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Tract title: "Letting Go"
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Chapter 25
RED
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He was the King of Nightmares, the embodiment of Fear, the manifestation of darkness... He was Pitch Black. He knew that he was never to feel such remorse, such... humanity. No compassion. No. He was Darkness. He was the one who terrorized the night. He was the chill the mortals felt in their very bones.
That was what he must... should be.
No. He mustn't think. Not like this. It was not his nature to feel sorry for such a life so short; a light that would have been snuffed out so quickly if he hadn't done anything.
The Fearlings... They controlled his consciousness. They locked his memories away, but he could never forget her face. Her soft face.
Seraphina, my child.
He saw her in another child. Her. The girl he was supposed to torment with his power every night.
"...It is only when it's dark enough do we see the beautiful stars in the sky," that girl had said.
Until that moment, he had never felt relief. All he ever felt was sorrow and loneliness, the desire to be believed in. In a way, he was like the Guardians: if people stopped believing in him, he would have stopped existing, thus destroying the harmony of the world.
He saw in that girl the belief he had been looking for. All her life she had suffered from the trauma of her parents' passing. She believed in her own fear, and that it had the power to destroy her. She never fought it. She accepted it.
It was Fear that kept people safe, no matter which angle they looked at it from. The fear of danger, the fear of harm, the fear of injury... of Death.
If Pitch had been a Guardian, that would have been his centre. But right now, it wasn't his centre. It was his being, inside and out.
Even he was capable of feeling it. The Chaos had showed him. Twenty years ago, the Guardians did so too. His own minions, his trusted steed, had turned on him when they smelt him... his fear of being erased from this world because the children didn't believe in his power anymore.
The Chaos had the power to influence. It used a being's memories, its emotions, its mind and heart...
The monster had showed him a victory, a chance. He could retrieve his old memories, be free from his prison in himself, to see his daughter again. Like Clara, he had been shown a vision. He saw himself being conquered by his own demons...
Never again, he said to himself. Never submit to defeat ever again.
It made a bargain with him, the demon. It had said he would see her again for the price of a mortal's mind. It needed his help, a portion of his power.
He had been told to create a night terror that would wreck her soul. It needed the special kind of terror that would stop her from differentiating the fact from the false.
Initially, he had disagreed. It wasn't his way to make a child fear him and believe in him. He never meant for children to go insane from hallucinations.
But it had said to him that this was different. This was not an ordinary child. Besides, it said, he had nothing left to lose.
And ever since then, he had created a world of horror in that child's mind. One that could never be put down by that golden man's defences.
It was all for a good cause, he thought. It was for his daughter. No one else had to know. The Chaos had promised him a way, and he would achieve his goal.
Pitch had been at the battles, watching. He had no play in them. The Nightmares were part of the ruse, but he would never be a part of the fight, lest he would let the Guardians know that he had was faking his attacks on the enemy.
No, the Chaos told him that he would make it seem as if he had his own task, his mission to find a way to defeat the Guardians' enemies solo.
During Clara's vision, he felt it, her fear. It was both invigorating and sorrowful to bear. When she had screamed for her parents, he wanted to stop it. He didn't want to see a child like that. But the Chaos told him he was that close to his daughter, his goal.
He remembered his own screams when he was consumed by the Fearlings. But this child was the gateway to his victory.
How wrong was he? He had been a fool.
He stood there, on his own cloud of black sand, spectating over the two sides. The Great Wall had been blackened by the battle. Tornadoes twisted here and there, blood decorated the stone. It was orders from the Chaos that he would never, should never, interfere.
He didn't even lift a finger to save her from her fall, because he knew a plan when he saw one.
He saw her now, Clara. She saved the child even if she could have saved herself. Pitch felt the child's fear as he hung by his tiny weak hands over the edge. He felt that fear vanish in a blink when the child saw his protector. As he watched her cradle him now in her safe arms, he wished he could hold his child that way once again.
