Not an Elsa/Anna or Kristoff/Anna story. Sorry!
If any of you have done anything in this story (you'll find out what I'm writing about when you read it) I am sorry if it offends you in any way. I didn't mean to try to mock you or anything.
Elsa - 17, Anna - 15, Pabbie - 45. Any other characters used in this story will have their ages told in the following chapters.
Warning: Characters used in this story may be OOC (Out Of Character).
Warning: This story will most likely be updated randomly.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters used in this story.
Elsa, with her eyes rimmed red and shining with unshed tears, quickly rushed into the sanctuary of her own room locking the door behind her once she was sure it was shut. She was grateful that her sister didn't follow her, she just wanted to be alone right now. She went towards the frost covered window, its thin layer making it easy to look through, and looked briefly outside. She could see Anna and Pabbie still in the car, she looked away as she felt a prickling feeling behind her eyes. She looked at the sky instead, following the falling snow with her eyes. The snow drifting towards the ground was beautiful and unique, untainted by the wind constantly blowing it in whatever direction it desired. The snow itself was pure white and fluffy, it was so innocent.
It was free.
She wiped a few stray tears away before yanking the curtain closed. Winter was her favorite season, but right now it offered her no such comfort like it had when she was younger. She went over to the other window and did the same. With her curtains closed and her door securely locked, she went over to her bed. Nothing was particularly special about the bed, it was queen sized with snowflake designed pillows and blankets. Its mattress was soft and the bed itself was a couple of inches off the ground.
No, nothing about the bed was particularly special.
It was what was under the bed that was really interesting. She reached under the bed to blindly grab onto the object she's hidden underneath. Her search for the mysterious object went on for a couple of minutes, but just as she was about to give up and retract her arm from underneath the bed her fingers brushed against something cool and smooth. She felt around the object she just brushed against, hope filling up in her heart. She let her fingers guide the way around the object, finding its smooth surface making a corner.
'Please be it. Please be it. Please be it.' She silently begged in her head.
Taking a chance she puts her other hand underneath and grabs the object. Once it was secure in her hands she pulled it towards her, the dust and dirt that followed it irritated her already red eyes and tickled her nose, but she couldn't bother to care at the moment. In her hands was the object she had been searching for.
A medium sized black painted jewelry box with white snowflake patterns on the lid.
It was a gift that she got for her ninth birthday eight years ago from her late aunt before she passed away. She got off the floor and onto her bed, looking around the room in slight paranoia before opening the lid carefully. The box was originally meant to hold her jewelry inside of it, but she found a better use for it since it was bigger than the other jewelry boxes she already has.
Inside the jewelry box were a few gauze rolls, a couple of pressure bandages, a small box of normal bandages, and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She breathed a sigh of relief to know her supplies were still inside and in good condition. She set the box carefully on the bed and took all of the supplies out and laid them on her bed cover, once those were out of the way she grabbed the box and opened the hidden compartment that was inside of it.
The hidden compartment held new razor blades, ready for use, that she got with her art supplies and at drugstores. She grabbed a random razor blade, making sure it was sharp and clean. She pressed her finger into the edge of the razor, feeling it's sharp end biting into her skin. Satisfied that it hasn't dulled she rolls her sleeve up towards her shoulder and positions it on her upper arms.
She knows what she's going to do is wrong, but she doesn't care at the moment she just wants to numb the pain. She wipes away a few more stray tears before digging the razor into her skin and sliding it across her upper arm. The cut's not very big, it's only about two inches and a half long. It's also not very deep, but that doesn't stop the blood from coming.
It's strange.
Even after doing this multiple times before it still surprises her how slow the blood actually comes out. The first time she did this she expected the blood to come gushing out, but she was surprised to find beads of blood forming on the cut before slowly falling outwards and onto the towel covered ground.
She supposes she shouldn't have trusted the movies she had seen where the blood immediately started pouring out of the wound, movies dramatize so many thing in them. Why would blood be an exception?
Elsa watched the blood slowly track down the side of her arm and fall onto her blanket.
She watches each drop of blood with awe.
Drip.
She faintly hears a set of footsteps coming in through the house door.
Drip.
But her focus isn't on whoever came inside.
Drip.
Her focus is on the crimson bead currently traveling down her arm.
Drip.
It's so red.
Drip.
Just one cut can draw so much blood.
Drip.
So much.
Drip
More blood droplets stain her blankets before her eyes widened with realization. She cursed herself for being so thoughtless. How is she going to explain this to Pabbie? She quickly grabbed her supplies and ran off into her bathroom.
She doesn't even have to look in the mirror to know she's a mess. What with red irritated eyes, a slightly red nose from the dust, her hair a mess from the running she's done. Not to mention the cut on her upper arm that's slowly oozing out blood.
