Disclaimer: Characters are based on Disney's "Frozen". The plot is mine.
Part 1
"Do you know the saying: "A picture is worth a thousand words"?
But what if these words were burnt into your heart, branded into your mind? Such words are different. No picture can ever replace them, neither one nor ten or even a thousand.
It's all about the purpose of the words, the love hidden between the lines, not about how sharp a picture is or which location is presented.
What does a picture by a good photographer tell about a person? It shows the body of a person and that's that. But the words by a gifted writer speak of...
... everything. Good days, bad ones, all the sorrow one has felt, hope and despair. All of this and so much more this can be caught inside this net of words. A writer is like a fisher knitting his own web. But instead of looking for fish, emotions are caught, in all their beauty and all their wrongness. It's the soul that can be written with words. No photograph could even come close to something like this.
Our story has begun with such words..."
Anna,
You probably wonder who I am and how I know your name. The first question I cannot answer yet, but for the latter one, well, I have scanned the school network for your face and found a name beneath it. Your name, hopefully.
I want to ask you a favour. Only something small. Could you leave a piece of paper at your desk? You don't have to write anything, just give me a sign that I found the correct name. Can I say 'thank you' beforehand or do I ask too much? I know that this is quite personal. But asking never hurts, I think.
I would be happy if I found your paper, but I would truly understand if you just threw this away here and now.
An admirer
9.16.2004
"... The first letter was quite unexpected and, I must admit, I didn't fully understand its meaning back then. It was not the first love letter I had received by then and certainly not the best one either. Something made me curious, though. Till this day I cannot point out what exactly it was that triggered my interest, maybe it was the almost timid way of writing, always asking, never demanding. She told me that she was interested in me without even saying so. It was only for the fact that there was no other hidden meaning behind the words that had convinced me that it was, indeed, a love letter.
I believe it had been the uncommon way of telling to be interested in me while simultaneously asking for my confirmation, that had convinced me..."
Anna,
Did I already tell you, what a wonderful person you are? Giving me, a total stranger, a chance. Most would have burned the letter - no, on second thought, they would probably be too lazy to even bother setting it ablaze. The bin would have been a more likely home, but you saved it from such a terrible fate...
I've heard you like mysteries. And games. So I planned a game for you to solve a mystery. My mystery.
Be patient and let me surprise you.
An admirer
9.17.2004
"... I have found quite a liking to receiving the letters, although hadn't paid them too much respect. 'Some guy' I had thought, 'trying to flirt with me through letters.' Oh my, how far from the truth I was..."
Anna,
I've promised you a game and a game you'll get. Show me when you are ready and we can start.
An admirer
9.17.2004
"... Have you ever been obsessed with someone imaginative? I've been. Back then I couldn't let go of that mystery given to me. I needed to know more about the writer, if only for the thrill of playing detective.
Now, quite some time later, I know that this decision has changed my life, turned it upside down. And only afterwards I realised how triste it has really been before I've met her..."
Anna,
You cannot imagine what you've done for me the last days. You've given me hope, a light guiding me through the darkness of life. Now I'll guide you to me.
E.
9.18.2004
"... Her messages had been so short in the beginning as if she didn't want to catch me off guard with a lengthy text. She was always ..."
Anna,
Do you know what we have in common? A small hint: It's dark or bright, like sun and night. Bitter or sweet, to drink or to eat. Filled or not, cold or hot. Makes happy, not sad but accidentally fat.
That's an easy one, isn't it?
Enjoy!
E.
9.19.2004
"... Chocolate. The essence of my life. And finally, I was not alone with that anymore. While we both were quite different from each other, chocolate brought us together. I simply couldn't imagine how someone being as obsessed with this sweet drug as me, could have any ill meanings. As it turned out, I was completely right about this assumption..."
Dear E.,
So, uh, now it's my turn for a small letter. I mean I'm not a gifted writer, but I really want to thank you for the chocolate.
You are right, I love chocolate and could have easily devoured the whole bar. I wouldn't be able to live with myself though if I ate all of it, without offering you, as a fellow chocolate lover, at least a small piece. We "chocolate-obsessed" must stick together, so I just broke it into half and attached your part below.
A not so mysterious person.
9.20.2004
Ps: What's the reason in writing the date? I just used it just to copy your style.
"My first attempt at contact, excluding the empty sheets of paper I had left, was kind of clumsy. Like a newborn starting to walk but tripping over and over again, I just couldn't find the right words.
I was afraid of embarrassing myself next to the quality work I was given. My worries were even somewhat reasonable since I didn't get any new message for quite some time, regarding the usual regulatory of letters. The one I eventually got, however, was not only a letter. It was the letter..."
Dear Anna,
I hope you don't mind me copying your greeting. I wondered whether I could already write a bit more personal or not - well, you answered my unspoken question.
Now, let me return that favour by answering your question. I am what I'd call an organised person. Thus the date.
Not content yet? Well, no wonder since it's not the whole truth. I want to be honest with you, but at the same time, my instincts tell me not to be. In order not to risk anything, I should rather lie... I can't do that to you, though.
So now, completely honest and without any hidden meanings or half truths: In a few years, so I hope, you'll look back at how we've met and found these letters. Due to the dates, you can track how we've gotten together. That's the true reason behind the dates.