Maybe he still could.
His Seraphina would never have let him do nothing to prevent a child's death. Twenty years ago, when he fought with the Guardians, he threatened to 'snuff out the light' of a little boy named Jamie. But even Pitch knew that he wouldn't actually kill him. Just scare him.
In a wave of his hand, he released the Guardians' helpers and the Nightmares in a burst of light. They were finally free from the mural of a prison. Pitch returned them to where they belonged.
He ordered his steed who remained, Onyx, to save the girl and her little friend.
Onyx whisked her and the toddler away from the oncoming attack like a dark sandstorm. The Nightmare disappeared into the shadows on the ground on Pitch's command. And so then at that moment, Pitch knew he had to answer to his faults.
The large fireball blasted the side of the walk-path, scattering the surroundings with rocks and debris.
Pitch came down and landed on the battlefield. The others were trying to keep the Chaos at bay, while he used this moment to talk with Clara.
Onyx left them in the middle of the Wall, safe and well away from the edge. She was holding the child tightly as she knelt down beside him.
Pitch knew that he was invisible to them except for her. She was looking at him with an expression of both hate and amazement, as if she couldn't believe he's here right now.
The girl didn't say anything. Blood had dried up on the side of her mouth, but she didn't seem to take notice. The child was speaking to her, tugging at her filthy hair but she put his hand aside gently.
He walked closer, reaching into her mind. The last time he did this, he was taunting Jack with the boy's memory box. He knew she was deaf at this point as he spoke, "Understand, Clara, that I am not your enemy."
He heard her thoughts reply, "And so now you show up?" Her speech was fragmented, as if she was talking through an old radio. "It's you all along... I should've realized. Who else can create nightmares out here?"
"I did it so I can be free from my prison."
"You did it because you thought you didn't have any choice," she said. Clara looked at Benny, stroking his hair.
He waited for her to speak. Dust and ash flew up as he approached the girl and the child. At least there were no deaths...
"You were the one who tortured me. You were the one who fed from my terrors. I thought you were good. But I was wrong." Clara was crying. She used her dirty sleeve to wipe away the blood from her ears and used the other for her eyes.
"I am sorry," Pitch said with sorrow. He surprised himself with the tone of his voice, his emotions mirrored that in her eyes.
"I know it wasn't your fault... But I would never forgive you for what you did."
"I never asked for your forgiveness," he snarled, back to his previous façade.
"Deep down, you're reaching out... for someone who could understand what you're going through... The only one to blame here is the Chaos."
He glared at her vulnerable form. "You naïve child. It paved the way towards my goal: for me to get my memory back."
"I'm sorry no one believed in you."
His eyes widened in fury, but Clara continued.
"I'm also sorry that everyone saw you as a hazard, as something that could hurt them. But no... I never saw you that way. All you ever wanted was to be acknowledged for the good you've done, right? No matter how little?"
Pitch looked at her as she looked at the child in her arms. Ash covered their hair and smudged their skin. Clara was busy dusting him off uselessly. Even if he wasn't her brother, she treated him as if he was. She kissed the top of his head.
"I did you harm," he said to her.
"I accepted that," she said. "You became a traitor to us all, and I accepted that, too."
"You could never understand the reason why I did this to a mere child like you," Pitch said in a low voice. "I've made mistakes, and I know I'll make more. I have nothing to lose, Clara."
"What about humanity? Ever thought of losing that? Compassion? Remorse? Sadness?"
"Of course I feel emotion! I am not a heartless being who revels in the idea of torturing helpless children," Pitch responded.
Clara just looked at him. Her brown eyes were so full of innocence. She began to speak out loud, to the child, "Benny, baby... I... We're going home okay?"
The little kid asked her what's happening, but Clara shook her head.
"I can't hear you, Benny. See?" Clara pointed to her ears. "When my ears are very, very red, it means they are sick. Not working, see?" She snapped her fingers and shook her head.
