AN- Sorry I only uploaded one chapter last time… I hadn't been in the mood to type and I thought you guys would be tired of waiting by now… I'm going to make five chapters because I had made it to five reviews :3 Sorry to those who like hockey… I don't. Since I'm not in high school, (I know, I know) I'm not so sure how it works… Please tell me if I get something wrong.

Not bothering to do a disclaimer anymore btw.

Jack's POV

I awoke to the sound of someone singing. Strange much…?

I looked over to see it was my alarm clock. I groaned and got up. I threw on a pair of clothes and my hoodie. I then brushed my hair and teeth then walked downstairs.

Today was the first day of school. And I wasn't that happy about it.

Don't get me wrong, I liked school when I went in it all those years ago. Just I have one problem. Sure, I've been able to keep it in for 300 years. The only thing is; I could tell my barrier was starting to go away.

I had an English Accent.

It wasn't that uncommon in colonel times. My family had moved from England. When I had turned into a spirit, I had soon figured out why the first immortal who saw me gave me an evil glare. Pitch had the same accent. So I tried to hide it by talking as little as possible. When I did talk, I would try to spit out my words in an American accent.

But, it's starting to get hard to hide with all the talking I've had to do. It had always felt strange to speak in a different accent.

Already sometimes I would slip into it while talking. It happened as a spirit as well. At least as a human, instead of dirty looks I would get confused/amused ones. Jamie's mom had even said it was okay if I spoke in my real accent. I did something dumb after that.

I nodded.

Jamie had asked me why I never spoke to him in his accent before. I quickly explained to him about Pitch's accent and the spirits who had told me. Well by told me, I mean I overheard them when they were walking away.

I walked up to the double doors of the school. I had to take all the general classes. I was mostly excited for history. I know from watching a bunch of groups of grade nines that you learn about colonel Burgess. So I would, with the help of my memories, know a lot of the people they mentioned.

Already all I could hear them talk about the hockey game that a well-known and liked person from our town made the winning goal of.

Ugh. Hockey.

I may be thee winter spirit, but I never liked hockey. Too many kids got hurt. Tooth was always complaining about how they are wrecking their teeth.

I just tuned the hockey-crazed voices out.

After a few classes, it was history.

But, for now, it was time for French.

I walked into class and everyone stared at me.

After a while of thought, I realized it was due to my hoodie during the summer.

Oh well. Time to show them, then.

My teacher made the rules clear. No speaking in English, and if you can't speak French, then don't speak at all unless asked. Everyone seemed to disagree since most of them only spoke basic to none.

Later on, my teacher, Ms. Raybould, had decided to test our French. For each person's test, she would make the questions progressively harder. Everybody didn't last that long

Since I was in the back, I was last. There was still a good 45 minutes left of class and Ms. Raybould had decided on doing an assignment.

That was, until, I had shown off. My verbal test had lasted the rest of the class. Everyone had wide eyes at me.

The reason why I could do that, of course, was because of my knowledge of every language. You get bored of three centuries of nothing. I got so bored that I ended up finding out every one of the languages that people, and penguins surprisingly, speak.

It was now history. It also happened to be the last class of the day.

Yet again I got those stares at my hoodie. I walked over to an empty seat towards the back.

That was, until, someone else took it from me.

There was only one seat left and that seat just so happened to be the place that I dreaded being the most; where me and my British Accent would get noticed.

The only seat left was in the front.

Ugh. Guess it would have to do somehow. The person next to me was a blonde guy whose hair was so dyed so many times, I could barely tell what color it was supposed to be.

I gave him a small grin; which by the way was a terrible choice.

"Whoa! Dude! Cut back on the white strips; that's almost blinding! I mean when had you started using them, five?"

"I have never used those 'white strips' you are speaking of! I don't even know what they are, okay?"

He gave me a disbelieving look but had dropped the subject.

I tuned out the teacher, Mr. Perrin until he made a mistake during his lesson. In a split second after he had said that, I had corrected him.

"No, that's not right at all. It was Emilia Burgess who had founded the town, not Alexander Lockman. That is a common mistake due to him trying to take over the village in the year 1792. It got so bad they had to make a vote. Emilia won and they had divorced. She had went back to her maiden name and that's why the town is now 'Burgess' and not 'Lockman'."