Now, before I forget, I really enjoyed the chocolate. Delicious, a taste of heaven. That's not to praise myself for the excellent choice I made (although I must admit, I'm really proud that I found honey-dipped raspberries, coated in chocolate as a chocolate bar...). I could speak of all kinds of chocolate in these words.
Your gesture, however, does not only show your generosity. It tells me that you take all my efforts serious. That's more than I have hoped.
Since you, apparently, are ready for the next stage of the relationship we'll take this step. But be warned, it's a large one, both for you and me. With only three words I'll change the connection we already have. They will work as the link to strengthen the bond that ties us together or as the axe to shatter what we've built.
Decide from your heart, that's the most important thing. More important even, than the actual decision. Take your time and listen inside your soul. You'll find the right path and it will lead to your future, either with me by your side or not.
I am Elsa
9.27.2004
"...Life really is something weird. There is no goal in life. So, why do we live?
I always tell myself, life is to enjoy. But how should we know what we really enjoy? We need experience. Without experiencing anything, you can't exactly enjoy much and without enjoying, life is somewhat useless.
How did I know back then that Elsa was perfect for me? Well, that's easy: By experiencing.
My list of relationships is not particularly long and before meeting Elsa it was even shorter. By one name at least. Not long, however, implies that it's not empty.
My previous relationships have all felt kind of...
... forced. I was young and naive and thought I would need a boy in my life... But there's no need to go into more details. To put them all in a nutshell, they have been a waste of time. I had missed this special feeling I always experienced while being around Elsa..."
Hi Elsa,
I feel that I need to write you for we can't exactly meet (yet) with me knowing not much more than your name.
So, your Elsa, huh. That's really one beautiful name. Not that common - I at least don't know any other Elsa, while I know 4 Annas, me not included - but I like the sound of it. I've spoken to myself, you know, that's how I realised the beauty in that name. Is that weird? Well, it probably is, but I don't care: That's how I am. But you already know that I suppose.
How comes you know so much about me, whereas I don't even know your full name?
Yesterday I tried to imitate your way of finding out about my name - just the other way round. Finding you, however, is quite difficult. Are you sure you're even at this school? I failed to find any evidence of your existence, not a single entry in the school's paper, no sports achievement, you didn't even participate in the school's writing contest.
Unfortunately, I've forgotten the password for the school network and had apparently lost the notepad on which I had written the code...
In your words: I am what I'd call an unorganised person. Chaos-incarnated.
Now, back to the topic again, before I start to ramble: The upshot was that I didn't find anything about you at all.
Now about us in general... Did you realise how I always retard the most important stuff till the very end? OK, you probably didn't since this is the first real letter from me for you. How could you possibly figure out my old habits from one single message... Granted, I am quite nervous right now, but that's not the reason for prolonging the inevitable. There is actually no reason for this custom, it just seems so natural to me...
And I'm digressing again... see my point now?
Anyway, let's go on with discussing our relationship.
Yes, I'd call this a relationship already. Some kind of correspondence with a pen friend. A bit deeper and more intense, though. I'm not a genius regarding relations, but we both are obviously interested in each other. Although we're both girls - or maybe because we're both girls. Why should we cut our connection? It would certainly hurt us both ( I hope you don't mind if I assume such a reaction from you, but your previous letters suggested an inference like this). I don't mind getting into a relationship with you and you, obviously, won't object either, so I see no further obstacle in our way.
I know this sounds quite straight-forward, but this is certainly due to my regards toward a relationship. For me, a new relationship is like an experiment, you test it, examine it and if it fails, well, then it's over. I never agree to a relationship that is binding me to the partner. In the beginning, I believe that a relation should have nothing forced or the like. Both should be able to leave without drastic consequences. Like this, a connection can be built far better, by maintaining absolute freedom. If a relationship begins with restrictions it cannot have a happy end.
But I want a happy end. Do you understand what I mean by that?
We don't know each other. I know nothing of you and even you don't really know me. Under other circumstances, I'd say this relationship is doomed to fail, but I have a feeling that we'll get really close. Maybe that's just a silly anticipation of happiness but I'm an optimist. And as an optimist, I see that our bond is already strong enough to tie us together and being is beyond this 'testing-phase'.
You already have a good influence on me. That's probably the longest text I've ever written... OK, the longest letter. The English exams always demand more words. I'm sure, though, that this is not a problem for you since you're a good writer.
For now, I'll eagerly wait for your response.
Anna
10.1.2004
Ps: I kind of like the idea of looking back at these letters and being able to get then into the right order. So I'll continue the date. I hope there will be loads and loads of letters
"... Elsa altered the course of my life. She was like a vortex, gently pulling my being towards her. And I surrendered myself - no, I even reached out to her. But it was still her who guided us through our relationship. Unbelievable, I know: Our shy Elsa taking over the reigns..."
Dear Anna,
I put your letter in the prettiest frame I could find. Now it decorates the wall next to my bed.
No, for real, these were by far the most important words anyone has ever told me - or rather the most important words anyone has ever written me.
Regardless of our way of communication, the purpose of the words is important. The meaning within and between the lines, that's relevant. I am quite fond of scripting and while I can't see into your mind (unfortunately), your style shows your own personal liking to writing. Even though you wouldn't admit that to yourself. Or to me.
It's funny what people think about their name. Other's are always rare or exotic or exceptional fitting to the person...
You know, we really shouldn't mind names so much. What does it tell you about a person? Nothing. Not even the slightest bit.