"Nothing?" he asked her.
"Nothing," she answered when she saw him reply.
Pitch watched all of this and looked at the Guardians behind him. They held the front quite well, he could say.
"Go on, Pitch. I can handle things from here," he heard Clara speak within his thoughts.
He didn't look at her.
"Pitch!" came Jack's angry call when he glimpsed him.
The Nightmare King simply glared at him and melted into the shadows, away from all of this. He has the Chaos to deal with later on.
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"Jack!" Clara called him.
She can see that the Chaos had its attention back to her, and she knew it wouldn't stop at nothing to kill her once and for all.
She read his lips, shouting her name. He flew towards her.
Before he could speak more, Clara began to talk rapidly, "There's no time, Jack. I'm deaf and I can't hear you." Her voice sounded like she was talking behind a very thick pillow. Everything else sounded like she was listening through even thicker pillows. It was getting on her nerves. "I need you to take a snow globe from North. Quick!"
She saw him nod and fly off. Clara looked at Benny at told him they were going home. He had to go home.
Jack returned with a snow globe. Clara nodded and thanked him. Benny reached for the Guardian and Clara let Jack carry him.
Clara asked for him to give her his staff.
Jack looked at her, looked at the smoke demon towering over their allies, looked at Benny, and looked at her once again. His facial expression looked shocked.
When Clara saw him shaking his head frantically, and saw his mouth speaking frantic replies, she merely sighed.
"Give me the staff," she said, holding out her hand.
Jack looked at her angrily.
"Jack Frost, I said give it to me!" She started to cry again.
She read Jack's lips as they whispered something.
Clara looked at him, furious at him for thinking this way. "You idiot! I'm not going to commit a suicide-saviour act," she said.
She read the words 'But' and 'Chaos' and 'Too'. The rest Clara just guessed.
"Too powerful?" she asked.
He nodded, rubbing Benny's back. The poor kid was having trouble falling asleep. To him, the only people who were there with him was Clara and Jack.
For a second, Clara envied the child. "But we have to do something! Nature said you would need my power, whatever that means. But I need yours again!"
Jack look conflicted, but after hesitating for a moment, he finally handed his staff to her. It glowed once more in her touch. Clara's golden glove glittered while it shined.
And Clara heard a loud boom. She looked up at the same time Jack did, seeing the Chaos directly above them now. She told Jack to take Benny and bring him somewhere safe and wait for her.
"Go!" she yelled when he was still standing there. Jack dashed away, carrying a dozy Benny.
The Guardians charged, but Clara raised her hand. She should be the one to deal with this. No one's going to get hurt anymore.
It spoke to Clara like Pitch did, through her thoughts. "I am disappointed in you, little light."
"Save your breath, Chaos!" she replied using her mind. There's no point in letting Jack or Benny hear this.
"Ah, but I am. I'm talking in your brain, aren't I?" It grinned terrifyingly at her, showing her its glowing mouth of fire and flames.
"Your plan stopped working. That vision never existed, no matter how true it all seemed." Clara hefted the staff, pointing the crook threateningly at the smoke monster.
"But you still saw that Jack had killed your parents," the Chaos replied, moving its face closer to her tiny form.
Up close, Clara gazed into the frenzied swirl of flames in its remaining eye. The one beside it had clouded over with a sickly white colour. Clara inwardly grinned at this.
She was also responsible for the silvery veins on its chest, spreading over its body like venom. Clara thought of hitting the Chaos with more force than before, no matter how much energy it would take her.
"He wasn't a killer," she responded to it. "He may be the reason behind their deaths, but they never died by his hand."
That wiped the smirk off that demon's face. "Then it shall be your loss, Star of Bright! I have tried to show you the truth, yet you discarded it like a defective tool."
Clara shook her head. "I can't believe this. You lie! You bent the truth."
"I didn't bend anything. I never told you any lies..." It began to smile again. "You're just too innocent to know."
