The next morning was supposed to be the most magical day of the year, or so Dimentio was told. When Mimi described it the night before, she said that there was a special kind of feeling that came with Christmas. She described waking up when the sky was still dark and waiting with anticipation for morning to come before sneaking out and seeing that Christmas tree with presents beneath it. 

Dimentio found the story slightly unbelievable because Mimi wasn't exactly a morning person, but surely enough, she was up hours before the sun was supposed to rise.

Dimentio hadn't yet fallen asleep. He was watching through the window, waiting for the storm to lighten up. Everyone had been trapped in the count's cabin. Luckily, it was big enough to fit all the company, but that didn't change the fact that Dimentio felt like he was being trapped. He and Mr. L planned on staying awake together to watch the storm, waiting for it to lighten up enough for them to escape, but the man in green ended up falling asleep sometime around midnight.

"Hey Dimmy," Mimi excitedly squealed from behind him. Her voice was hushed, but not quiet. She squirmed with delight as she looked at the tree, which seemed to glow in the darkness with its rainbow lights. 

She was practically beaming with joy. Dimentio envied her. Perhaps he too could have felt that way had he not known so much yet so little at the same time. He wished he could just forget everything and celebrate with her. He wished he could sit and watch as his closest friends unwrap the Christmas presents he forgot to give them. He wished he could see Mr. L's smile as he opened up that telescope O'Chunks bought, despite already having one. He wished he could hold a box adorned with thin wrapping paper and tear it open to be greeted by something that someone else got specifically for him.

He couldn't, though. 

The man in the window told him to wake up - to please wake up. 

The man in the window wasn't there, though. 

Please, wake up.

Dimentio could hear him. He didn't know what his voice sounded like, but he could hear him. Or, he could see him in his mind, mouthing the words. He could see him with his hands pressed to the glass, the tears from before still in his eyes. Or maybe they were new tears. 

He turned away from Mimi, then walked over to the corner Mr. L was currently curled up in. The jester kneeled down, then harshly shook his shoulder.

"Please, wake up," Dimentio whispered. 

Mimi had gone to the Christmas tree and started shaking the boxes with her name on them. O'Chunks had gone in and placed his presents under the tree while she was asleep. Dimentio saw him. Although, he had no idea how O'Chunks got these gifts. Had he stashed them in the count's cabin the whole time?

Mr. L groaned quietly to himself, shifting slightly. It took a few more moments before he could bring himself to open his eyes. 

"Merry Christmas, Dim," he muttered.

"We're going," Dimentio whispered before the man in green could fully bring himself to consciousness. 

The man in green yawned, then slowly sat up and started to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. His hair was messy and there were bags under his eyes. Dimentio noticed him tossing and turning all night, although he couldn't tell if this was normal or if this was just because he was uncomfortable sleeping on the floor. 

"Is the storm gone?" 

"No," Dimentio answered. "It won't ever be. We have to go anyway. Now."

He couldn't explain the frantic feeling inside him, but he knew that if he spent Christmas morning the way he wanted to, surrounded by the people he loved most in the world, he'd never want to leave. He'd leave behind all the questions for the perfect world.

And maybe that would be okay. 

But maybe it wouldn't. 

"Okay, okay," Mr. L said, standing himself up and grabbing his jacket. He put his hat on over his head and wrapped his green scarf around his neck. Then, the two of them tiptoed for the door. Luckily, they didn't wake anyone and Mimi was too distracted by the presents. 

Once they got to the door, Dimentio looked back at the scene. All his friends were sleeping peacefully with not a thought of worry on their minds. 

He felt a deep heavy feeling within him, as if this was his final goodbye. It wasn't, though. He'd be back by Christmas morning. He could still have all those happy things. 

He pushed the door open and stepped out into the harsh darkness. Despite the blizzard, he could see the stars he hadn't seen in weeks, sitting overhead in their perfect, organized patterns. Nightingales sang, just like they used to before he told them not to. 

His heavy heart turned lighter when he felt another hand grab his. He looked to his side to see Mr. L. The man in green shivered, filled with just as much fear of the unknown as Dimentio.

Dimentio wasn't going to be scared of the dark, though. He wasn't alone. Even if his own mind felt foreign and the world felt full of rips, he wasn't going to be scared. 

With the songs of Nightingales ringing overhead, they marched forward.

The wind was harsh, but it didn't seem to push them away from the ocean anymore. It seemed just as confused, coming from every direction at varying speeds. As they walked, branches cracked and fell overhead, landing behind them. It was as if the world was unraveling in their wake. 

