A chilled wind swept through the manor hallways, and somewhere in the darkness- a man was kissing his wife goodbye as she slept. In the silvery moonlight he crept towards the nursery, stealthy as a fox. Not one servant had seen or even imagined what would go down tonight. The house slept as he carried on what would be his deepest regret in life.

A baby's cry could be heard as she was stirred awake, oblivious to what her father was up to. She had only heard his rapid footsteps and the scribbling of a pen on parchment paper. He left a note explaining why he was leaving- and why he took what he did, who he did.

He packed up his infant daughter's belongings and took one last glance at his eldest daughter— a one year old Claire. Her blonde hair glimmered in the moonlight, something she had inherited from her elegant spirited mother. He would miss looking at a mini Eleanor, knowing that he would not be able to return home— he kissed her goodbye.

One Scathing tear dragging its way down his rough cheek, he closed his blue eyes knowing that this was for the best. This was for the prophecy.

"Goodbye my sweet baby." He murmured, reciting the words he'd memorized— a memory spell erasing him from her memory as she knew him. The loving father who'd taken care of her for the first wonderful year of her life was now an empty blank slate. No memory of his warm chest cradling hugs, or the moments he'd throw her into the air and make her giggle until she had hiccups. No spoon feeding applesauce, staring at her lovingly, and no presents he'd given her out of love. Just a cold empty loneliness that could never be replaced.

He was forgotten.

He wrapped his arms around his newborn, Viola, and worked his way out of their lives. He and his infant vanished from the manor completely, not leaving the slightest footprint. This was for the greater good, his family's safety. No evidence of him ever being there except for his wife's memories- her wedding ring, and a small note saying goodbye.

He went away to somewhere far from them, taking his youngest child and some cash with him- leaving behind his riches to his wife.

He knew they'd be better off this way.

Even if it hurt his soul to leave, even if the prophecy hadn't involved him.

It had to be done.

He had to protect them from his infant— from Viola.

He would never be the same.

I can see the water in the creek turn to ripples as I throw stones at it- I was never good at skipping stones. I grab another stone- a rustic orange looking rock, and throw it at the center of the water. I huff, watching as it sinks like an animal caught in quick sand.

"Quite a throw- my little football star." I hear a deep voice sound out, and feel fingers ruffle my hair. I slap the hands away with a laugh.

"You wish I was a football player." I say. I'm much more content kicking balls around instead of catching them. Soccer- that's one thing that helped me keep my mind off of all the things going wrong in my life. And it was a hell of a distraction- in fact, I once nailed Shelly Turner in the face with my bedazzled ball. I was pretty proud back then. I hear a chuckle as I turn to see my dad watching me with the same icy blue eyes that I'd inherited. He's rubbing his chin, brown hairs growing in a five o'clock shadow framing his face. I hold my hands out to him.

"I'm ready." I say as he watches me with careful consideration.

"Did you bring your-" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"Yup, got it in my bag." I say, eyes glancing at the rugged and beat up side bag hanging at my side. My soccer ball- my most prized possession. Worth more than all of my trophies combined- and I was going to ruin it. His bulky figure steps coward, branches snapping under his shoes. He takes a look at my hands, making sure that they're all healed from last weeks training session. He nods in approval and signals me to proceed with what he taught me.

I breathe through my nostrils, focusing on the task at hand.

Without another thought, I take my pink bedazzled soccer ball- and throw it at the middle of the water.

Right as it hits the water, I throw my hands out- putting my everything into it as I feel icy spikes break through my palms. I hold in my groans of pain as I feel the skin on my hands break to let loose my frost. The water stills, ice spreading through it like a wildfire in a forest of pine trees. I close my eyes, concentrating on the feeling- not the pain. My veins freeze with sub zero degree power, and I smile in excitement as I feel it working.

I hear the crackle and crunch of the water freezing over as the ice shoots out of me- doing exactly what I wanted it to do.

This was it. This was my dads goal- helping me master my power, or else my power would take control of me and my heart. I'd never imagined myself as an icy villain- but knowing it was possible is what scared me the most. I know it scared him too. Instead of going out on my dads free days like normal kids and going out for ice cream- he was making me produce my own ice cream of a kind. He had so much fear that the ice would take me, my heart, and my soul- that I never got a chance to enjoy normal things with him.

I always had to be on top of my game, making my palms raw in order to control the one thing about me that I hated.

My powers.

I open my eyes to see if I'd accomplished what we've set out every week to practice doing.

I did it.

My arms fall flat to my sides as blood drips down to my finger tips and into the soil of the ground. I feel a tear slide down my cheek in pain, but I wipe it before my dad sees it. I'm embarrassed.

I don't want to be comforted, I want to be in control.

The sight that I take in is the same sight that I always see- a frozen body of water, ice spiraled to the very core. Frozen fish and frogs on lily pads, everything the way it always is- except for one detail.

One thing that made my heart soar in accomplishment. A dopey grin makes its way up my face as I take a look at a ball stuck half way in the ice- and the other half above water.

It was halfway in by the time my ice reached it and the rest of the water. My ice was getting stronger- faster. And that was that goal.

"Fuck yeah." I say as I stare at the ball protruding out of the creek. I can feel my dads stare of disapproval at my language, but I just ignore it.

"Ok. Now focus for me." He says as I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and drop my smile.

"What? We aren't done? But-" I'm interrupted as he chuckles at me and wiggles his finger as to say no. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. I've been training all this time to accomplish this- and as soon as I do it, it isn't enough for him. Will anything ever be enough?

"Focus all of your ice energy crystals into enough pressure to explode that ball." He says, staring at me seriously. I open my eyes and smile.

"You're joking, right?" I say, expecting him to laugh along. His face never changes- like it's carved in stone. My smile drops, yet again.

"Dad- I don't have enough practice for that. Honestly, we'd be here a lifetime before I'm able to do that. Why must you always push me to do better with myself instead of just accomplishing a small victory and showering in all of the glory for at least five minutes?" By the end of my rant I'm breathless. You sound like a whiny brat. I hush my inner voice as I stare at him in exhaustion, palms raw.

He grins at me and plops himself down right on a pile of orange autumn leaves. He looks around us and gestures to the ball.

"We have plenty of time." He says.

"Dad-" I start, but he doesn't let me get back into my complaining.

"I said we have plenty of time. I have to push you- you won't push yourself!" His Stare hardens as I look to the ground, ashamed.

"I love you, Vi. That's why I'm doing this. You'll never make it alive in this world- in any world for that matter, if you don't keep pushing yourself and striving for better results." He finishes. I feel my eyes water, but hold back the tears, freezing them with a crystal glaze. It coats my vision with white, but I'd rather have that than have anyone see me cry.

"You can do this." He says.

I take another deep breath and ready my palms for more.

I can do this.

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