"Then I wouldn't be so innocent when I defeat you!" Clara said.
"You will pay for your foolish decisions! It shall be I... I will end your pathetic life and enter this world! I will crush your soul. I will use the remains of your power to recreate my own universe from scratch... as soon as I am finished with this. Now, let's start from Step One, shall we?"
Clara watched as the demon opened its mouth. She saw the pool of flames down its throat, the heat washing over her face. The demon's mouth began to glow a blinding white, like hot iron in a furnace.
Clara readied herself. She had charged Jack's staff with as much energy she can muster. The end was glowing like a torch, rivalling that of the demon's power.
It was instinct that pushed Clara. As the demon released its beam of flame, Clara countered it with her own. The end of its energy beam darkened to a blood-red colour. As soon as the beams touched, Clara's power started slinking away from her; little by little, breath by breath.
The Guardians wanted to help and they tried, but the Chaos conjured the last of its strongest minions to keep them away.
It was pure energy that came out of Jack's staff. Clara never knew she had summoned up this much. Even her greatest enemy was thrown aback for a fleeting moment before regaining itself.
White beams touched red. The air smelled like burning gasoline to Clara. An electric current coursed through her arms towards her spine, making Clara scream. It was enough that the skin on her back had suffered a large burn, and now her spine was suffering, too.
Clara couldn't really see ahead of her. Just a bright and hazy blur of light. Her legs nearly buckled as more of her strength was being sapped away. The ground around her was mixed with melting ice and grey ash, but Clara stood her ground. She wasn't going to slip now.
Her muscles shook with spasms. She pushed with all her might while she screamed at the top of her lungs. The exhaustion was getting to her. The lights were coming closer and closer, threatening to blast her into nothingness.
She saw her glove then. It slowly switched into a different sort of spear. Instead of a long blade, the tip of it was fixed with a clear crystal, which was glowing white as well. Clara, knowing what to do, pointed it at the Chaos, so now she was using two staffs instead of just one. It seemed easier this way. Jack's staff might be using up all her energy, but her own weapon gave more than what it took.
And so Clara pushed it to the limit. She saw the lights moving farther away from her, closer to her adversary.
She was glad to see its frustration. It was clear on its face like a painting on a canvas. Clara never underestimated the Chaos, it was never human like the Guardians were.
It still pushed on like Clara, its destructive beam never faded nor flickered as it released it from its mouth.
It was like a massive and intense tug of war, and Clara was glad to see she was winning.
As the power of her opponent weakened, it affected everything around it. Her jaw dropped slightly when she saw their surroundings change. They were returning to Peachborough, Clara noticed. The park materialized around them.
Clara glimpsed the park bridge she was standing on; the Chaos was eerily suspended like a colossal black smog over the frozen river. That solved one of my travelling problems, she thought. Then to her horror, she realized too late that she made one of the biggest mistakes you could make in a battle.
The Chaos saw her distracted state and took advantage, empowering its beam of flames with more of its energy. Its red eye glowed with menacing fury, seeing through Clara's soul while it tried to frighten her.
Clara fell on her knees, yelling out from all the anguish. She was facing an opponent as old as time... possibly even older than that! She couldn't be expected to defeat it so easily.
The Tooth Fairy heard Clara's yell and her attention was diverted from her adversary. Shrieking, she struggled to shield herself from the minion's bladed arm. Out of the corner of her eye, Clara saw her use her feet to stop the blade from cutting her throat. The creature pressed on as Toothiana resisted.
The feeling of worry settled in the air. Clara knew as she battled her greatest enemy that the Guardians were having a hard time like she was. Jack and Benny were safe. Clara couldn't see North and the rest.
Things seemed to get worse as her body began to react to the surroundings, the exposed skin on her back taking much more damage. It was colder in Peachborough Park than in China, for Heaven's sake! Clara's loathing for the wind couldn't get any more wrathful.