Who decided your name? Your parents. When did they decide it? When you were born. Or even before you were born: Some parents already agree on a name for each case, before they even know the baby's gender. The end of the story is that your actions influence who you are not your name. Is Shandriel Devine someone special because her name is definitely unique. No, she's not. But you, however, you're someone special to me. Regardless of your name. It suits you by the way and being a common name only shows that it was tried and trusted.
Hey, do you remember that I wanted to make you a game? Well, I made one:
You said you'd want to meet me if you know more about me? Well, OK, let's do this.
I always hated the characterizations of oneself we were assigned at exceptional bad English lessons. Now, however, it's different: no guideline, just a goal.
So most importantly I LOVE chocolate. That's how I describe myself in one sentence. An eighteen years old chocolate lover.
So, the most important stuff is said. But of course, I like more than chocolate - even if, from a scale from one to ten, chocolate would have 15 points.
I absolutely adore animals. It doesn't matter what kind of animal. Although I prefer animals with fur - you can bury your head in their hair and forget everything around you, just focusing on the animal you're clutching.
Did you know that bird-spiders are actually quite fluffy? As a child I couldn't stand spiders - I wouldn't even dare go close to them in order to chase them away. Then, with twelve or so, my parents take me into a spider-therapy. Just imagine a bunch of fat, hairy spiders crawling all over your body...
... No, it wasn't like that, fortunately. Just one bird-spider and that one actually were cute. And so fluffy 'squeal'.
Yeah, animals are my domain. I have a pet cat at home, Smiley. She's a real cutie once you get used to her.
So, what more about me? Oh yes, I absolutely cannot stand crowds or crowded places especially if they are small. But even large halls filled with people unsettle me. But who cares so much about fears if there are so many more mysteries to reveal?
I grew up as an only child, but always kind of wished me a little sister. Well, that's not my choice to make.
Sooo, I feel kind of weird writing about myself. There's so much more to tell you, but I'd like to do that in person. Letters are good I've you can't speak to each other, but talking is actually the better method.
I recall your fear of being a bit too fast and too... vague. Honestly, your view of relationships is somehow strange - but what would I know without having experienced any relationship at all - though understandable.
Now it's my turn to speed things up a bit. Let's meet after school at some point this week. I'd like that.
Answer soon, please, but not hasty.
Elsa
10.2.2004
Ps: I also hope for many many letters!
"... You cannot say it was love at first sight from my side. So I was naturally sceptical in the beginning: A romantic relationship based on letters? Well, that's certainly not so common.
When we met, however, all wariness disappeared..."
Dear Anna,
The weather is going crazy. It's SNOWING hard. In October.
Let's change our plan and meet today. Do you want to build a snowman?
I'll wait for you just outside, you cannot miss me...
Elsa
10.5.2004
Disclaimer: Characters are based on Disney's "Frozen". The plot is mine.
Part 2
"... We don't see the tragedy anymore, that happens around us. Each day, no matter where we go, someone's life is lost and with this loss, others suffer. We ignore the pain surrounding us; don't know of the despair we're unconsciously facing. But one day, the time will come that tragedy falls upon ourselves. When this day comes, we're not prepared. We'll never be. This day has already come to us. 13 days prior being exact. Always the cursed number thirteen. Now, thirteen days later, our life will never be the same again..."
Dear Elsa,
I hope you'll read these words soon, with me together, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. The really dark one, you know, with these tiny coconut flakes you like so much. We would sit together, cuddling and drinking chocolate like we have done so often. It would be as if nothing ever happened.
I can envision this situation coming alive: I'd pour the hot, sweet delicacy inside the cups. You'd have the white one of course, with the blue snowflakes like always and mine would be green with yellow stars.
One single glance at you and my gaze would be captured by your gloriously blue eyes. You'd smile and move closer until your nose would graze mine. Our lips would meet as we'd close the remaining gap and I'd gently nibble at your lower lip. A soft purr would escape your lips and we'd hold each other even closer. Entangled like this we'd fall asleep on the soft sofa. Beneath the blanket, I'd unconsciously huddle up to you being drawn the warmth of your body like moths to light.
This is not only a hopeful thought but a vision for the future. A prediction. We will spend more time together. Do we let our love subside only because of one incident? No, we're stronger than fate, destiny or whatever tries to control our life.
Please, come back to me.
Love, Anna.
12.8.2006
"... Somehow she always knew what I wanted to do, sometimes before I even started thinking about it. She was, in fact, the powerhouse behind our relationship. I kind of relied on her, relied on her care, her sympathy and her wisdom. And at the same time, she depended on me as well. 'As an anchor.' She would say. 'To keep me safe during the wild storms of life, as a pillar to steady the world that is my life, as a lover to give me what makes my life worth living.' Always a poet.
That last part was most important for both of us. She was like a drug for me. I know, it's common to compare a lover with some sort of drug - though only now I really understand the meaning of these words. I was addicted to her, felt like a day was wasted if not spent with her...
... What should I do, now that's she's gone ..."
Hey Elsa,
I miss you. I mean, I see you every day, while you, on the other hand, do not, but I think you know how I feel. It's sort of how you must have felt before we've met. You had watched me, while I had been oblivious of your identity. You had seen me, but contact had been impossible.
Are you even aware of my presence? I can't tell since your not showing any sign at all. Well, it's not your choice, I know you would respond if you could...
