Jack peeked into a kids rooms, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He wondered why North's globe was telling him to come here when every house he'd checked so far was completely normal! But he still had a few blocks of apartments and suburbs to check. He hummed to himself as he floated on the wind. He would stop every now and then to frost up a window of a car, sad that he couldn't give them a snow day like his other towns. People in Arizona wouldn't know how to cope with a snow day.
He entered a maze of apartments, dashing from roof to roof, and peaking in every window. Just as he was about to give up, he felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest. He stumbled slightly and looked around, trying to identify the cause of this sudden feeling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw flailing arms through a window and crept closer, feeling the aching in his chest intensifying. He hid in the shadow and watched the scene unfolding in the home.
A blond girl who looked only 18, but was heavily pregnant, was shouting her brains out at a girl who looked her age. But this girl had shining brown hair that waved over her shoulders. The brunette looked so disinterested in the lecture she was getting, it nearly made Jack laugh. The blond was screaming about the brunette being "ungrateful" and "stupidly naïve". Jack knew right off the bat that he didn't like this pregnant chick. But the brunette...it was so strange. She was simply sitting and taking the verbal beating. She didn't look thrilled, but she at least was letting the blond get the little fit out into the open.
Jack shifted a little and spied two adults also in the room. Why were they letting the pregnant one yell at the brunette like that? He couldn't believe they were allowing this! Apparently the brunette couldn't either because when the blond stopped to take a breath, she stood and ran out of the room. Jack could see she was much more hurt than she appeared to be, and he flew the few feet to her window. She slammed her door, locking it, and then collapsed on her colorful bed. She sobbed gently into her pillow but Jack could see she was restraining herself. He wasn't sure, but he had a feeling this poor girl was the black dot on the globe. That she was the reason North needed to investigate this place.
OOOOO
I hate her! There is no portion of me that feels even a smidgen of pity or sympathy or compassion towards her! So why did I just sit through that? Maybe I was waiting to see how far mom and dad would let her go before they did something. But, like usual, they did nothing! I try not to full out cry as I bury my head in my pillow. I really don't want to clean snot off this pillowcase. But the more I dwell on the events of the day, the harder it is to control myself.
I sniffle, wiping my eyes and sitting up to go for my special drawer. But a flash of blush catches my eye and I look to my window. I...I swear I saw something...someone. Geez I know I'm crazy, seeing the boogeyman and all, but it must be getting worse. I rub my eyes slightly and stand to investigate a little closer. I search all the shadowy crevices, trying to see something, anything that would explain that flash of blue.
"Are you...looking for me?" I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice. It's the voice of a teenage boy, but that's impossible. Isn't it? Sure enough when I look back to my right, there's a white haired teen with bright blue eyes floating leisurely just outside of my window.
"How are you going that?" I ask, eyes wide in amazement. He too seems surprised by something. I pull open my window, pushing the screen out so he can float in. a cool breeze comes in with him so I shut the window again.
"You let random guys into your room often?" He jokes with a smile.
"Usually they let themselves in." I state sarcastically, but my mind instantly remembers my little visit from the Boogeyman and a shudder goes up my spine. It's not lost on the boy who tilts his head to the side in a silent question. I eye the stick he's brought with him. It looks almost like a fancy walking stick, but blue veins of ice pulse along the wood. His hoodie too has ice along the collar, sleeves, and pockets. He's pale as death and had no shoes on! Just who is this guy? "Who are you?" I ask.
"Jack Frost." He says with a cheeky grin, twirling his staff slightly. The temperature in my room goes down slightly as he does. I grab a blanket, pulling it around my shoulders. "Who are you?" He asks right back.
"Katie Stephans." I say, maybe a bit proudly because he quirks an eyebrow up. "Are you...do you...did the Boogeyman send you?" I ask unsure. This really gets his attention and he sputters a little, nearly tripping over himself.
"The Boogeyman?! You know who Pitch Black is but not Jack Frost?!" He demands, but not in a mean way. More incredulous.
"Well if it makes you feel better he had to introduce himself too. It's not like I automatically knew who he was the first time I saw him." I say defensively. His face softens into something akin to sympathy and curiosity. "If you're not with him, what are you doing here?" I try not to sound mean when I say it. But I'm also curious. He scratched his neck slightly, apparently trying to think of an appropriate answer.
"Well, I was looking for a black dot, and I saw your argument." And that explains nothing. He gets the hint from my blank face that I'm not getting it and sighs. "You know Santa Clause?" I nod. "He has this globe. For every child that believes, there's a dot on the globe. But for some reason there's a black dot somewhere in Mesa Arizona. And I was just trying to investigate it a little to help North out."
"So I'm this black dot? What does that even mean?"
"Well I don't know if you're the dot or not! And frankly I have no idea what it means."
"Seems like a bad sign though." I point out. He shrugs at this. He seems to really want to ask a question. "So...Pitch Black...is that the Boogeyman's name?"
"Yeah. When did you get introduced to the Nightmare King anyways?" He asks, reclining in the air, head back on his perfectly balanced staff.
"He's been around in my dreams for nearly a year now." I explain, taking a similar position back on my bed. He looks alarmed.
"A year?! That's terrible!" He exclaims. I almost want to shush him, but I realize my family probably wouldn't be able to see him. If I'm right about both he and Pitch being figments of my imagination that it. And if they aren't...well I'd like to see my parents faces if they walked into my room and saw Jack Frost floating around my ceiling. Jack is looking at me expectantly as I think about it, and I realize I just spaced out while he was talking about the Boogeyman haunting me. I shrug.
"Actually he's pretty nice to me. He likes to act sympathetic and jazz but I don't think he realizes how creepy it is." This seems to bother Jack for some reason.
"He's...nice to you?" I nod. "That's really weird. And totally unexpected from him. Are you sure?"