Elsa grabs a wad of toilet paper and bunches it up before putting it over the cut to stop some of the bleeding. Next she grabs a spare rag from the counter under the sink and pours some cold water over it. She moves the toilet paper out of the way to replace it with the wet rag and wipes away the excess blood and blood trails. Once that's done she sets the used rag into the dirty laundry basket before grabbing another rag and pouring some hydrogen peroxide onto the new rag. She uses the new rag to wipe the cut clean and disinfect it. She puts the rag in the same basket before grabbing the roll of gauze and wrapping it around her cut.
She looks at the sink counter and sees small blood stains, sighing to herself she grabs some toilet paper and wipes them off. She looks around the bathroom once, twice and a third time to be sure she hasn't missed anything or left any evidence of what she's done. So far so good.
She breathes a sigh of relief before looking in the mirror. What she sees is something different from what she would've seen a year ago. The person looking back at her has dead icy blue eyes, pretty eyes but dead nonetheless. She sighs again, this time with sadness.
She never used to be like this.
Sad.
Dead.
A cutter.
She never used to be any of those things, but so much can change within a year.
She shakes her head sadly, grabs her supplies and heads back inside her room. She packs her supplies safely in her jewelry box before stuffing it back under the bed. She knows she should change and clean the blankets or else the blood droplets would stain and be harder to take out, but she doesn't even bother trying. She's too worn out to care and right now a nice rest sounds heavenly to her even though it's almost four in the afternoon.
She flops down on her bed and gets under the bloodied blanket slowly. She stares at her ceiling for seconds, minutes, hours she doesn't know.
Soon her eyes start to feel like sandbags weighing down her eyelids, they start to flutter and before she knew it she was fast asleep.
Ana watched her older sister run out of the car and into the house worriedly. She was so stupid! She shouldn't have brought them up! It was a sensitive topic with Elsa and there she is, tossing it into the conversation so casually without a thought. She regretted what she had said as soon as she said them.
"You know Elsa, the police said they might not figure out who killed Mom and Dad. They said they might have to close the case or put it on hold, I think they said something about a cold case."
Talk about a 'Put foot in mouth' move, but she thought Elsa had a right to know!
She makes a move to follow her, but a firm hand stops her before she could.
"Pabbie?" Anna said in confusion.
"Leave her. She wishes to be alone." Pabbie answered.
Pabbie had been Elsa and Anna's legal guardian for about a year now and while he might not know them as well as he would like to, he has enough understanding of them to know when they want their space.
Anna huffs a little in annoyance before looking at the car floor sadly. "I didn't mean to bring Mom and Dad up. I-I just thought she had a right to know."
"I understand Anna, but you have to understand that while your sister doesn't ask for many things she would have asked for information about the case herself." Pabbie replied then patted her hand softly "Don't be too hard on yourself, you weren't being insensitive just a little bit careless. It's a mistake everybody makes."
Anna nods her head at his words before getting out of the vehicle and walking slowly towards the wide opened door. She stops at the doorway to look at her sister's windows and sees that Elsa had the curtains drawn. She feels even worse now.
She would have thrown a small snowball at the window to get Elsa's attention, but a cold gust of winter air and Pabbie's gentle nudging made her go inside.
Anna makes a quick stop at the closet to put her things away before trying to go up the stairs, but Pabbie catches her and tells her to stay downstairs to give Elsa some more space.
Twenty minutes later Anna was following the tracks of semi-melted ice on the ground and up the stairs.
'Elsa must've left her boots on.' She decided before stepping on another chunk of ice. 'Oh! Cold! Cold! That is very cold!'
When Anna got to the door she prepared herself for the tears she was about to see. She raises her slightly trembling fist and hesitantly knocks on the white painted door.
No answer.
It's okay. She expected that.
She knock again, a little more firmly.
Still no answer.
She knocks even more firmly on the door again, this time calling her name out for good measure. "Elsa."
Again no answer.
She knocks harder. "Elsa!"
No answer once again.
Okay now Anna's getting frustrated.
"Elsa! Open up!" She called out, basically pounding on the door.
She hears the bed creaking and a slight shuffling before soft footsteps are heard walking towards the door.
'Oops.'
She forgot to take into account that her sister could've been sleeping.
Just as the doorknob's lock clicks to signify it has been unlocked and starts to slowly turn to the side she calls out softly, "Never mind. I-I'll tell you later."
The slight hold on the doorknob releases and it clicks again to signify it has been locked once more. The soft footsteps walk away from the door and the bed is creaking again, meaning the Elsa has gotten back on it.
Anna would just have to find another time to apologize to her sister.
"Have a nice rest Elsa."
When Anna doesn't get an answer back she starts to leave, but after a couple steps she turns back around. "I love you."
No answer.
She's just about to start walking away again when she hears it. It was so softly spoken that she almost missed it.
And what she heard had her smiling so big and bright that her cheeks started hurting.
"I love you too."
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