Do you feel my touch? Hands braiding your beautiful hair, lips kissing your forehead - it would be awkward if I'd kiss you on the lips with you being unable to kiss back. Can you feel my hands caressing yours? It feels so normal to me and then, at the same time, so very strange. Your skin is cold, too cold to be healthy, and pale. Even more than usual. As if your hands were frozen. But I can't thaw them.
It's cruel, you know. How our life is always being controlled by someone else. You try to be in charge of your own life, but somehow somebody still interferes with the self-made Master-Plan.
My life had been normal. Plain, but normal. School and cheerleading training, an occasional date with some guy I hadn't liked anyway. That had used to be my life. I had been in control and everything had gone as planned. My goal: Graduating with good grades, then applying at a university.
Then your first letter arrived followed by many others and within a month my entire life was in chaos. Wise people see a system in chaos, but not me. I'm not a wise person. What I saw was just a mess, an abundance of emotion, scholastic pressure, confusion and self-doubt. All triggered by a chain of events, starting with a single letter.
I needed to sort this mess out, and so I did. With you. Together. We faced the obstacles that our relationship has caused and emerged united and stronger than before. We found a perspective in each other, something - or rather someone - else worth living for.
I would never complain about this change in my life. Who would, if it has changed for the better? But it's not always like that. I see that now.
I wonder what God is thinking as he is planning something like this. 'Mmh, today I'm bored... Oh, I got it, I'll just throw this car at the young couple.'
Or is there a pattern behind these apparent arbitrary actions? Some sort of balance? Anything positive needs to be compensated by a negative event? That would be sad. Imagine it, no real happiness because you'd always know that some tragedy will eventually happen. Maybe not directly following, but it would be inevitable. The happier one is, the deeper one is doomed to fall.
Could you live like this? I couldn't, that's for sure. I would be always depressed: If something bad happens, well then it's certainly not good. And if something good happens then it's also somehow bad because it's the sign that tragedy is about to unfold.
No, a life like this would not suit me. Granted, it would give hope in some situations - an accident would also be a sign that something better will happen; eventually - but I'd still choose a possibly insecure life, but with hope and freedom, over a life in which everything is planned by destiny and co.
Woah, since when am I a philosopher? I never used to think in such a depth about life. I mean, life just is. It exists. There's not much to worry about.
I believe the accident has changed me more than it appeared to have. I'm more grateful for what life has to offer and don't take everything for granted anymore. I think you know what I mean: You're walking alongside a street and expect everything to run smoothly. You simply don't think about what could happen. But if you spend a moment considering, then you realise all the possible dangers that could happen:
Someone might bump into you and push you on the street - accidentally or not - in front of a car whose driver is either not absolutely attentive or just too slow to act or simply unable to prevent the accident.
A truck might lose its cargo which could - theoretically - crash at you.
A drunken driver loses control over his vehicle and runs you over...
Anyone else would probably wonder who the heck is such a pessimist to even think about all these possibilities. The answer, is someone who personally experienced such an accident.
The probability to get hit by a car at daytime while crossing a little-used road at the pedestrian lights, as they signal safe crossing for walkers is not exactly high. Still, you lay here, in the hospital, and wouldn't wake up.
Maybe the theory of a balanced life with equal luck and misfortune really is true and the good part of all this is that I'm more aware of the dangers we face in everyday life while cherishing the beauty of what I used to take for granted.
But if that's all, I'm really disappointed. You being in such a heavy accident should at least be worth worldwide peace and wealth. If not even more.
And when you wake up we can see if there really is no war anymore. That would be a clear proof for the theory.
Fight it. For you, for me, for life. Don't give up, don't submit. I'm waiting for you. Your life is waiting for you. The whole world is waiting for you.
Please wake up soon.
Many, many kisses
Your Anna.
12.9.2006
"... We all know Elsa. Our kindhearted, selfless Elsa, always doing what's best for others. I still remember when we first met and probably will never forget. That was the moment that I realised, she would never, ever hurt me. Consciously..."
My dear Elsa,
yesterday I kissed you.
I know, I said I would not, but I couldn't hold myself back anymore. You're laying here as if sleeping, eyes shut close - your wonderful eyes sealed from the world - hair braided into a single braid, just as you like it - I must confess, I played with your hair and braided it afterwards...
But anyways, back to the kiss. I thought of this fairytale, snow-white. The girl's trapped in an eternal slumber and the lover comes to the rescue and awakens her with a kiss. It's so tempting to simply lower the head and kiss you. So I just did it. But unfortunately, it's not called a fairytale for nothing because you did not wake up. Obviously.
Oh yes, before I forget to tell you, the doctor has said it's good to talk to you. He explained that people in a comatose state are presumed to be able to listen although they are practically unable to move. That's called...Actually, I've forgotten how it was called. Some complicated Latin term - I've always hated the Latin lessons at school. To choose them over French was the worst decision in my life.
Anyway, I've started to read out the letters loudly. Maybe you hear them and, hopefully, enjoy them. And if not...
Well, we need to try everything to figure out what might work. At least I'm good with this. Talking I mean, I could always chatter with anyone about anything for as long as I wanted, and even longer
By the way, your doctor's name is Mr.Servenhuber. He's an Austrian specialist in matters of cerebral dysfunction. He is the main surgeon in this area and had saved your life after the car crash. Now you just need to wake up.
