As Jack awoke that morning, he stretched his long, graceful arms to the wall of his room.  He looked at the wall where a calender should have been, then remembered that before he had gone to sleep, he had flung it away, so as to attempt to forget to awaken.  His attempts had been futile, however, as here he was, sitting up, awake.
   Jack got up and glided over to his wardrobe, then flung open the door.  He picked out a stunningly wight shirt, a pair of blue and white pants, and a blue-violet jacket with white snowflakes.  
   (Why dress like this?  Well, Jack, you see, is not like you or me, Jack has a last name that may or may not be familiar to you.  This name belonged to him and him alone.  This name was Jack Frost, or Winter.)
   Jack walked outside to see all of the trees bare of their leaves. 'Autumn did a good job this year,' he thought.
   He then flicked his fingers and it began to snow on the trees of Everwite, Washington(the state, not the city).  He glanced around a moment to admire his work before heading down one of the trails.
   As he walked the trail, he noticed men and women of all ages snuggeling up for warmth against his bitter cold and complaining how winter seems to be snowier each year.  Jack sighed, realizing that his job did more harm than good.  
   He turned and sauntered over to his favorite tree.  He sat down beneath its strong branches, protected by its warm trunk, storing heat from the sun.  It was here that Jack felt the safest in the world.  Beneath his tree, he knew he was safe.  From what, he wasn't sure, but he knew he was safe from it.
   A gentle breeze blew a spiral of snow along the frozen land.  Jack now had a moment to think, about his work, life, and desires.
   His work hurt and even killed people, his life was always revolving around it, and he never had time for desires.
   With those thoughts fixed in his mind, Jack made his choice: this would be the year without winter.
   Jack would get time to do what he wanted to do; meet people, go to games, maybe even fall in love!  He imaginned what it was like to be in love; was it sudden and strong, like how winter started, or was it gentle and easy, like...
   Jack could not finish this thought as tears began forming in his eyes as he realized that he had never even considered this, and so he was keeping himself away from what made the humans so happy.  For some reason, this seemed sad to him.  
   Jack felt as if the world was against him, today.
   He had woken up too soon, hit his knee on the coffee table, gotten tons of people angry at him from all over town, and had gotten all emotional over things he had never even thought about. 'How could this day get any worse?  I mean, come on! Give a guy a break!! I need to go on a...'
   A shrill scream rang out and Jack jumped to his feet, starteled by this sudden outburst.  He turned to where he had heard it and bolted in that direction.
   "Little girls need to mind their manners around the Clockwork Gang," said a large, bulky man holding a slender young woman.
   The young woman's name was Sherill and she was 19.  Her long, silver hair cascaded down her shoulders like a moonbeam waterfall.  Her skin was unusually pale and her eyes were a misty blue.
   Jack saw this and thought of what he could do, but all of his optoins either lead to him being discovered, or her dieing.
   As one of the seven men pulled out a gun, Jack made up his mind and walked out from behind the bushes, his eyes glowing a light blue.
   His voice was deep and ominous.  His words seemed to echo off the trees and the world seemed too frightened to move.
   He chillingly enunciated, "Leave her alone, and leave this wood."
   The thugs were not impressed, though.  Their leader then asked,"Or what?  You'll freeze us to death?"
   Jack's only reply was this, "Yes I will."
   The gang pointed their guns at him and pulled the triggers, but as the bullets were only inches away, Jack froze them, and the owners of the guns, then turned to Sherill and asked, "You're not hurt, are you?"
   This voice was much more pleasant and even slightly cheery.
   "No," replied the girl.  She then continued, "I'm Sherill.  May I ask who you are?"
   Her voice was gentle, like the first morning breeze after a stormy night.
   "I am Jack Frost, but I don't exist, so please forget you saw me," Jack sadly stated.
   The girl looked at him sympathetically, then doubled over in pain.
   "What's wrong?  Are you hurt?" Jack caringly questioned.
   No sooner had the words left his mouth, did Sherill pass out.
   'Great<' thought Jack bitterly as he began to carefully take her back to his home. 'So this is what I get for asking.  Curse my curiosity!'