Seventeen.

There were seventeen holes occupying the tile of the ceiling she stared up at. She had no idea where she was, or how long she had been there. In truth she had probably been staring for longer than was made known to her.

My arms. Limp.

Try as she might, her limbs were made of lead. She felt immovable.

My head.

In her mind, she gasped.

I can't turn it.

Her eyes roamed about frantically, but she couldn't see anything else other than a dull light cast on the room.

Am I dreaming?

This wasn't an alien experience to her. Sometimes she awoke in the night amidst a bad dream, staring madly about the nightmarish world sans bodily movement. But this was different.

As her eyes adjusted, she could see very slight shiftings of a form against the light.

I'm not alone. I'm definitely not alone.

She finally felt something resembling a sensation—a pillow on the back of her head.

Oh, so I'm in bed.

But I can't move.

And this isn't my room.

She was frantic. She knew she was. But she also knew that whatever was in the room with her, it couldn't be that bad. She once again tried to move herself, her limbs proving to be recalcitrant.

It then occurred to her that she couldn't hear at all. Literally. She had occasional hearing blasts, mostly from loud concerts; nothing like this, however.

Does this make me deaf and dumb, then?

She was prone to humor herself even in harrowing situations. Something vaguely resembling a giggle resonated in her mind's ear.

How tall am I?

She couldn't help but notice the shadows shifting, believing their source couldn't be too far away.

5 foot.

She felt her eyes widen at the realization. From what little she knew about geometry and science, she understood that shadows and their shapes could be obscured by a light source. She would sometimes delight herself at night with shadow puppets, sometimes with friends, but usually just to herself, always making note of the funny shapes you could make. These shapes, however—

Too close.

Now she knew. Tracing the walls, noticing the glaring light from a lamp behind and to the left of her head, the shadows were being cast ever-so-slightly up and outward. Having thought about it briefly, it seemed like the lamp was lower than the shifting figure. But who would have a lamp close to the ground? Wasn't it normal to clamp it on the bed frame or something? But then she figured lightly, crunching imaginary numbers in her head, and found the truth.

It's on the bed with me, righting herself, no.. they!

Two shadows. Two shifting forms probably at the foot of the bed. Their shadows appeared to dance on the wall whilst shecowered in terror. Still unable to will her limbs to do her bidding, her eyes danced beneath their lids. Come on, Anna. This is just a dream, you know it. Just open your eyes and it'll be all gone (Seriously, there's no way it could be that bad). Fuck!

The trick didn't work. Let's just try it again. Okay, now! Shit! It wasn't going to work. Ugh, now I feel like I'm gonna be sick. She tried to move her head but it felt heavier than her book bag on final exam day.

Well, this is happening.

She just wished that could wake up in her room, put on some slippers and watch some TV with a warm cup of coffee to start the morning, and then she'd call Kristoff and tell him about how Merida had just broken up with some weirdo last week (Maybe I could go hang out with Meg!).Or she'd try and see how Punzelton was doing with her own freshman year amidst the craziness (She always hated that nickname, but she looks so cute annoyed!).

What the hell's going on!? I can't move, it feels like I'm about to get eaten by monsters, and I don't even know where I am! She then realized something that she hadn't thought about. What day is it even? It was like staring through soup, and not her favorite chicken noodle kind, either. Is this the world's worst hangover?

She could see herself in the running now: a bunch of people getting stone-ass drunk and then passing out. The judging would consist of how incoherent everyone was when they got up, and they might even poke them to see if they could feel it. What could they even say for me? What's that term? Dead as a dick—duck—dock? What the hell am I even talking about…

Her self-admonition got through somehow. For the first time in the past few minutes, she felt that familiar sensation of her stomach heaving involuntarily and chuckles easing out. Just barely. She still couldn't hear anything (I mean anything!)—and then her half-open eyes fell to the forms, actually noticing them.