I'm quite curious how it feels like to be in a coma. Don't misunderstand me because I know it might sound weird, but you really need to tell me when you wake up. Do you really hear everything that's spoken around you? Or is it like sleeping for a very long time. I want to know and you'll wake up to tell me.
I know your strong, stronger than the coma. Defeat it. I believe in you.
Lots and lots of love and even more kisses,
Anna
12.10.2006
"... Can you imagine how much it has hurt to sit next to her unmoving form, holding her hand and reading out stories aloud while waiting for her to wake up? No one without actual experience knows what thoughts pass one's mind when the beloved person is slowly dying right next to you. Of course, the natural reaction is to deny the possible outcome which includes the victory of death, but unconsciously you know that time is against you. The longer the coma lasts, the lower the chances to recover. Not even speaking about a complete recovery. When the brain is shut down for such a long time, the damage dealt to it is immense. A full recovery is nearly impossible. Though waking up would have been enough at that time.
It was a miracle Elsa even survived the crash and the transfer to the hospital. A second one was the presence of a specialist like Mr Servenhuber who has saved Elsa's life on several occasions. And a third miracle was necessary for Elsa to wake up. A miracle that was never fulfilled ..."
Beloved Elsa,
don't mind the wet spots ruining the paper. I'm crying as I'm writing this. You died.
And you were revived. Again. How much can someone take, I wonder, how much till someone can't be rescued anymore. 'It was close.' the doctors said. They've nearly lost you, they said. I have nearly lost you.
I think you deserve to know about that. It's what you've earned for fighting long, so hard. The least I can do is to write down everything you've missed.
Your mother was present as it happened. We have been sitting right next to you, holding your hands - I took your left one while your mother caressed your right - and talked to each other when it happened. Everything went so fast. The heart monitor suddenly freaked out and the beeping became unbearable. A bunch of doctors quickly rolled your bed into the surgery room and closed the door. It would stay shut for the next three hours or so.
Please remind me not to stay near your mother when she's on the brink of a mental breakdown. That's not exactly a nice experience I can tell you. My left arm still has some red marks in form of her hands...
But I can understand her reaction. I would have done the same if my arms were free from her grasp. It surely was not a great moment, sitting outside the surgery room, waiting desperately for someone to exit, smiling at us and reassuring all is fine again.
And finally, after some hours feeling like ages, Mr.Servenhuber approached us, smiling and trekking that all is fine again. It somehow felt unreal, the whole situation. Like in a movie. This all was somehow surreal, the thought of losing you forever...
Let's stop here. All is fine now and I'm back at stroking your hand while reading aloud. Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella were today's topic. Don't ask how I know that you like fairytales even as a nearly adult. Your mother told me about your secret affection towards myths and fables.
In fact, your mother is a really talkative person when you get to know her better. She went on about your childhood and told me some funny stuff you've never told me - though it's understandable since some were really embarrassing.
Like at your enrollment in elementary school: You suddenly knelt down and picked something up. Then you turned around and proudly shouted: "I've found an ant, I've found an ant!".
These were good times, without worries or doubts about the future. As children, we all were different people in the same skin.
Did you know that you had loved to play with flowers as a child? You'd sit for hours in the garden and pick the petals from the blooming blossoms. The petals you'd collect in the folds of your dress then spread them in the whole house. That must have been a nice sight, a young Elsa sitting inside a field of blossoms surrounded by petals of different colours...
That probably was the longest talk I've ever carried with your mother. But it still felt like I've known her for ages, not only a bit more than a year. We could talk about everything: school, childhood experiences, we even somehow drifted to politics - I don't know how we did that, but this discussion was over quite quickly since none of us is really interested in the politician's game.
I really wonder what has changed over the time. Do you remember the day when you presented me to your parents for the first time? Your mother seemed to hate me for some reason. I can still feel her piercing eyes on me. If looks could kill, it'd be me in your position now. But fortunately, she had only pierced me with her gaze and not literally.
Still, I have asked myself many times what the reason of her initial dislike had been. It could not have been us being in a lesbian relationship. You said you had already told her about our relation and she hadn't minded at all, but even encouraged you to invite me over.
Had her hostility been some sort of test whether I'd break and therefore not be suited as your lover? Or rather without her having any ulterior motive, but simply distaste for me?
I really don't know and probably will never for I'm definitely not going to asks your mother. That would simply be weird.
Imagine the situation:"Hey, Mrs Frost, I have a question: Why did you hate me so much when you first met me?"
That would be funny. But only in retrospect.
Well, I don't know why and if I'm honest, it doesn't even bother me. It was in the past so...
Forgiven and forgotten.
I just know that you'll be fine again, regardless of what the doctors say. Hope is a better medicine than any chemical drug and love cures everything.
I love you.
Your Anna
PS: Now it's exactly 12:12 and...Well, 15 seconds... Sadly.
12.12.2006
"... What does someone feel in a coma? I have no idea and I think I don't even want to know anymore. It's because of how you get the information: by experiencing. I don't want to experience any other case of comatose..."
Huhu Elsa,
I'm happy today. Do you want to know why? ... well I don't care if you want to know, I'll just tell you:
You moved today. I touched your arm - actually, I rubbed your hands with lotion- and you flinched away from the cold liquid. Mr.Servenhuber believes that's a good sign. If your natural reflexes are able to react, you're close to waking up. Honestly, he sounded quite surprised although he tried to conceal it. I, however, am not. I have always known you'll wake up. The earlier the better, but better a bit later than not at all. And you've been in a coma for only seven days. I mean, of course, missing a whole week is terrible, but I've heard of people waking from several years of coma. One day they'd just wake up and wonder where they were. Most of them are living a normal life now, having fully recovered from their accident. Your chance is even higher since it decreases the longer you're asleep. And if you wake up now, we could even celebrate Christmas together. Sure, it would be in the hospital, but after what happened last year, that might even be better.