Once they found the ocean, Mr. L ran up to where the raft they made was built. There was snow surrounding it, but it was still standing tall. The ice surrounding it seemed to only help the wood stay together.

Dimentio watched as Mr. L started to drag the small raft out toward the water, then turned his gaze toward the ocean. Despite the raging storm, the sea seemed calm. Far too calm. It wasn't natural.

"Dimentio, are you ready?" Mr. L asked once he got the raft out deep enough into the water for it to float without touching the ground. The ocean water had gone up to his waist, he must have been freezing. 

The jester turned and looked back in the direction they came from. Both sets of footprints had been washed away by the wind. 

He then walked out toward the sea, taking a step into the water, which didn't feel cold or warm. Just like the water in the indoor garden, it was just there.

 He continued walking until he reached the man in green, who helped him onto the boat. Mr. L gave the raft a hard push, then pulled himself on and started shifting the makeshift sail so they could head in the right direction, which must have been hard with the way the wind was acting up. 

Dimentio didn't even know where they were going, and he doubted Mr. L did either. 

"The ocean is so calm," Mr. L noted as they drifted further and further from the place Dimentio thought of as home. 

"We'll be able to go back, right?" the jester asked. 

He didn't want to say goodbye to the people he loved. He didn't want to say goodbye to winter vacation. 

"Of course," Mr. L said. 

Dimentio nodded, but still found himself waving goodbye. The heavy feeling continued to swell within him, like the tide. Although, he never saw the tide change. 

Dimentio looked down into the water to search for his reflection, but nothing had changed. All he saw was a deep blue darkness. 

"Look, Dim!" Mr. L chimed, pointing forward. 

The jester looked up to see a large island in front of them. It wasn't where they came from, though. This looked different. There was snow, but it wasn't everywhere. It covered the trees, but a deep green color could still be seen. Mists covered the peaks and the water beneath them began to get choppier. 

"I didn't know there were any islands nearby," Dimentio muttered.

"Me neither," Mr. L said as they sailed closer and closer to shore. 

The boat stopped close enough that when Dimentio jumped out, the water was only to his knees. 

The harsh temperature made him jump back onto the boat and yell out in shock. He had never felt anything so cold. 

"Whoa, are you okay?" Mr. L asked. 

Dimentio nodded, though he could still feel the prickling sensation in his legs, like dozens of small ice picks. 

Mr. L hopped into the water, though he wasn't quite so dramatic about the cold. He seemed to take a second to adjust, then held his arms out to Dimentio. 

"It's only a few steps," he said. 

Dimentio knew that, but he didn't want to go back in. He didn't like the way it felt. He didn't like how suddenly pain had spread throughout his body. He didn't like how far from Christmas morning they were. He missed the idea of spending the morning with his loved ones by a warm fire with hot drinks and gifts. 

He took Mr. L's hand and carefully stepped into the water. His body involuntarily started to tremble violently as they walked. Each step stung like he was walking on fire, but cold.

Once they got to land, Dimentio took the lead. There was sand beneath them instead of snow, though it wasn't warm. His shoes were wet and the sand stuck to them, getting into his shoes and irritating his skin. It was a relief when they made their way out of the sand and into the woods. The jester could tell morning was approaching because the deep black sky had turned to a mixture of purple and blue.

He wasn't sure why, but the soil he walked over felt familiar. There was no path, but he knew exactly where he was going as if he had been there before. He walked up a slight incline until he saw a similar lodge to the one back in the town he had grown to love so much. Only this one looked completely abandoned and run down. 

"What is this place?" Mr. L asked.

Dimentio shook his head. He wanted to say he didn't know, but that would have been a lie. He couldn't tell how, but he knew exactly where they were. 

He reached for the rotting wood door and pushed it open. 

Sunlight had started to stream through the rotting holes in the roof. The air was cold and drafty. 

"Dimentio, where are we?" Mr. L asked again as Dimentio approached the main stairway and started to climb. He allowed his hand to glide beside him on the handrail, his footsteps echoing with each step he took as his heart raced. He could hear the ticking in his ears, like a clock on the wall of a doctor's office. 

All he wanted was to go home and sit by the fireplace with a thin blanket draped over his shoulders surrounded by the people he loved.

He reached the top of the stairs and peered through a glass door. Beyond it was a room with a bed.

He placed his hand on the glass and peered past the reflection of someone he had no recollection of, glancing inside. He ignored the terrified look in the reflection's mismatched eyes or the disheveled black hair. He ignored the clenched jaw and furrowed brows. 

