Elsa

I sit on the floor with my back against the bedroom door.
I'm doing my homework and I don't want to be bothered.
Quite frankly, I find something to be "off" about the Weseltons and I don't want them to come in here.

Perhaps I should explain more fully.

I have been in the foster care system for the past year of my life.
Both of my parents died in a tragic car accident that no one saw coming. I guess even my parents didn't see it coming; if they had, they would still be here.

I have a sister, Anna, but at our ages it would have been near impossible to find a family willing to take in the both of us.
I didn't want her to end up living in a center, so I agreed to split us up.
She went to one family and I went to the Weseltons.
I wonder now if living in a center would have been the better choice.

It doesn't seem to matter at this point; I will be turning eighteen this year and I will be able to legally care for myself.

It's not as if the Weseltons are bad per se. I just get the feeling that something isn't right.
I sigh deeply, ruffling the pages of my homework with the escaped air. "Everything isn't right." I whisper to myself.
A few tears trail down my pale cheeks. It's an overflow of emotions that I just can't keep in. It's a reminder of all the brokenness in my life. The frozen fractals of shatter ice.

"Conceal. Don't feel." I tell myself, urging the tears to dry up.
I set my homework aside. I think it's time for a short break.
I grab the light blue Dell laptop to the left of me.
The screen still displays useless school facts, of which I'm trying to take and turn into an intelligent paper worthy of an A.
I open up a new tab and log in to Facebook. I'll never tell you my password, but if you knew me well enough it would probably be fairly easy for you to hack into my account. Fortunately, nobody really knows me well enough.
I only have a few friends added.
I have a long list of people from my school awaiting me to accept their friend requests, but I honestly have no idea who half of them are.

I have another message from Anna.
She sends me detailed messages almost every day telling me how school was.
At the end of the message, she always suggests we get together.

I never answer the messages.

Hey Elsa!
I have the most exciting news today! Mr. Oaken finally perfected his sun balm recipe! He's been working really hard on it for months!
They were so excited that they closed down the shop early today.
We're going to go out for ice cream.
I have to leave soon so I'll tell you more about my day whenever I get back.
Do you want to go out for ice cream some time?
Love you
Anna

I read the message and log out.

I'm happy to know that the Oaken's seem to be treating her nicely.
I'm happy for her.
That's why I don't talk to her. That's why I keep my distance.
She's better off without me.

Everyone's better off without me.

I can feel the depression sinking in again.
It never truly goes away. It's always lingering below the surface.

I feel the urge to lie down and nap for a little while, but I have this homework that still needs finished.
The last thing I need right now is to start failing in school.
I'm so close to graduating; only a few more months.

I can hardly believe that I'm a Senior in high school. It still seems unreal even now that it's nearly over.
The Seniors practically rule the school.

But I am no queen.

I snort at the thought. Yeah right.
With that, I return my attention to my schoolwork.

Anna

I weave my strawberry blonde hair expertly into two symmetrical braids hanging down over my shoulders.
It's not the most trendy style, even I will admit, but it's how my mom always did it when I was younger.

I have one bleached blonde streak, which I think adds a stylish touch.
I did it on impulse a few months ago. I don't regret it.

"Yoo hoo!" Mr. Oaken calls to me through my bathroom door. "You're going to be late!"
His accent is thick and friendly. I enjoy listening to him talk; he always sounds happy.

"I know, Mr Oaken." I respond. "I'll be right out."

I sigh deeply and look at myself in the mirror.
Big, blue eyes stare back at me. The feature is an asset I know many of the girls at my school are probably jealous about.

Underneath the layers of bubbly happiness surrounding the Anna that everyone knows lingers the sadness I see in my eyes just now.

She didn't respond again.

She never does.

I message Elsa every day.
I want so much to keep the relationship with my sister alive. After all, she's all the family I have left now.
But for some reason, she shuts me out.
I don't want to be shut out. I want to be let in.

We used to be best buddies, but now we're not. I wish she would tell me why.

It doesn't matter now. I have school and I can't waste any more time or else I'll be late.

I open the bathroom door and rush out.