Are these even my eyes? She felt like she was legally blind, for crying out loud. It had been at least 10 minutes, if even that, but it seemed like fair enough a time for the ole vision to kick in.

Okay, so maybe she hadn't really noticed them. They appeared as malformed blobs to her. 20/20 my ass. If this doesn't clear up within moments, I'm seeing the eye doctor.

So she tried as hard as she could, straining her eyes to see what they looked like, maybe even who they were. But the more she tried, she became faintly aware of a strange wetness in her eyes. The thought made no sense at all, thinking that she was crying as if the scene was so beautiful or something.

Oh, thats right. At least I can feel them now.

Stomach, chest, eyes, and the back of her head—four parts of a whole body she could feel. Anna Sean Stephens, you've really got some work to do. She wanted to bring her hand up and stifle her nonexistent laugh. Yep. Can't do that.

"You.. notice.. drunk?"

Her ears almost tried to do a double take. Holy Hell I actually heard something! Something about drinks? She tried to tune everything out and just try to listen to whatever was going on.

"Spike.. worked.. night."

Okay, yeah, that's a TV station. They work when I want some action from time to time at night—wait, that came out wrong!

She didn't feel it right now, so the silliness would need to just hold the phone while she got to work on hearing whatever these weird voices were saying.

"Never.. coming."

Um… What. The. Fuck?

"All.. ourselves."

Not that she could see it, but her face was as red as a Valentine's rose, the coloration having spread rather quickly at the word. Now that she thought about it, and being able to see somewhat more clearly, she noticed that they were both positioned beneath her, and one of them (At least, I think that's one of them…) seemed to be sandwiched between a layering of cream.

Oh, so I can almost feel my head now, she thought as she could obtain a few different vantage points by moving it. That's just perfect.

Thoughts about yesterday slowly bubbled up to the surface. Was I wearing khakis or something? Remembering, rather, knowing that she was prone on a bed seemed to suggest that she was out wearing something casual to what was likely a casual event. I always wear jeans to work… It was part of her uniform at the bowling alley to which she was employed, though she had always disliked the feeling of super snug clothing, so she decided to be the odd one out most of the time and go khaki when off the clock.

Kristoff had mentioned a party a few days back. Said something about getting an invite from Hans. Ugh. Suddenly the memories came together like a chain. Okay so it was at Ariel's cuz it was post-prom and she was only a senior in high school and wanted to celebrate. Oh yeah and it was casual. Not like that bit mattered. She had only ever borrowed and/or rented a dress. My prom sucked, anyway.

A picture came together in her mind of a black and grey checkered scarf, a green tank top with Link from Zelda on it and some khaki pants, bottomed out by her favorite suede Pumas. In other words, the essence of tacky (Don't judge!).

It had been a rather boring night, honestly. All the assholes from the football team were there, only some of which she remembered because she had graduated that past year. The food was pretty good: nachos, chips, chocolate-covered pretzels, some other crap and then a big-ass punch bowl. Passion Fruit flavor, wasn't it? The night was coming back.

Thats right! They were all there last night!

While it wasn't her whole circle of friends, Rapunzel, Kristoff and Merida were certainly there. Aurora just kinda sat in the corner looking like she was about to doze off, Snow White was practically being harassed by some kids who probably shouldn't have been invited, and Belle had to shoo away at least 10 creepers. Most of them were jocks. Yeesh.

Where was Meg?

She could see the spot where they were all sat around outside. There was a grill off to the side and they were all holding cards. Then she noticed the number of seats and counted in her head—There she was. Right there in the fifth seat was Megara. She had mentioned something earlier that day about needing some time away from Hercules, who was apparently prepping for a bodybuilding competition. That's gotta be weird to be around: muscly weirdness and lots of posing in a mirror? Yeah, count me out on that one, sister.

