he slept.