Feverish dreams ruined my sleep. My hot forehead melted the cool snow around it, wetting my hairline and face. Fire burned through my head. Destroying, hopelessly burning.

It scared me.

It scared me because I smiled.

Finally the cold woke me, breaking open my frozen eyes and exposing me to the cold day. I rubbed my hand over my neck, my short hair wet from beads of sweat and trails of melted snow. I rolled over and took in the sight. Tall, jagged, black trees cut through the white canvas sky. A few wayward snowflakes floated from the heavens and landed on my hot face, making me collapse into a smile.

I was fire and ice. i loved cold and hot.

I sat up and stretched. loud pops from my vertebrae sounded in the stiff air, rousing a bird nearby and causing it to fly away. Silly bird, here in the cold.

Crunches broke my peaceful state and I leapt to attention faster than I could blink. Masculine voices broke the air and drifted towards me, stirring the uneasy breeze. I cut away, dashing and dipping between trees, making sure to land at the base of the roots, causing no break in the white and no path to follow. I slipped into an easy, steady pace. Calmly, I ran, eager to escape them and my old life. I looked back, only to see dark tree trunks on a white background.

I crashed into something, and we both fell, coughing on bits of snow that flew into our lungs. The person stood quickly, and snapped, "Watch it."

I sat in the snow, confused, still running uninterrupted in my mind. I wanted to come up with a quick come back, something witty, but all that came from my lips was a warning to the slim figure that stood above me.

"Police," i murmured, and this caused an uneasy shudder in the person. A hand shot out and helped me up, and as I stood I got a better look.

He looked to be only eleven or twelve. His dark hair was spiked and he seemed roughed up. A bruise colored his jawline blue and green, and badly done stitches held together a cut that broke through his forehead. Lively green eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and he looked at me closely.

"Runaway?" He asked. Still lost, I nodded. He let his stony face break into a quick, sight smile. "Come with me."

AN- This is just an introductory... What do you think? I was cleaning my room the other day and found this... i think I started this story in 7th grade... It's been sitting untouched in my closet for so long, and I'm surprised at how OK it is. (This is not the original version, of course, this has been edited and matured)