It looked like a game of Uno (Did I mention that I have the world's worst poker face? That's because I don't even have one!). Kristoff was easily going to win for the fourth time in a row, but they still sat around and had fun. All of the punch glasses at the table were nearly empty, except for Rapunzel's since she was dieting for Eugene. Now that she recalled, Rapunzel hadn't taken a sip at all. Who the heck is Eugene, anyway? The name had passed its way around the table a few times, earning a few "Oos" and "Whoop-whoops" from she and her friends. They were glad to see Punzelton finally getting in on the smooth side of things.

As Merida made a comment about pickle sandwiches, Anna took a glance from her spot in the manifested memory to the side, seeing a solitary figure on his phone not really paying anyone any mind. For the big boy who gave everyone invitations, he doesn't look too hot. She, admittedly, had little reason to talk with him. Her junior year of high school had been like one big production: Anna Knows Nothing About Love. She had gone all the way with the guy after 4 dates, claiming he was just "So dreamy." And they held out for a while, until Valentine's day he forgot to get her a present and she dumped him on the spot. I'd had enough of his shit. Sweet guy, high status.. even a lot of friends, but not an honest reason to love him. She was glad he didn't take it too hard. It was still the only thing she could think about as she looked over at him.

She stood up from the table, to which Meg asked, "What's up, Sug?" Anna craned her head in that general direction while maintaing eye contact, hoping she'd understand. Meg looked for only a split-second and then turned back, nodding to her in acknowledgment. Anna was already standing, and then pushed her chair back to give herself some room.

"Anna?" The blonde boy looked up to which Meg simply placed a hand on his shoulder. The others at the table similarly felt a need to say something, but as they all turned to Meg, they were certain they'd hear whatever tale there was to tell.

The patio was not inviting by any means. As she harrumphed indifferently and plopped herself down next to the tall young man, she noticed several ash trays decorating it. There wasn't even a chair? Wow, what a party...

"So.. what's up in your world these days?" It felt strange, seeing the memory replay before her eyes—the eyes of her remembered self—and hearing herself talk sent her abuzz with that telltale curiosity. Do I really sound that whiny? She awaited to see what Hans would say. Hell, I don't even know how much I can trust this memory, but I haven't seen myself drink yet.. yet… Latching onto that thought, she resumed her watching of the replaying scenes.

"Nothing much," he said, running that bulky finger down his phone screen as if he were reading something. Faker.

"Um—"

"How's your mom doing?" Oh yeah. Soo romantic to bring that up. She rolled her imaginary eyes, like teal-stained marbles floating around in another world. Usually, well really if anyone else had asked (Other than my actual friends…), it wouldn't have meant much to her at all. She'd often reply with a simple "Good," and go on about something else, but her conscience was too strong. There you go being the good girl again, Anna. Even when you don't have to. What does he deserve from you, anyway?

While she now knew the answer as nothing, her self of only 12 hours ago, give or take—

"Her treatment is almost over."

—did not know what she was doing. Why aren't you facepalming, dammit!?

The last thing she expected was a contented sigh. Huh?

"That's good to hear," he replied, slipping his phone into the large compound pocket of his hoodie and turning to face her. He didn't smile, but his mood was perhaps the slightest bit upturned at her surprise visit.

"So, what about you?" You hardly even answered his question, idiot. "How'd you hear about the party?" She was dumbfounded at how horrible she really was at smalltalk, but was just as confused as to why she was talking to him at all. I don't smoke, so I wasn't high. Unless Seth pulled another weed brownie stunt.

"Ariel's parents told the football team first. Well it was actually her mom, since she coaches the cheer squad; but she said we were responsible for getting the word out, so I did." He smoothed out a stray lock of hair that hung down in front of his eyes. No wonder he gets called Shaggy by the team. His hair's almost as long as mine! "What? You didn't think I wanted to be here, did you?"

His emphasis didn't go unnoticed. Wait, what? He had to go?

"Well, I figured that—"

"They're not my real friends, you know." Frankly, she didn't have a clue, but his statement was a stepping stone to the beginning of an idea. He looked down between his knees, hair falling and obscuring him entirely. "The team knows nothing about me."