Her teeth began to chatter and her knees started to buckle when she felt the winter air. She shivered violently. It was like the life in her was sapped away by the ice beneath her. Goose bumps appeared on her skin, and she tried her best to ignore this.
At least she didn't hyperventilate.
To Clara's distress, ten beastly Chaotic creatures surrounded the three Season Spirits. Clara saw the Spirits shouting to each other. Summer looked like she was the loudest. She seemed to be telling the two other ghosts of the Seasons to combine their powers with hers and converge Nature's power into one.
An argument broke out. Spring was shouting at Summer. Clara saw Jack's name being said quite a few times and so were the words 'power' and 'nature' and 'convergence'. Autumn was yelling as well and pointed to the enemies swarming them, trying his hardest to protect his companions. Summer was shrieking at them both, radiating so much heat that the snow around their area was melting fast and steaming.
The Chaos talked, "Ha! Your companions are too busy with themselves, they can't even save each other. They will all PERISH!"
Clara felt her lungs contract from her sobs. I can't do this, she thought. It's too goddamn strong!
Summer's strong voice called for Jack. Clara knew the rush of cold wind meant that he arrived near them.
Please tell me Jack didn't leave my baby Benny, she thought in dismay. Please tell me he's fine. Please tell me he's safe and alright. A tear had collected at the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. Benny must be brought back home!
A bit more of the shouting came after Jack went to the Spirits, until it was cut short by his own voice. A sense of agreement fell over the group. The Season Spirits were finally complete. Judging by change in the air pressure in Clara's ears that made them pop, they had begun converging their powers. A thunderous crack charged through the thinning atmosphere and there was an explosion.
Angered, Clara's foe bellowed with all of hell and fire and pushed at Clara. Her hands were vibrated from the pressure. She couldn't keep her hold on the sceptre and the staff. Her energy reserves were running out fast.
She was getting too weak...
...she would die!
At that moment, her eyes blurred white at the edges. Clara felt amazed and frightened all at once while she began to see images of people, very familiar people, appearing before her. When she looked at them, it was like everything around Clara had slowed down. She had rarely seen films but never knew this phenomenon could actually happen.
"You're doing great, Clara. Don't give up," she heard her father's voice speak to her.
"You're so close, my Clara. You're nearly there!" her mother said.
She saw them as they had once looked like. Her mother's scarf waved in the surrounding winds like a bright blue flag. Her father was still wearing that brown jacket with the grey hood. If Clara squinted, she would see the stubble of his beard on his chin. They were both very transparent.
A tear fell from Clara's eye. She felt their presence right here, right beside her. They urged her forward. How can she give up now?
There was a new hope for her to win, a new hope for the Guardians. There might even be hope for Pitch, she thought.
An unfamiliar voice began to speak in her head, "Clara. I am the Man in the Moon. I'm lending you my power through your weapon. Use it all you can. I'm proud of you..."
"And I'm proud of you as well, my sweetheart," her father said.
Clara pushed more. Just a bit more... A little bit... more...
Jack stood behind Clara, lending her his power through the touch of his hand on her shoulder. At his back stood Toothiana and Venus, and behind them the others. They all connected like a web, each arm like a wire streaming energy through touch.
It was alone... Unlike her.
"You've grown up as a strong person, Clara. Your dad and I are so, so proud of you. Our strength and love is with you."
Her weapons flickered brighter. Push even more! Clara told herself, standing her ground.
"Clara, your mother and I want you to know that we never left your side. It's okay to cry, sweetie. Your father's here. He's right here..."
The white light had enlarged as her friends channelled their combined energies to power Clara's weapons.
"Honey, you're nearly there. Just hold on a little longer..."
"We love you, Clara. Both of us."
"All of us."
And then a thundering roar cut through the atmosphere. The sound reverberated, so much like the earth splitting apart. The whole park shook on its foundations as Clara delivered the final burst of energy.