"Dimentio," Mr. L said from behind him, though Dimentio knew he wasn't talking to him. 

He was talking to the person lying in the bed. The person beyond the glass door. 

Dimentio could hear his own heartbeat. He could hear Mr. L's heartbeat. He could feel them both as if they were his own.

But neither were his own. 

He always thought that his heartbeat was the one thing he had for certain, the one thing that was solid in his life. 

Mr. L placed his hand on the glass door as well, next to Dimentio's. 

"Dimentio," he said, and this time Dimentio knew he was talking to him. 

"I want to live," Dimentio whispered. 

Mr. L knew this. 

Mr. L wanted him to live too. More than anything. He couldn't even begin to imagine a life without Dimentio in it. He was beginning to imagine all kinds of futures, all kinds of possibilities, but every single one had him in it. Maybe that was why they all felt so unrealistic and distant. 

The two of them looked at one another, a heavy silence between them. 

There was only one heart beating in that whole building, yet it was loud enough for everyone to hear. 

"Dimentio-" Mr. L started, when a projectile suddenly hit him square in the chest, causing the man in green to fall onto his back and hit his head on the ground. 

He heard a loud ringing in his ears as he sat up and blinked a few times. The sight of Dimentio standing before him suddenly became clear. He didn't see the person he admired more than anyone else in the world. He saw a man with deep gray skin, and raven black hair that covered his mismatched eyes, which looked at him in a way they never had before. 

"I want to live," Dimentio said. A purple and black projectile danced across his ungloved fingers, which were slightly burned at the tips as if he dipped them in fire. His purple cloak was torn at the edges slightly from the bushes and shrubs they pushed their way through as they climbed up to that place, dripping with freezing seawater. 

"Winter vacation is over," Mr. L said, reaching for the wall behind him and picking himself up. 

Dimentio flinched, then threw the projectile at the man in green like a grenade. Mr. L quickly dove to the side to avoid it. He didn't have anything to defend himself with, though. He didn't have supplies or time to invent anything. It was just him and the strength in his heart. 

"What do I even look like, Mr. L?" Dimentio asked, vanishing. His voice echoed throughout the room, sending chills down the man in green's spine. "Is this even me?!"

"Dimentio, stop!" Mr. L begged. 

"Aha..." the jester's voice laughed. "Aha ha ha ha, you've known all along, haven't you?"

"I didn't know anything!" Mr. L begged. "Please, let's just talk!"

"I haven't done anything wrong! Why is there nothing inside me?" Dimentio's voice begged. 

Mr. L wanted to cover his eyes and hide, but there was no time for fear. He saw the truth now. They both did.  Deep down, Mr. L always knew that this was the truth. He always knew that everything would end in all he knew being torn apart. He knew this was how it would end. A perfect world could never last. 

"Dimentio, we can't stay here," Mr. L said. "We can finally be free."

"You mean you can finally be free," Dimentio said from behind him. The man in green had just barely enough time to duck and avoid yet another projectile. He could feel the freezing air pass him as it narrowly missed his face. 

"This was your plan," Dimentio cried. "You made us stray from the path. You made us come here!" 

"I just wanted answers!" Mr. L cried. "Dimentio-"

"The world isn't real!" the jester sobbed, hurling more and more attacks at the man in green with no strategy other than allowing his rage-clouded instincts to take over. "I'm not real!"

"You are real!" Mr. L cried, trembling. "You're in there! I'm trying to save you!"

"I don't care!" Dimentio shouted. "What if I like this me more than that one? What if I like this world more than that one?! What if I want to live?! I just want to live!"

He started to tremble, then dropped to his knees, shaking. Mr. L could see the threads in his mind start to unravel. Even so, Dimentio felt more familiar to him than he ever had before. 

The jester hugged himself as the broken heart which wasn't even his continued to beat.

He couldn't bring himself to fight anymore. He couldn't fight someone who wasn't real over a world that wasn't real. 

A heartbeat that now felt foreign raced in his ears.

He looked back to the glass door, which had opened. 

It was waiting for him.

His eyes stung slightly as he tried to blink away the darkness which started to cloud his vision.

He was supposed to meet up with that toad later that day to talk about the end of the book. He was going to ask for the kid's name. 

Would he ever find out? Did the toad even have a name? 

Or was it all fake? 

He stepped into the room and placed his hand over the sleeping person's forehead. It felt warm, unlike his own skin. Though there was no pulse. 

"You're lucky," Dimentio said to Mr. L. "It looks like my winter vacation is over."