I woke up to the freezing cold air of a empty bedroom. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, my breath coming out in small puffs of white cloud. My nightmare, the terrors, the dark figments of my imagined tormentors, all of it had been a dream. A terrible, dark , twisted and all too realistic dream. I had suffered from nightmares since I was a little kid, it was one of the few things in my life that never changed.

I lived in a small, cute cottage on the outskirts of town about half a mile from the woods circling our town of near constant winter. I had moved here little over 5 weeks ago, in the middle of summer. In the middle of a blizzard. Yeah, town of near constant winter wasn't a joke, or a metaphor for bland, nothingness that most associate with the color white. (1*) I didn't mind though, I loved winter, meant I didn't get weird looks when I wore jeans in the middle of summer. That and I didn't have to be envious of everyone wearing skirts and shorts.

When I was about 7 my parents and I had been in a car crash, I didn't remember the car crash itself, and the only thing I had left of it were the graves of my parents and a scar on my leg. The reason I didn't wear shorts or skirts. After that I had lived with my grandparents for a couple of years until I turned 14. My grandparents, although they loved me, thought it would be better if I went to live with my aunt in Florida. My aunt was 39 years old and they claimed she would be able to relate better to me.

Well, they got that right. They simply misjudged how often she would be able to relate. My aunt you see, is hardly ever home. She works a full time job at a bank, and often (everyday) works extra hours. She even works on weekends for crying out loud!

I didn't mind it much though, it gave me plenty of time to myself. Plus she gave me a stack of money at the beginning of every month to allow me to do things. I generally didn't spend much of it though. I spent a quarter of it on clothing and some make-up, a part of it also went to school supplies and the like but no, most of it went into a savings account for uni.

I was hoping to go to the best art uni, I could afford and actually get into, but I'd need some money to live on. Art, in all its forms, was a secret passion of mine. Dancing, singing, music ,drawing, literature, you name it and I've probably taken a course or lessons in it. I loved art.

Sadly though, I wouldn't be able to spend as much time at it as usual. As today was the first day of school. My new school. Were I knew absolutely no one. I sighed in despair, this was going to be a long day.

I climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom connected to my bedroom to take a nice hot shower. I looked at the clock as I passed and groaned, 5 A.M why did I always wake up so damn early?

After showering and towel drying my hair I shrugged on my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, a long sleeved red top with a collection of white hearts on it and a fluffy beige zip-up hoodie.

I slipped on the bottom tread of the stairs and tumbled to the floor with a crash, face first into my boots. At least it wouldn't have to search for them later. I groaned as I stood up and went to the kitchen to fix some breakfast.

Opening the cupboards looking for some cereal, my eyes instead fell on a pop tarts box. A pop tarts box filled with pop tarts with the flavor of marshmallow hot chocolate. Grabbing the box and making a sound between a fangirl squeal, and a wounded animal I raced to the toaster and popped in two of the pop tarts. As I waited for them to warm up I picked my schoolbag of the floor and dumped it onto the kitchen counter. I had left it by the kitchen door and it had tiny bits of frost covering it. I looked at the door with a grin and saw it covered in the same pale blue-white frost. Jack Frost must have an obsession with this town. I smiled as my thoughts lingered on Jack Frost, I had always that myth the most. Although I did find it strange that the man that brought us snow days and fun would be a cold old man. I chuckled and shook my head, it had been a long time since I last read any of those stories. Every since mom died they hadn't been the same.

I jumped into bed happily as my mom plucked a book of the shelf, The Great Book of the Fairy Tales. It was my favorite book and my mom loved reading it too me. We had just finished the Toothfarie's story and were now moving onto the next one. She sat next to me onto of my pale blue blanket with the snowflake pattern and opened the book. She flipped through the book until she got the right page.

"Ah, Jack Frost." My mom smiled down at me and moved the book over so I could see the picture. The picture was of a old man, with white hair and bright blue eyes. I looked up at my mom confused. " Why is he an old man? He brings us snow. Snow is fun. Old men aren't fun."

My mom laughed, her cherry red curls bouncing as she shook her head. "My dear, just because something is portrayed as something doesn't make it true."

I blinked back tears, that was the last time my mom had read to me, the night before the car crash. I swallowed the lump in my throat, grabbed my pop tarts and ate them silently. Thoughts of my mom, frosty landscapes and snow filling my mind.

It had been a long and dull day at school, I had several classes with a sweet girl called Amilie though, she was a klutz , like me, so at least we had something to relate too. I was currently walking home mulling over all the homework we hadn't gotten. I had taken a walk downtown to go to the florists to buy some flowers, everything was looking dull and gray around the house. I had just turned the corner to the florists street when I saw something. A boy, no older than me in the park, throwing snow balls and making ice out of nothing. I continued on my walk thinking nothing was strange about it until it struck me, ice out of nothing? I turned back quickly towards the park and after looking down the street for cars quickly crossed the road. The boy was still there, he was wearing long brown trouser, a blue pullover hoodie covered in frost and … no shoes? He chucked another snowball at a kid and I caught a flash of bright blue eyes, I stared at him and took in his ice white hair, strange clothing and hooked staff. I gasped blinked once, twice … three times and turned around and walked away. Your just imagining things, he's not real your just thinking he's real because you thought of your mom and his story this morning, besides he's supposed to be a cold old man … right?

My mothers word ripped through my mind as I hurried home.

"My dear, just because something is portrayed as something doesn't make it true."

I frowned as the red haired girl hurried off, after hearing her gasp I had turned away from my game of pelting kids with snow balls. She had looked surprised, confused, hopeful and most of all hurt when she turned away. The first 3 I could understand (I mean how many times do you meet the one and only Jack Frost?) but the last one hurt? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Why would she be hurt?

My frown deepened, I would have to find that out or it would nag at me. A grin spread over my face as I decided and flew up into the darkening afternoon sky. It was time to find out were miss red head lived. And of course cause some mischief when I found out. I needed to know if she could really see me.

I slammed the door behind me and sank to the floor. Breath, in and out in and out. There was no way that was real, no way in hell that could be real. I had not seen a boy who could make ice out of nothing, who had ice white hair and ice blue eyes. It simply wasn't … possible.

Or is it? A soft voice whispered in my mind. Could what you saw be true? Could you believe in that if it was? My head thudded back against the front door when I realized the last two questions could both be answered with ...

Yes

A/N

Alrighty, this is the first chapter of this story, let me know what you thought of it in a review. Like it, hate it ? Doesn't matter tell me! Of course like it is preferred over hate it but if it is hate it tell me what you hated and I'll try to make it better next time!

(1*) probably a really crappy thing that no one else would think of but that's just the way my mind works. Snow=white= bland, boring? Get it? Probably not. What can I say? I'm just a tad on the crazy side sometimes!

Oh, one last thing, I haven't seen the movie yet. Which I know is a terrible thing! Buuut this story just kept streaming through my head and I just had to get it out.

-Dreamer