The smoke demon's cries echoed across the whole battlefield. Clara felt it vibrate through her bones. It glowed blindingly white. It had consumed Clara's beam of energy through its mouth, and it had cost it its life.
The Chaos turned into a bright pillar of silvery light and burst outwards, disappearing into the darkened sky. The explosion scattered rubble around Clara, who shielded her face.
It was done.
The Chaos was gone.
Clara, exhausted, fell on her knees. Her two weapons rolled away from her grasp, her hands tingling and aching from her harsh grip. There was a slight pain in her middle but she ignored it. Her head throbbed.
Jack had been the first to reach her. The Guardians can touch a sleeping child, whether or not they were a believer, so he handed Benny to Bunnymund.
Clara's forehead nearly hit the ground if not for Jack. Her mind was swimming...
He turned Clara's body around so she was facing upwards. When Clara looked, the sky was back to a midnight hue, not the noon sky over Asia. The stars were not covered by the lights of Peachborough, and Clara was thankful for that. It was a good thing the glare from a streetlamp wasn't in her eyes.
"Clara, Clara, don't faint. Don't faint, please," she thought Jack might've said. It looked like it when she tried to guess his speech.
Why is lip-reading so hard to do? Clara asked herself.
She thought he might've said something about her blood and dying and she can't do that yet. Not yet...
Clara thought it wasn't worth it to slap Jack and tell him to stop acting like a drama queen.
What's he saying? It's not like I'll be gone forever if I some much as blink once, she thought. I just lost more energy than I thought...
She realized that Jack's magic hadn't been protecting her all this time and she didn't suffer from a panic attack once. She looked at Jack and smiled weakly.
He kept on speaking frantic replies. His hands were bare when they touched her skin.
Clara felt like her body was on fire. Her back felt much, much worse, but she didn't care... She welcomed Jack's cold caress.
It soothed her. It took everything else away from her tired mind.
Oh, yeah... Her weapons.... Clara moved her hand, feeling for her spear-sceptre-staff-thing. She felt it morph into a fingerless glove once again as she touched it. She also found Jack's staff and gave it back to him.
She tried sitting up but found that her body was too weak to do anything more than move her hands. Nonetheless, Clara felt Jack ease her downwards with a firm hand when she moved. But she had to find Benny...
She said his name to Jack. He jerked his chin forward, and Clara looked to her left to see that the Easter Bunny was carrying the kid.
Why aren't the Guardians coming closer? Clara wondered.
Clara's heart dropped when Jack set her down on the ground, letting her go.
"No..." she murmured weakly, not hearing her own voice. Clara didn't want to be separated from the cool and soothing feeling. She found herself clutching Jack's arm so tightly.
She saw him chuckle. Jack gently removed her hand and then pulled her arm over his shoulder and around his neck. Clara's head hung weakly, her hair falling down to cover half her vision. Clara complained. Like it's not exactly hazy and hard to see. I'm half-blind over here. Did I mention I'm deaf, too? Great.
She saw Bunnymund come towards them with Benny in his arms, the little kid sleeping with a thumb between his lips.
Jack pulled Clara up; he had one arm under her bent legs and another on her shoulder, carefully avoiding the large burn on her back. Again, he made sure he was holding his staff properly as he carried Clara towards a soft patch of grass.
Clara rested her head on his chest. His body radiated more of that soothing chilliness. She inhaled his scent: a mix of mint and that unrecognizable wood...
She noticed that the Yetis and the Sentinels were gone. Maybe they went back home, Clara guessed.
She saw Jack speaking to the others. I'm guessing that's for calling Karee and Benny's mother, Clara mentally said. She looked at Benny, all cuddled up in Bunnymund's fur. Bunny was going to return him to his mother.
She remembered handing little Benny all the chocolate eggs she found when they scavenged for them one Easter morning. He had been so happy...