It didn't seem that way when you kept pushing me away, you know, when we were dating back then. But she didn't let it get to her. It's only a memory.

"What's it like around them? I've always wondered about the practices. Is it all like hustle and muscle, pushing it to the max on all the lifts and tackling the crap outta each other? Heck I'm glad they give y'all water or else you'd probly die out there in the heat, which is I guess the only reason I don't like the fall around here—it's still hot, you know, and sometimes you feel like you're gonna die." He still held his face down over himself, slumping even further over when she finished. "S-sorry," she felt pretty bad about it, "I was rambling."

He sighed and then pushed himself back up, sitting back like before. "Yeah you were." He didn't sound annoyed or anything, just a little restless. In the afternoon light, she could make out a purple tint to the space under his eyes. Did he stay up all night inviting people? Knowing Ariel's mom, she could've made it a required project or something. Who knows.

"Sorry," she said quietly. Her eyes looked down to the grass and spotted something she hadn't seen in years. A cow ant! Word has it that those black and red bastards can kill a cow with their sting, but she had been lucky enough to not to experience it first-hand. Never thinking she'd see one again, she picked up a small stick laying at her side and went to go pester the insect.

His eyes followed her, curious. Not knowing just what she was up to, he replied simply. "Don't be." He looked on as she turned to face him, blank gaze expressing her own feeling of confusion. Not noticing the stick still in her hand, knees on the grass, a rather distinct sensation—

"Oh Shit!"

—caught her attention. The furry critter had crawled from the stick up to her hand, and the instant she noticed it was flung into the far reaches of the backyard. Glad I didn't get stung. Although if I did that would explain why I got knocked out, or whatever the hell is going on.

"What was that?" He put his two hands in front of him, measuring out what he believed as an accurate size of the bug. Anna scoffed at his estimate. "It was just a cow ant. They've got a really painful sting, and yes they are pretty big as bugs go." She stood up and brushed herself off. "I was gonna show you this thing where you pin them under a stick and they make this weird squeaking noise that's just so funny." Hans looked bewildered at her cheery tone on the subject. He must think I'm a freak now…

"Hey come on, I haven't done it since I was," she put her left hand to her side, palm and fingers facing down and outwards, "this tall." Hans looked at her incredulously, then snorted a laugh as his head moved back slightly. Anna was tired of standing, so she reclaimed her spot next to him.

"You sure you're not high?" Anna did a triple-take. What!? The fact that he had gone several steps ahead and acted as if he had asked earlier, and maybe even another time (He did ask a long time ago, but…) felt like a sucker punch. I'm not your buddy, Hans.

"That's not funny," she said curtly. See, even I agree! "But I guess some people who never had fun when they were little might think that way." Seriously, what is it with kids and joking around about drugs and stuff? Is it really that funny?

"Maybe." He said it with the same indifference as all his other statements. Feeling the awkwardness, of which she was known to be very keen, she just had to break it.

"So, you never really answered me earlier." He stared up at her, hoping that her eyes might give him a clue. Those cold, calculating eyes. Athlete or not, he's such a dweeb. "Answered what?"

"You know.. I asked what was up with you and you just said something about invitations." Hans just ran his hands down his legs, taking in a breath. "But you did ask about them." He didn't look at her this time. Now he was pouting like before, except he kept the hair out of his face. "Jeez your memory is terrible."

"Excuse me?" Yeah, go on, tell him off! "I didn't have to come over here and talk to you—"

"And I didn't ask you to."

She huffed and puffed a little. "That's not the point. But anyway, there's no way you can say you'd rather sit here all alone."

"Actually, yeah I would. Isn't that what it means when you see someone sitting away from others on their phone?" Having taken the time to shift over, moving his right arm out of the way, he leered over at her questioningly. Bringing his hand to his chin in a mock-thinking position, "Oh that's right, how would you know?" She gasped at him, leaving her mouth agape.

