As the ice cold Febuary air constricted around Jason's chalky, white sky and bled through his thin, black hoodie, he scuffed his black sneakers that had seen some better days across the paviment as he walked down that old, forgoten road that knew him so well. He had told his foster mother that he needed some fresh air to clear his head. Realy he needed an exscape from her nagging about her job at "Leslie's Thrift Store" and complaining that money was so tight, but realy he did need to clear his head. School had been hell, his foster parents would never be able to understand him, no one would rememberb his birthday, and his dreams are have been so messed up that every night he woke drenched in cold sweat. It's been the same dream over and over again; he was on his knees weeping by a iced over riverbed, and just below the surface was a single black rose. It's petals crystalized like it was covered with black dymonds that sparkled in the dim waxing moon light.
"You shall not remember her. She will fade from your memories." a banished angel's voice whispered into Jason's ear.
"No,"he choked between sobs."she will always lenger in my heart."
"Then you will shall feel her pain." before Jason could turn around to see the deadly angel's face he felt a stab in his left side of his chest sending ice through his viens, and darkness filled his vision sending him into unconsiousness. When he awoke a crystal knife stained with his ruby red blood was placed in closed hand.
That's when Jason would jump into awareness, his jet black hair soaked in sweat, and his crystal blue eyes misty with tears.
Jason kept the crystal knife hidden away from his family and only friend, Jerry, who renamed himself November.
Jason himself had replaced his own name from Jason to Ice, but November person to called, Jason, Ice.
Ferrisville was a small, typical town. Almost every boy in the highschool did some kind of sport, but mainly football. Oh how Ferrisville loved their little, pitiful football team who couldn't make a touchdown if their lives depended on it. In other words Ferrisville wasn't a diverse highschool. Jason and Jerry were the only boys to not play a sport, not run for class president, and not care what colledge they were going to attend in four years. So they of course was branded as the Emo/Gothic kids who worshiped the devil by the very crowd that was formed of future trophy wives and future taxi drivers with pizza sauce stained shirts, who were commided to keep Jason and November labled as outcasts.
As Jason treded down that path less traveled, he mumbled under his breath "Well atleast I can count on misery to celebrate my fifteenth birthday..." but Jason didn't know that Misery would really remember his birthday, and would even give him a prestent he would never forget.