The Storyteller's Game

If you were to ask me who I am, years ago I would have answered “Wintry”. But now, I am referred to something else. I suppose it’s pretty, though I liked my other name better. Now I respond with “Winter”. It isn’t much of a change, but then again, it’s also a huge one. I used to have four friends of mine I always stuck around with. Sumerre, Autumnia, Flauntii, and Sprinfrey. Odd names, I know…. We come from a strange place. I had a small “crush” as you might call it, on Sumerre…so lively and bright for a fellow.

We laughed and did everything together, but people change as time does. Autumnia says Flauntii became jealous of me, but I didn’t believe so until I found out she was madly in love with Sumerre. She was angry at me because Sumerre (though I had no idea at the time) loved me. She left in a rush, crying and mad, off to who-knows-where. I tried to follow, but that woman was so quick it was hard to keep up. Sprinfrey was very upset by her disappearance. I felt bad for the lad. For nearly a year we searched for her, but gave up.

That is when everyone started to change. Sprinfrey was still lively as ever, but would sometimes be overwhelmed by sadness. Autumnia tried to comfort him, but he couldn’t be mended. Autumnia then started getting depressed, knowing she couldn’t help her own friend. And Sumerre…well, Sumerre was still bright as ever. He tried to be cheerful and help everyone. When he got upset, he would get angry instead of sad. He would blame Flauntii’s disappearance on himself and throw fits of anger. He was quite hot-headed….

As for me, I started to feel strange. I was suddenly darker, colder than before. I started noticing changes in all of us, not only emotionally, but physically. Sumerre’s eyes seemed red to me now, his hair (which was blonde) became a bright yellow. Autumnia’s eyes seemed orange, her hair turning the usual black to a light brown. Sprinfrey changed most of all. His hair turned (what looked to me) green, and his eyes a bright blue. They didn’t seem to notice, though.

And me?

When I looked in the mirror every day, my blonde hair seemed to get lighter. My blue eyes seemed to get darker. Before I knew it, my hair was paper white and my eyes were coal black. Everything about me had changed. I was pale, my freckles were gone. I looked like a ghost.

Then, one morning, I woke up to a whole new world. I was wearing all white and I was surrounded by it too. Bare trees surrounded me, snow blanketing the ground. My bed was in the center, covered in the stuff. I saw a bit of grass ahead of me and ran to it, only to run into a clear glass. I saw Autumnia on the other side, wearing a gown of fallen and dying leaves. She now had brown hair, freckles, and orange eyes. Her hair was cut short, the long curly locks I loved gone. She ran up to me, her hands pounding against the glass. I looked to my left and saw Sprinfrey, surrounded by flowers and trees and animals. He looked afraid. He saw me and sprinted over, doing the same thing as Autumnia. When I looked through, I could tell there was another room next to them both. Sumerre had to be in there. It seemed bright, even from where I was, but I couldn’t see a thing.

After hours of trying to break the glass, Sprinfrey left and Autumnia passed out. I sat there alone, tears coming out of my eyes in rivers as I looked at the world around me.

“How do you feel now?” I heard a voice behind me. I turned quickly to look into the eyes of Flauntii. She looked nothing like herself. Her hair was as white as mine, braided on each side. Her eyes were a deep red color, and she has an outfit made of red and black.

“Flauntii….” My voice trailed off as I studied her. None of this was right.

“I am no longer Flauntii, Wintry. That changed a long time ago….” Her voice was dark, haunting.

“What have you done?” I asked her in disbelief. She had done this. She had to of.

“I am your new creator. You are now living in my world. Everything here came from my own imagination, my own mind. This book in my hands holds everything, anything I write comes to life. I am not Flauntii,” She paused, “ I am The Storyteller.”

“Have you lost your mind?” I practically screamed at her, “What are you talking about?”

“You will be allowed for some time, onto Earth. Sumerre is there now. You will walk across the land, stay there for a few months until your job is done. You are not allowed to be seen by mortals or to talk to them. Or you will suffer the consequences.” A sick, twisted smile spread across her face.

“What? What game are you playing here, Flauntii?” I was utterly lost and confused.

“I am playing the Game of Taunt. You get the honor of being one of the first competitors. Have fun, Wintry.”

And with that she disappeared.

I have been trapped here ever since.