Forever Alone . . .

 Most people would be ecstatic about visiting family over the holidays. Then again, most people's family hasn't tried to kill them at least once. Not sure why, but that really seemed to put some sort of strain in our relationship.

Winding through the busy city of New York, I couldn't quite understand why I was always alone. I mean, I go places, I interact, but it never seems to be enough. Well, to whomever is in charge of the universe, it's not enough to get me a friend, not after - No, I refuse to think about that. I swore I never would, and yet, it seems to fill my melancholy thoughts, twisting my heart painfully, like cooling-down-boiled taffy. 

I shook my head to clear my thoughts practically ran into a pole. I stumbled slightly, muttering curses that would have involved a very firm reprimand and a soapy mouth if I had been at my mother's house, which was where I was headed now.

Why am I stuck with such a deranged family? Only-my brain hitched-Deern, by best, and only, friend had been able to sympathize.

He had actually met them, right before he died while my family had been trying to kill me. And not for the first time. you'd think they'd learn not to try and kill me after the first eleven times.

To keep from lingering on unpleasant thoughts, I ducked into a park, brushing the snow off a bench before sitting down upon it. Across the park, a group of boys was having a snowball fight, tripping over the fresh powdery snow as they evaded and struck their opponents.

When did I last have a snowball fight? I wondered to myself, Was it with - my thoughts snagged on the very thought of him, the only person who I wanted to ever see again.

NO! Think about something else! I begged myself. It surveyed the park, all covered in white, and thought of the snow. Sparkly, shimmering, flawless, snow. 

So unlike me.

I tilted my head back and let the chilly flakes caress my face, entangle in my lashes and dark, ebony hair that was falling out of the hat I had put on after getting off the airplane.

There was a yelp nearby, causing my eyes snapped open only to see a snow missile shooting toward me. My hand was in motion before I even processed what was happening, catching it in one hand, precisely two-point-four inches from my face. I squeezed the offensive snowball. It fell to pieces under my firm grip. I scanned all their faces to find an especially guilty face.

I reshaped the snowball mentally and threw it with precision, nailing the unlucky kid in the chest. "OH, IT'S ON!!!" One of his friends called, bending over, scooping up more snow, urging the others to do the same.

I jumped behind a snowbank and began prepping for the onslaught that was coming my way. I buried my no-longer-cloaked-in-a-glove hand into the snowbank and concentrated, pressing the snow into perfectly round snowballs without even touching it. I pulled out one of them and popped up, peeking over the mound. While I was articulately whooping those insolent teenagers, I hadn't noticed someone approaching me.

"Do you need help?" I whirled around so fast I'm amazed I didn't slip on the black ice that kept on creeping up underneath me like it could sense it's ruler nearby. The stranger crouched next to me as I ducked behind the snowbank. "Not exactly what I'd expect from a . . ." He studied me as I grabbed more snowballs. "Twenty-one-year-old woman like yourself." He finished.

"Well," I snapped back, "I'm not much like any other twenty-one-year-old woman, thank you very much." I paused a moment. "Are you going to help or what? If no, could you stop distracting me? Thanks!"

He just nodded and helpfully targeted the other teenagers. Or, perhaps I should say unhelpfully, seeing as he missed more often than not. After a minute or two, he decided to start talking again. "So, if I may ask, why are you attacking my little brother and his 'friends'?"

I almost wanted to smack him. Why hadn't he thought I might want to know I was attacking his brother?

"Well, one of them threw a snowball, it almost hit me, so I launched an attack on the guilty party. Then his associates teamed up together and fought back. It has only mildly escalated into something like unto war."

"Well, you should not have gotten so . . . so involved. You are not properly dressed for such activities. Besides," He blew his pale brown hair out of his face before finishing, "Your family is looking for you."

My black-ish blue sapphire eyes must have widened into terribly huge shapes because his warm brown ones filled with concern. "You do not like your family, do you?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. How absurd." I rose and dusted myself off, adjusting my miniskirt over my leggings and rezipped my coat. I had to remind myself that this was indeed not snowball fighting attire. My outfit was a crystal white and shimmery all over.

"Thank you . . ." I muttered, realizing I had no idea what his name was, who he was, or where he came from. Well, he knows my family and that's reason enough not to trust him.

"Karl," He supplied.

"Well, thank you." I was about to turn and leave, but he grasped my hand and shook it vigorously before turning and walking towards his brother. 

How. Dare. He. Touch. My. Hand! 

I glared at him, then shifted my gaze to the stretch of concrete between him and his destination. Black ice rippled into existence in front of him. He biffed it and sat there looking perplexed before turning his gaze to me.

I just stared at him coldly, flipped my hair, turned, and strode off to my mother's house and utterly insane family.

As I progressed, I thought again.

The Snow Queen.

Me. Alone. Again.

Forever.

As I came home, that didn't sound too bad. At least, until an hour later, when the 'special guest' of the night, was Karl.