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"You're always fucking talking, that's what!"

She couldn't deal. I don't even…

"Let's go inside, Anna." Kristoff didn't look the least bit pleased at the commotion, sending his best glare down at Hans.

"Yeah, just leave both of y—"

"Enough Hans," he said forcefully. Anna stood up, brushing against the blonde boy's shoulder. She wasn't going to say another word to him. Noticing a few shuffling feet behind her, she saw the rest of her friends gathered together. The near-setting sun still shined on them while they were covered by the shadow of the house. So they were concerned about me, huh? Not like a would've needed it.. but thanks… I love you guys…

As they walked into the party house, Hans muttered under his breath, looking over at their abandoned Uno game. "Piss off."

Shuffling in from the outside, they all made it in and closed the sliding glass door to a mere crack. Kristoff took Anna to the side, just outside the kitchen and it's pizza-covered counters. "You okay?" He asked her with brotherly concern. Aww, how could you lie to the guy? Anna ran a finger up under his jawline, a spot that over time she noticed was the one place he could never get fully shaven. Rubbing a long line from the left side (That's his right, isn't it?) to the edge of his chin, she gave him a smile. "He did kinda tell me to piss off, but I could tell he didn't wanna be here," she said, her genuineness not wavering in the slightest. "Apparently Ariel's parents forced the football team to spread word and attend the party." Kristoff gave her a befuddled look, not much of a shift from what it was already. He said, "I thought I told you, but I knew you'd rather not hear about him. Maybe it slipped my mind," he remarked as his hand scratched at the back of his head. "You sure you're okay. I mean, I'm pretty sure that if you weren't I'd've noticed by now, but," he looked straight at her, "I just had to make sure." Anna felt lucky to know the guy. I really am, honestly. "Don't mention it, Kristoff." Her eyes softened to the fullest. "If there was a problem, he'd have a pure red nose and you'd either be driving me home or getting drunk with me to help me get over it." Noticing that his gaze softened somewhat, she jabbed him in the ribs. "There's 5 of us. How's a game of beer pong sound?" And then his eyes lit up, finally assured he was talking to the real, unconcealed Anna (It's true and blue or nothing with me baby!).

He turned around and muttered a few words that she knew probably had to do with her suggestion, which he no doubt loved. She couldn't hear him at all over the rumble of the party. People were going crazy over in the next room—a group of about 18 kids were positively rocking out to some brand new house music, a few of them grinding against each other. I just can't remember the name of any of those artists for the life of me. I remember seeing this one guy who's symbol was what looked like Mickey Mouse's severed head (Isn't that messed up!?). I think his name was DeadMowFive, but anytime I said that around people I got the weirdest looks. Figures.

"Seriously, Rapunzel? Keystone's the best you got?" Meg whined.

The younger girl shrugged, offering honestly, "It's all I got." She had always been the one with the booze. I can only imagine how funny Punzelton's response would be if ever asked "What's in the trunk?" Heh, of course she'd do the quirky thing. Who'd even bother to think? "I'ma g-g-g-get you drunk!"

Past the groups of other kids messing about the party, Kristoff man-handled the large cooler which held the namesake necessity for the game they were about to play.

Meandering up the steps to the ideal spot for their game, they could already see the table. It was situated just before the next flight of stairs which would lead to the second floor, and it overlooked the rest of the house's wide-open space. Anna's eyes took notice of two girls blocking the way over to the table.

"Could you move? We're setting up," Merida said matter-of-factly, and the two figures turned to face them, wiping their knees and standing up in the same motion. Neither of them said anything, but something about them was impossible to forget. The ends of their hair. One's red, and one's blue. Hair dying is not uncommon, especially among angsty teenage girls, but the two were so fair—so unmistakably ghostly that she couldn't have been wrong. But at the same time, she had no idea.

What the hell were their names? I only remember because they were born with their hair like that.