I remember this moment as if it has been just yesterday. The fun, the cold wind blowing against the warmth of the skin, my goosebumps... Then the crack and the sudden, unexpected freezing sensation. All went dark around me, so fast I couldn't even react. Freezing cold water surrounded me and the only source of light was the translucent layer of ice covering the surface of the lake.
And then I saw you. You had lost your beanie so your platinum hair flowed felt around you - you had decided against your usual braid - as if you were standing in a storm. Your blue eyes seemed to blaze in the dark, focused only on your aim. Me. Arms stretched out, you grasped my equally outstretched arms and pulled me upwards, towards the surface.
You've saved my life back then, risking your own to bring me back. Do you know what I thought of as I saw you jumping after my sinking form? An angel from heaven sent by the lord to save me. And that you did.
I can only stress over and over again that it was still one of my best Christmas-celebrations although we spent the rest of the day in the small room of a hospital - quite similar to yours actually: A bed - one of these high-tech ones with lots of cool additional stuff - a small table and a chair - your room has three chairs - a locked window but with fantastic sight over the city. The hospital sure has a perfect position, hovering over the city granting the patients a phenomenal view, given they can move to the window...
This year's Christmas could be similar. This time we could actually bring the presents to the hospital and both of our families will come and we'll sit together laughing and being happy... That would be a dream coming true.
Let us make this dream reality.
Love and kisses and love and more kisses and love and even more kisses...
Anna
12.13.2006
"... Life is not always what we expect it to be. Usually, something unexpected happens at some point and brings either huge changes or less important ones. Especially at a younger age, such unexpected turns are hard to deal with, because you are focused too much on certain details than on the whole situation. And of some of these details does not fit, the everything is falling apart. Elsa has been a part of our life and still is as she lives on in our hearts. Without her, my life is falling apart.
My world could be compared with a building: it's built on pillars of different strength. All these pillars are necessary though or the construction will collapse. Elsa has been this one pillar in the centre. Break it and you'd break me. It's not yet broken and I doubt that it'll ever be. Through Elsa, the pillar is steady and can support itself. Without Elsa, instability will be inevitable but the thoughts of her love strengthen it until it is eventually rebuilt. That's one more thing to add to the list of what Elsa had done for me..."
Elsa,
I'm truly sorry if you've missed my company (I don't know whether you even realise me being around you all the time), but the doctors have forbidden any contact to you. "The danger of a possible infection is too high so we cannot risk her life by letting anyone without special protective suit close to her..." Blah blah blah. It sounds as if you have some kind of deadly, highly contagious disease. Don't worry, you don't.
Truth to be told, their precautions are probably the best way to ensure your health, but it... Well, it just sucks to be separated from you for such a long time. (Before you ask, they've done another surgery on you, to repair the rest of the physical damage the car caused).
I don't want to be separated from you any longer. And I know you feel the same, that's why the two of us have decided to move together when we start University.
While I couldn't be with you, I've spent quite some time researching fitting apartments near a university that'd suit us (it would need to have architecture as a subject for you). My dream subject? Well, actually I'm not sure yet. Nothing technical, though. I know I confirm this stereotype about women and mechanics... But I don't care. I'll rather drift more in the direction of psychology. Or maybe I'll become a nurse (that, of course, would not be an actual subject to study, but it would give me a direction). I want to do something to help the people, I believe that's my purpose. Trying to make other people happy, to make them enjoy live much as I do.
I want to make you happy, to see you smile and laugh, to hold you in my arms and walk hand in hand. We could spend eternities together and it would still not be enough. A shared flat would be a start, though, the beginning of a hopefully long journey that will bring us closer and closer until we are one...
I hate myself for digressing so often...
So, back to the university. I found some at least, that would fit our expectations. I also tried to respect your wish for a smaller university without so many students, so I, first of all, excluded the big, famous universities and focused more on the many minor schools.
There still is an incredible amount of them scattered all over the country. It's as if each larger city needs at least a small one to proclaim it's status. That's what it looks like at least. I bet most of them are totally in need of students since I can't believe there are that many undergraduates. This I have no doubt that we'll get a place easily. I still think though that we should just apply for many different varsities. We would want anything unexpected to happen, would we? If we sent our application to the universities as soon as possible, nothing can stop us from getting accepted! Hopefully...
Well, next point on my list is a place to live. Yes, I copied your method of getting things organised. Granted, my list is still somewhat empty - "university" and "accommodation" are actually not a complete list - but I don't care. Everyone begins small so my list is not that long either. Now I don't mean with that I deliberately made a small list just to begin small. It's only that I didn't know any more things to put on that list. You'd probably known more, but then it would be your list, not mine...
I'm rambling again. I write what I think and my mind is somewhat unfocused right now... OK, that's an excuse. I'm always rambling even while talking. Or rather especially when I'm talking. That's only logical since I'm also talking what I think. Regardless whether I write or talk, the words I form are coming from my mind and with my weird brain... weird things are the result.