"I think I would remember if he was bringing me Nightmares. Usually he'll show up in my dreams trying to convince me to strike back against this shadowy force that also in my dreams. Sometimes it looks like my sister." I explain.
"Was that pregnant chick your sister?" I nod bitterly. "Why is she so mean to you?" I shrug. I wish I knew that too. I bet Pitch would know. He seems to know everything.
"I'd like to say it's hormones, but she's been like that most of her long twenty years. Probably with the exception of her baby years so...nineteen years of that." He frowns slightly.
"Man. You've dealt with that for nineteen years?!"
"No. Only seventeen. And most of them I can't remember because I was too little. Still the ones I do remember make up plenty for it. She's what you call 100% crazy.
"W-w-wait! She's older than you? She looks your age, or younger." He observes. I've heard this probably more times than he thinks. She's already graduated from school, married, and pregnant. And I'm a senior in High School. People never believe it when they hear the truth about our ages and positions in society. Jack obviously doesn't either.
"I guess I look old for my age." I sigh. "Then again she looks really young. It sucks. When I'm fifty I'll look sixty. When she's sixty she'll look forty." I add on, again bitter. For how much of a bitch Carter is, it's not fair that she gets the beauty and the charm as well. I have smarts and creativity but I'm also not good with people and not nearly as pretty as her. She seriously misuses her gifts, is all I'm gonna say.
"I thought people liked looking old and mature when their teenagers."
"Maybe some people do. But, if you stick around long enough it won't take you forever to find out I'm incredibly different from all the people at my high school, in my city, in my freakin family." He seems shocked by something I said, and I try to think about what my bluntness might have suggested.
"By stick around...you're actually comfortable talking to a myth? Someone no one over the age of twelve can generally see?" He asks with a curious tilt of the head. I chuckle shortly.
"I guess so. I mean people already think I'm talking to myself when I have to address Pitch. Sometimes he gets really annoying. Like one time right in the middle of class he starts bothering me." I explain with an eye roll. "I had to threaten the guy that I'd become an insomniac if he didn't go away. And my seat partner has never looked at me the same way since." Jack pales every so slightly, and again I wonder what I've said.
"He talk to you often?"
"You sound like my therapist." I inform him. He doesn't seem deterred by my passivity. "Yeah. Recently it's been more in my day than in my dreams. He popped in a few weeks ago to tell me to not forgive my sister and now almost every day he appears in the corner of my eye with some different smirk on his face." This information obviously does nothing to lighten his mood. "Jack do you think I'm the black dot? Because I can see Pitch?" I recall suddenly.
"Probably. I dunno, I'll have to talk to North about it. North is Santa Clause by the way." He informs me. I make an exaggerated 'OH' face and it's his turn to roll his eyes at me. "I should go tell him about this. We generally like to keep an eye on Pitch and make sure he's not up to any funny business after his little scheme a few years ago. North will probably be interested. So if you see any buff Russian men in red, or six feet tall Australian bunnies, it's not a trick of the light." He explains, hopping of his staff where he's been perched for a good few minutes now.
"Wait there are more? Can I see them too?" I ask skeptically.
"Probably. I mean if you see me and Pitch I don't know why you wouldn't see them. But, I mean, it may be a good thing. We're the good guys after all." He promises. "So...I'll see ya."
"Yeah." I stand up to open the window again. He flies out with a gust of cold wind and waves back at me before being carried off. I wave back, then pop my screen back on and close my window, trying to squeeze heat out of my blanket.
"Let me help." Dark arms wrap around me, nearly making my heart explode. What is it with people sneaking up on me today?! First Carter and her bitching. Then Jack and his kid to kid conversation. Now here I am being hugged by Pitch Black, the Boogeyman. It makes a shiver go up my spine.
"Were you listening?" I ask, weaseling away. While he is warm, it's very awkward. He smirks down at me, his golden eyes boring into mine.
"From the beginning of your argument with Carter. I was going to interrupt your efforts to self harm, but Jack Frost beat me to it." He seems something a bit further than bitter when he says Jack's name, but I don't think I should ask why. The last thing I want is an angry Boogeyman on my hands.
"Do you just hang around me all the time?" I ask, again pulling my blanket closer.
"Not all the time. I have a job to do as well. But I did happen to notice that you once again sat like a lump on a log and let Carter tear you down." He doesn't sound any happier about this than he did about having Jack Frost near me. I look down, feeling almost like a little reprimanded toddler under his gaze.
"I told you I can't stand up to her. Especially not when mom and dad are in the room. They'd let Carter get away with murder as long as that fetus is in her. And it becomes my fault." I explain. He seems to already know my excuses though and doesn't look impressed. He cups my chin in his hand, making me look up at him.
"Do you want it to stop?" I nod. "Then don't forgive her. When she comes in asking for a favor or pretending it didn't happen, tell her. Say you don't forgive her." He commands. My heart sinks a little just thinking about standing up to my older sister. It's never been done before. But I eventually nod. Pitch smiles. "Are you going to hurt yourself or can I go do my job?" He asks powerfully.
"I...I don't know." I admit. What else am I supposed to do? I've been coping using cutting for nearly four years now. I don't know anything else. And now Pitch is trying to tell me not to do it anymore? He sighs, but lets me go.
"At least try not to sink so low." He says monotone before disappearing into the shadowed part of my room. I blink a few times before sitting back down on my bed. Is that it? No Santa Clauses or Easter Bunnies coming to chat? Nope. Okay. Finally peace and quiet. It's about time. With a heavy sigh I collapse back onto my bed. It's only seven o'clock, but I'm tired enough to sleep through the night fine. My eyes gradually close and soon enough I'm surrounded by darkness and dreams of shadowy figures trying to control me.