Spring Has Not Yet Sprung

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Everyone has a little Belief in them, whether they like it or not. We also all have some sort of spark in us that makes us unique, and we should all learn to respect that magic in everyone.
I'll tell you a tale of how this magic can change people around you, and even change yourself...

The bright pristine moon shone over the quaint little town of Burgess, snowflakes gently falling out of the sky, each one delicate and fragile but unique in design. They accumulated in small drifts in front of houses, on rooftops, on window ledges, and also paved the sidewalk in a nice white blanket. The stars in the black canopy of the night sky illuminated the ground, twinkling merrily along with the moon in the night, trying to compete with each other on who could shine the brightest. 

Lamps from inside houses joined in to light up the town, though most of them began to switch off, for it was bedtime for many little children. One could only imagine how warm and comfy they were, snug and content under their large, fluffy quilts. 

Up in the north end of the town, the lake was still frozen over—people had gone ice skating there today, and the trees surrounding it were covered with frost, clear, spiral-shaped icicles still hanging off of bare branches. 

The scene was just too pretty, as if it were taken out of a book. Many people would call this a winter wonderland, and it certainly deserved the name—Jack Frost had outdone himself this year.

The only problem with the beautiful sight? It was Spring.

Staring out the window at the beautiful snow did nothing to ease my anger and my sorrow. Two infuriating things had happened today, and I swore to never let them happen ever again.

Firstly, I was furious at my sister. At a mere 8 years old, she was already acting like a grown-up and being practical about everything. She had said no to joining the annual Easter Egg Hunt. She had said 'no' to partaking in dyeing the eggs to hide around the house. She had said 'no' to Believing.

Needless to say, I had snapped at her harshly, and I got reprimanded because, well, "you are the older sister, and you should be the role model. Don't always take your anger out on your sister". However, my parents still convinced her to do a hunt inside our house. In my defense, it was her fault for being too mature. 8-year-olds were supposed to run around in the snow, chucking snowballs at each other, like I did with my friends back when I was her age. With Pippa, Cupcake, Jamie, Claude, Monty, Caleb and everyone else--but I had been fast asleep at home with a raging fever when the MAGICAL NIGHT happened.

I hated fevers from that day onwards.

Pippa came racing towards me the day we got back to school, Jamie and the others tagging along behind her. She animatedly described what had happened the day I had been absent in the gang's adventures--the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman and even Jack Frost had come to protect my best friends, because, apparently, the King of Nightmares (called Pitch Black) was causing everyone to have nightmares and to not have Belief. I didn't remember having a nightmare that day, though--I was contentedly dreaming about fairies and Neverland.

Anyway, they claimed all that was true, and had each other to prove that it was real because they'd all experienced it together--without me.

I still Believed, though. I refused to let a fever take advantage of me and rob me of my childhood. I hoped and wished on the Second Star that I would get to experience a MAGICAL NIGHT like my best friend Pippa and the others had.

But we all really know that this girl can only keep on wishing.

"Stop staring out the window like a princess, Kayleigh. You're thirteen," a shrill voice cut through the silence in my room, and I whirled around to see my sister standing at the doorway, hands on her hips.

"And you should start staring out the window with me, Heather." I responded. "The snow makes everything outside look so—"

"Magical, yes, I know. I still have to finish writing down my analysis—there has to be a scientific explanation for why Spring hasn't arrived yet. I suspect it's because of climate change, but maybe it isn't, since temperatures around the globe should be getting warmer, not staying cold..." Heather walked past my room into her own, and I presumed she had taken out her journal to record whatever she'd said just now inside it.

I sighed and turned back to the window. Easter was tomorrow, and I wished she would take a break from whatever grown-up things she was doing and participate in the fun and games like a child would. At least, like I would.

The world outside my bedroom was still ever so peaceful, ever so serene. I looked up at the North Star, then tilted my head to face slightly towards the right, where a smaller star lay. "Guardians, if you're out there. Fairies, if you're out there. Please, give me a sign that you exist—I've been waiting, and I've never lost my faith in all of you because I know all of you are somewhere out there. Help us bring Spring back, and help us make the flowers bloom again. This winter is beautiful, but it's also worrying all of us. Where's the usual cacophony of birds outside our houses in the morning? Where's the drizzle of rain welcoming the grass shooting out of the earth?

"I have hope in all of you—someone told me that was important."

"Be quiet, Kayleigh." Heather snapped from the room.

"Alright," I shouted back, and proceeded to flop onto my bed. As I tossed and turned, I couldn't help but grow slightly anxious of what Heather would become when she reached my age. Would she already be running for president? Would she forget that the Easter Bunny even existed—or even have any Belief at all?

I told myself to shake away all these negative thoughts, and focus on hiding spots for the easter eggs tomorrow.

I dreamed of colorful, dancing easter eggs that night.

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