Everyone stared at me; including the teacher.

"A-And how do you know that Jackson?"

"First of all, it's 'Jack', not 'Jackson'. Secondly, I know it because I do my research and big things like that usually are noticed more."

He rummaged through a few books before looking up. "I believe you are right, Jackson. I will inform the school soon. They needed an update on the books anyways."

I winced slightly at the use of my full name. Oh yea, I am going to get back at him big time. But I needed a plan.

For the rest of the class, with a shocked look on his face, he had explained the new project. We only had five days to do it and didn't get it back, marked, a week from now.

Our project was to create a poster about everything you know about the town's history.

A week later

We all got our posters back. For mine, I had added in the regular wardrobe with my old cloak, shirt, vest, and pants. Of course at the time I had worn different clothes.

I made sure all the colors were nice browns to match with the theme of said poster. I also put designs of frost drawn with marker all over the corners to give it a winter feel. In the end it was fairly good.

This class, I had managed to finally get the spot in the back I have desired so much for the past week.

After all the names were called to grab them, it was my turn. During my walk towards the front of the room, I heard whispers of people saying that I was probably going to get an A. All that I know is that so far everyone had gotten a B or less. Two kids had evens gotten F's.

I grabbed mine. I had gotten an A. Everyone looked over to my poster until someone just blurted out my mark. Apparently he marks really harshly and that I shouldn't be expecting anything above a B. I know that from the rumors.

I was shocked that all of that information fit my poster. I got my information from what I was told what had happened in the past before I had died all the way up to what had happened in the late 1800's. Of course I didn't put every little detail but I still put a lot.

On the back of my poster, it said that he wanted to meet up with me after I got my picture taken.

OH YEA! Oh no, oh no. Picture day is today!

Five minutes later

I walked up to the small little room where our pictures were being taken. I know what will happen soon. I've seen it many times before with kids in the past. And I don't have a long sleeved shirt on underneath.

At this school they don't allow any form of jacket, unless it's for a tux, on while they take the photo.

I guess it's so you won't be showing up without caring about your clothes. It might also have to do with looking like a more professional school.

Either way, everyone is going to be able to see my battle wounds. And I am just hoping they won't take it as self-harm.

Push.

Push.

Push.

"What is it?"

"MOVE ALREADY!"

The person behind me was that blonde kid who dyes his hair a lot. I looked in front of me. The person before me had just left to get their picture taken. There was only a bit of space but it seemed like everyone just wanted to get it over with, hence the rush.

"Oh and take off your jacket while you're at it. She's going to be done soon."

I nodded and took off my jacket.

You could hear a big gasp from almost the whole line. Wait, wait. Now the whole line had gasped at my appearance.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Are you okay?"

I paled so much that if it weren't for my eyes and hair, I would look the same as I did as a spirit.

"Oh, this? Yea I'm fine. I kinda, um, fought in a huge battle a few years back. Also got beat up a lot when I was younger"

It was all true, but a bit exaggerated. By a few years back, I mean about a century ago. I almost killed myself doing so. And by getting beat up, I mean the spirit of spring, also known as Evelyn Marigold, had tried to kill me or make me as weak as possible so winter would end early. And that happened up until I had become a guardian.

The blonde boy, Jett Burns, nodded then did something I didn't expect much.

He took the jacket piece off of his nice little tuxedo he was wearing and handed it to me. I put it on over my plain shirt. I said a little 'thanks' and told him I would give it back right after I get my picture taken so he could still wear it.

Then I walked over to the deathtrap.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Look behind myself.

Step.

I handed the lady with the packet and went over to where I go. She told me to go into a certain pose and smile.

I grinned mischievously at the camera. I didn't want to use my real smile. Not towards her, anyways.

She took the picture with that blinding light and said 'good' then let me leave. I quickly ran over to give Jett back his jacket. He gave me a Hunger Games applause, (the three fingers thing) and we both laughed.

AN- Long, I know. I wanted to add in a big list of things. Please request away. Now to do four more before I publish. For the record, I don't have anything against British accents. I actually love them and that is one of the reasons I added it in. That and I had liked the idea.