Anna downed another cup of beer as Kristoff made it into her cup the third time in a row. "Are you trying to make me throw up?" She asked playfully. Kristoff sneered, replying, "Take it like a man, Anna. You could clean out your whole gallon and just barely be drunk I bet." Taking it as a challenge, she took aim at the cups on the other side of the table, giving herself some elbow room from Meg and Merida. How are those two so good at this? I swear they could hustle as a team. It was true, the three of them versus Kristoff and Rapunzel was a death wish, or maybe a "Get out of Sobriety Free" card.

Taking aim, she tossed the ball in her signature overhanded wrist arc, but in the same moment catching a pair of eyes down on the first floor. It had been no more than half a second, but it was more than enough. Them.

"You got me," Rapunzel admitted, wrapping her hand around the cup and then slowly downing the beer.

"That was pretty smooth, Anna. You weren't even looking!" He had a boyish grin as he looked on to the other side, and it subsided to something less visible as he waited for the other two girls to take their shots.

Anna wasn't listening. She could hear nothing but—

Who the hell are they!?

After Meg and Merida both had somehow made their shots (Whoop-whoop!), the other side took note of the fact that they each had only one cup each.

"Okay, time for the A-game," Kristoff said. They were nearing the end of their fourth game, the first one the other side actually had a chance in Hell at winning. Each side had 2 cups of beer per person per round. When her teammates weren't feeling up to it, Anna would drink the beer if they didn't want to—felt no harm in it, really. I can see why they wouldn't want to, though: Keystone fucking suuucks.

Just then, the ball reached its final target. "Nice try, guys, but 4 straight wins for R-K!" Rapunzel said as she high-fived Kristoff. Anna grumbled slightly and downed the last cups of beer, and, subsequently, the end of her gallon. "Who gave you the idea, Rapunzel?"

"Huh?"

"To start using gallons. I think it's a pretty good idea." Yeah, if you're stupid, impulsive and hardheaded and you're name's Anna. "Funny thing is that it was totally random," the blonde replied. "Some girl in AP English class gave me the idea. Can't remember her name."

It's not actually AP, pretty sure. It's just what they call it when you take a course with kids a year older than you.

"Wait, was I not in there with you," Anna asked. "I distinctly remember you reminding me about something." Kristoff laughed, poking Punzelton in the side. "Probly the term paper, wasn't it?" Even Meg and Merida, who had retreated to the side to calm their wooziness, snickered a bit at that one. And then it clicked.

Oh. My. God.

The.. term paper!

The memories came back in full. She had been so distraught that she didn't even want to do it (Seriously, screw you Mr Bronx). And then on the last day before, someone heard her distraught cries. Them! Alice and Krystal Monét, the sisters dubbed as "Fire and Ice."

They had offered to do the essay for her, but Anna refused. She knew they were trouble. But they had certainly gone too far when they called her a bitch for refusing something so blatantly helpful. I doubt they had anything better to do… But it was too late. The moment they left, Anna snapped, and the troublesome girls were no more. Mr Bronx was appalled at the revelation, and took the liberty of divulging the information to Principal Nohmis.

After she had surprised him the next day with a glimmering essay that gave him some doubts (Oh boy, anything but that right now…), Mr Bronx revealed that the two girls—the most prolific, malicious, conniving and perhaps misunderstood duo the school had ever seen—were expelled.

The last piece of the puzzle finally slipped in.

They've played beer pong with us before.

And all too quickly, she roused from the imaginary world with fully functioning senses to a sight she couldn't bare.

Screaming at the heinous sight, the last thing she recalled were the bare forms sprinting out as her own arms fell to her bare chest, the shock forcing her into slumber.

AN: This is technically not my first Elsanna, but it happens to be the one posted first.

In all honesty I'm not sure where I got the idea. And before I spoil anything, I'll just leave it at that.

The ball will get rolling before long, believe me. I'll try to update by the end of this week.

Please review :)