And no, I won't comment on that part of rambling...
So back again... Accommodation is the real problem. The current housing situation sure is not that great. Especially around the better-known varsities, empty flats are scarce and the ones not occupied are empty for a reason (I won't go into more details. That would be rather disgusting). You can also forget the campus dormitories. The ones I concentrated on are all full - crowded would be a more fitting word, though.
The problem with the available places is the price. We apparently live in a very expensive country regarding rents. Our parents might help us out, but finding a job is inevitable in the long run. But I'm sure we'll manage that somehow and it sure is worth the trouble. Imagine it, living, actually living with each other. Right now it feels rather unreal, but not much longer and this will be the reality, not only our desire.
After your recovery, we could start looking for a fitting university together. You and me strolling through cities to find a place to live and of course a place to study.
So, wake up soon.
I love you!
Anna
12.15.2006
"...I hate to change plans. Especially a plan that was supposed to be brilliant. Elsa and I, we have already planed our future. And now, all that's left are lists, documents and ideas. It's common believe that hope dies last. Well, that's true, I had still hope till the last day. But the saying also implicates that hope will eventually die. What's left of your bright future together lays in ruin, abandoned due to its uselessness. You can't live with a dead person. Is impossible. So planning to do so does not help at all. I need to accept that she is gone and will never return. I need to move on. But it's so very difficult..."
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...
You're 22 years young now. I'd say: Your life is just beginning. So, wake up and enjoy it!
I baked you a cake... but I fear no one's gonna taste it. It's your cake and no one else should eat from it without your confirmation. Also, none of us wants a cake right now.
I'd love to tell you how everyone is happy and dancing and having fun... But I won't lie to you. We're celebrating the saddest birthday in my life - and probably also in yours - without the one who actually is becoming officially one year older. They won't allow us in your room. Again. And with 'they' I mean Mr Servenhuber. He said he needed some tests to be done, thus... No entrance for the next 48 hours except for staff.
Puuh, that's not a nice thing to say at birthday morning. He couldn't know, though. Or at least I hope he didn't. Otherwise... Well, let's just say, I'd be really angry. REALLY angry. And I'd not be alone. Your mother had looked as if she had wanted to choke the doctor as he told us his plans. She had begged to at least give us an hour - eventually we could force thirty minutes out of him - which we spent with you - well, as much with you as we could. Everybody was present, your mother, your father, your aunt - Griselda if I remember her name correctly - and me. Even my parents came, though a few minutes too late so they were not allowed into your room anymore.
Still, the small room was quite crowded with all theses people visiting you and celebrating your birthday. Though the celebration was pretty boring - well, what can you expect from a birthday party in a hospital during which the birthday child is not awake - thus it didn't take the crowd that long to dissipate.
Next year, we'll come up with something really awesome to outbalance what we - especially you - missed today. And hopefully, snow will fall till then.
The weather is awful right now, the sun has yet to show itself, the wind turned out to be a full-grown storm and it's raining. A single degree above zero and it's raining. I hate rain. You know, rain is just wet. Cold and wet. But unlike snow, which is also cold and wet, rain is missing this beauty you can find in the snow. Think of rain: Fat wet drops falling from the sky, splashing on the ground, creating puddles and soak your clothes. And with the rain, a melancholic atmosphere spreads throughout the country. Thoughts of happiness, fun and love are not associated with rain. Sadness, sorrow and pain are the emotions displayed by falling liquid water.
Now imagine snow: Wide lands, covered in snow. Frozen rivers, icicles being ornaments on balconies, smoke rising from the chimneys everywhere in the city, a sign that the people have it warm.
That's the way winter should be, not as triste as it is now.
How can you build a snowman when rain falls. Imagine a year without Olaf. What a terrible thought. No ice-skating or snowball fights. Winter is just soooo boring without snow.
Do you think it's a coincidence that snow is gone just like you are? Would your waking bring the snow back? Hopefully, it will.
Please wake up. Please.
Anna
12.16.2006
"... I remember this one day as if it was just yesterday. When I close my eyes, my vision shows me her chamber: Her fragile form covered with a while blanket, face pale as snow. Her hair is undone, hiding her cheeks. Her eyes are closed as is her mouth, a hint of a smile caressing her lips.
The sun is shining and rays of radiant gold meet her hair, creating a beautiful spectacle of light. She seems to be glowing, a light sent by heaven. Like an angel, a fallen, abandoned angel.
I'm stroking her hair, savouring the soft tickling sensation on my hands. My lips touch her cold forehead, then her nose and settle down on her own lips.
I remove my shoes and crawl underneath the blanket holding her close. Because I suddenly I know: I would never, ever see her again..."
Elsa, my love,
it's been a while since I last wrote you. But I needed time. Time to understand. Time to accept. This will be my last one. My last words directed to you.
Who am I fooling? My words of hope were all lies. Yes, they spoke of my dreams, of miracles and of desire. I wanted them to be the light surrounded by darkness; a gleam of hope burning infinitely. But nothing is for eternity the flame needed fuel to burn. The fuel was your life. As long as you live, the spark of hope will not die. Or so I thought.
Hope can be shattered too easily. Four words were enough and everything crumbled around me.
She won't make it.
Four words and my world collapse around me. Four words to release all my fears. I can't take it anymore.
I can't imagine the world without you. What will happen to me once you're gone? Will I ever recover from this loss? Can I ever love again without fear of losing the person closest to me? Or will I forget about you? Slowly pushing you to the back of my mind, into the abyss of my thoughts?
