Now

Jamie's POV

8 years.

8 years since I last seen him.

Since I last seen Jack Frost.

I still believe, always will. People laugh when I still believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, and my savior, Jack Frost.

I'm 16 today. Day before Christmas.

"Happy birthday, baby," my girlfriend, Veronica, cooed in my ear.

I internally cringe at her closeness but hold in my disgust to hide my views.

She obviously doesn't know how much I loathe presence and how I use her as a cover. Girl's a fucking slut. And a dumb, fake blonde.

I smiled a fake smile at her. "Thanks."

"I got a little something for you. Why don't you come upstairs with me to unwrap it."

"Oh, yippie!" I exclaimed with false excitement and dread.

So I followed her up the stairs and to my bedroom.

"Sit there, baby. I'll be right back," she said. Then she exited to my en suite bathroom.

I sat there for about two minutes, asked myself why I put up with this charade, and quickly sneaked out. I ran to the place where no one but me knows. The lake where Jack died and was transformed into the legendary Jack Frost.

The one I grew to love.

I fell in love with the memories he left behind.

I came to realize this fully when I was 13 and able to understand it then.

Now I wait for him.

I looked up at the gray sky, seeing the first snowflake of the season.

Jack, please come back to me.

(A/N: picture is Jamie.)