~[x]~
Clara brought a hand to her middle. It was soaked. Clara looked and saw blood, litres of it, staining her dark shirt and the grass around her. So that's why I feel so weak.
"Ouch," she uttered, seeing the sharp and thin shard of rock sticking out of her abdomen.
Jack glanced at her. He set her down again, and Clara's back felt quite cool. She felt her burns tingling from the pain reacting to the cold. Clara said this to Jack and she saw him grin.
"Jack... My head..." she mentioned.
Jack began to shake his head rapidly. She saw him say "No." lots of times and mutter other incomprehensible things.
She reached up and pinched his pale cheek. Well, it's better than slapping him, she thought. "I'm not scared of dying. I've seen people die, Jack... My own parents."
Clara just wished she could hear him reply. It was like her ears were stuffed with cotton.
"Whatever you're saying, Snow Boy, it just goes out of my other ear. Before you say anything else, I'm going to say that you have to tell the others I'm sorry I left."
Clara watched him shut his eyes tight, but she knew he couldn't stop himself from hearing her talk. "I'm thanking them for being there, supporting me, supporting... I'm thanking them for everything they've done."
Jack had said something she didn't catch.
"What's that?"
He opened his eyes then. Clara looked into them, knowing this might be the last time she'll see that shade of blue ever in this life. "Don't worry," she read on his lips.
"I regret leaving. I regret telling you to stay away from me..." Clara couldn't say more, because Jack shushed her with a finger. She inwardly chuckled from this, recalling that time he made her see him for the first time.
"No regrets. No worries," Clara saw him whisper. He was holding her close to him, making her feel very relaxed and sleepy.
"Thanks, Snowball," she murmured to Jack.
"Anytime, Fuzzball," he responded to Clara.
She felt herself nod. "We did it. We finally brought Benny back... Safe and sound," Clara said. That annoying lock of hair had fallen over her eyes again, she noticed. Clara wanted to blow it off, but instead sent a shower of spit towards her eyes.
She sulked as Jack chuckled at her.
When he calmed down, the Guardian of Fun placed it behind her ear in the gentlest of actions. His icy touch trailed along her skin, making them rise up in goose bumps. Clara smiled.
Clara was grateful that there were no annoyingly loud sounds of traffic in Peachborough. If there were, then she couldn't hear them. Well, duh.
They sat there in silent company in the middle of the snow-laden park. A soft breeze was flowing while Clara looked up at the clouds, specks of snowflakes fell from the heavens and touched the earth.
Jack's probably messing with the weather again, Clara pondered amusedly.
Clara noted the repetitive flash of red and blue in the treetops. The police... It's too late now, she thought. She gazed at the stars, taking deep and steady breaths despite the rattling feeling she felt in her lungs. Clara wished for a shooting star to appear but none came tonight.
And Clara felt something wet fall on her face, a teardrop. Jack was crying. With a slight frown, she pinched his cheek again. Jack kept her hand there.
She opened her mouth to speak... But found herself unable to say it louder than a breath. Jack moved himself closer, listening.
As soft as the snow on her hair, she whispered a few words.
"Merry Christmas, Jack Frost..."
Jack looked at her breathlessly with a half-grin. She saw his eyebrow rise up questioningly, and she chuckled weakly at that. She noticed that they were a brownish grey in colour, much unlike his messy hair. They were beautifully white like real frost. As he held her hand there, she stroked his smooth, pale cheek softly with her fingertips.
By this time, Clara felt sleepier than the hibernating squirrels that were probably hiding in the hollow logs in this park. She let her eyes droop, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards for the last time.
It was pitch black.
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Aww guys :') It's not the end yet. There's one more chapter left. If you cried, tell me in the comments down below... I have hugs and hot chocolate and maybe some Jaclara blankets with their faces on them inside a heart-shaped frame <3 Thank you guys so much for reaching this far with me :) If you vote for this chapter, I will give you a blankie. :) Love you guys! xx Stay standing. Stay bright. <3