That last one is what I fear most. Somehow, I'll be able to love on, continue my life. I'm sure of that. But forgetting you would be like forgetting my own soul. You're a part of me. An important one. Losing you will shatter that part. But forgetting you will leave a hole in my heart that cannot be refilled.
I'm a selfish person, only going on about how hard life will be for me, while I'm the actual lucky one. I'll live. Regardless of how my life will look like in future, it will be a life nonetheless. I don't know what's waiting for you. Paradise? A being without pain and sorrow, eternal happiness and contentment?
What sort of life would that be - well, not a 'life' since death makes that impossible? Without the memories of your real life, your former being.
Memories lead to sorrow. Can you imagine living in another world and be happy while knowing who you've left behind? Can someone be truly happy if they know that their families are gone, their loved ones still alive, separated from them by death - their own death?
No, memories cannot allow true happiness. You need to forget in order to be happy.
A great life that will be, in paradise with a god who
1. Throws a car at you.
2. Abandons you as you're dying.
3. Takes away all your memories.
OK, granted, eternal happiness is great and all, but what of everything you have left to reach that? You choosing one over another will always make you unhappy. The choice, though, is not in our hands, but in gods.
Maybe, you'll be reborn. Although, if you get reborn based on your former life... you'd deserve something higher than a human. Is there something higher?
I can only speculate on what happens after death. There just is no prove. The dead can't speak. Unfortunately. I've still got so much to tell you. But the dead can't hear.
I know, I sound like a pessimistic person. Talking - or rather writing - about death. Not the usual last words.
People say hope dies last. But eventually, hope will die. This morning the doctors killed it. Murdered it with the knives of their words.
Hope really is something strange. How can you describe hope? The feeling of... of what? I think hope shows you the own only hope, real hope, is what you feel in the depth of your soul. I see two different kinds of hope: one being equal to desire and 'wanting very much'. That's the one everyone has experience with. "I hope that I'm not failing this class" or "Hopefully the train won't be late."
With this sort of hope, the heart is silent, but the brain is talking. You realise that the object of your hope might be inconvenient. Nothing more though. Missing the train is unfortunate, but not terrible. A bad note is impractical, but hey; life goes on.
It's different with this second type of hope: "I hope you'll be fine." or "I hope I'll see you again."
If not fulfilled, it would not be inconvenient. It will be a disaster. The world's end, at least for you. Your heart will shatter if the loved one moves away, to another country, and it's obvious none of you has the means to visit each other.
What if the loved one is seriously ill, not beyond recovery, but serious enough that the chances of recovery are slim. You hope for recovery, pray for health, spend days and nights with the loved one. That kind of hope mirrors your heart. All other desires seem unimportant next to it.
The nature of my hope was like this. Based on my love for you, fed by the reassurance of the doctors, preserved by countless days spent with you and eventually taken from me by the very doctors who had promised me all will be fine.
They are liars, though I think they are all like this. And actually, it's fine, because by being optimistic they give hope. Hope that is lost if they fail, replaced by anger. How could they let the loved one die?
Rage is filling you although you know, deep inside of you, that being angry is so stupid. Now, anger is a strong feeling and suppresses most others. When you're angry you don't have to deal with your pain, your sorrow, your despair. For a short while, you can push these feelings aside, in the background, and focus solely on your rage. It's easier than coping with the sorrow. Because dealing with your pain is so very hard.
I'll cherish every single moment I've spent with you, the good ones as well as the bad ones. I'll cherish them for the rest of my life.
You'll live on even if you die. You'll live in my heart for I'll retain the memories of you for eternity. The letters are your legacy. Your deed for the world. You've written these messages with your heart and forged a piece of your own soul into it. This part will always be with me.
I hope you can forgive me for being such a pessimist. Believe me; I'd want nothing more than you to tell me what a fool I am. Really. Because that would mean, you'd be awake and fine enough to lecture me. It's time to get realistic, though. To face my fears. I cannot continue believing in the miracle I hoped for. I cannot. As hard as it is, I must let go of the thoughts of your survival, I must let go of you or it will destroy me.
Fare well, Elsa, wherever your journey leads you. I know you'll eventually find happiness.
I love you and always will.
Anna
12.19.2006
"… The saddest moment in my life was not her death. No, at this point, I knew the inevitable would come sooner or later. The saddest moment in my life was the time as I realised, hope is not enough to bring her back. You can only stay strong as long as your hope lives within you. Without hope, you'll crumble. All strength will leave you when you finally realise that all this time you've been lying to yourself.
Her funeral took place the day before Christmas Eve, the 23 of December. Only two days prior her death was announced. She had departed peacefully, overnight.
It was a cold day, typical for the season. Everyone stood, cloaked in a black or dark blue coat, around the empty grave. Her body was hidden from view inside a light blue coffin as her parents requested it. Elsa had always favoured the colour blue as it had reminded her of the glacier she had visited as a child. Now, embedded in a coffin of ice-blue painted wood she is finally resting in peace.
Elsa had never been a firm believer in god, however, her parents insisted on a traditional burial ceremony. As the coffin was slowly lowered inside the deepness of the grave, a first snowflake announced the winter's true arrival. A second one followed, then a third and before the coffin hit the ground, heaven's gates opened and blessed the world with all the beauty snow can offer."
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