Trigger warnings: selfharm, mentions of rape, and, eventually, really vivid memories of rape. Read at your own risk.
The door slams shut somewhere downstairs, and you feel fear course through you. You know you shouldn't be so afraid, and that you should remember he's in jail, but some part of you – some broken, terrified part – is so damned afraid he's going to walk in your room at any moment.
"Mom?" You call out into the empty house. No answer. "Mom?" You call again, your voice echoing through the walls of your room.
Footsteps coming up the stairs. You peep out of your slightly opened bedroom door.
You see two shadows, both stumbling clumsily into your mother's room.
Typical.
If you had a dime for every man she brought home...
You sigh and shut your door quietly. You hate hearing how loud she is.
Your kitten, Olaf, rubs against your leg with a mew. You run your fingers through his soft, white fur.
It wasn't always like this. Hours of the day without your mother, without anybody except your thoughts. She used to be home a lot, and she used to laugh and sing with you. But when he came along, and after what he did to you, things became grim in the house.
Your mother blamed you. She didn't tell you that to your face, of course, but you knew. You always knew.
It had been a few months since then, and your mother wanted to move to a new town – Weselton – and make a new start.
Of course, as a socially awkward 16 year old, you weren't thrilled with the idea. It took you years to acquire the three friends you currently have, and you've been in West Chester since you were six!
You pick Olaf up and give him a hug. For a cat, he sure does like warm hugs. You kiss his forehead affectionately and he purrs.
You look into the mirror. The blonde who stares back at you is much more different than the girl she used to be.
Once bright, happy blue eyes have turned to a dull, sad shade. Pale skin has become a ghostly white, comparable to freshly fallen snow. Platinum blonde hair has become nearly white, as well. Your once curvy figure is now deathly thin, as if you haven't eaten in days – which you haven't.
You sigh and turn away. You don't like to look at the bags under your eyes or the scars on your wrists.
You set Olaf down on your blue comforter with a sad groan. He rubs against you again, but you ignore him.
Tomorrow you start school again. It's early in the year, so it's not like you missed anything big. Besides, you're smart, so you'll be okay.
You hear a squeak next door and feel like vomiting.
"Oh, Olaf," you whisper into the dark room. "I wish you could talk. Then I'd have a real friend."
You wrinkle your nose as you look up from your breakfast – strawberry Pop Tarts – to see some random man with a towel around his waist.
"Hey, babe," he calls. "Someone's in your kitchen."
You flinch internally. She didn't even tell him she had a daughter?
Your mom appears from around the corner. "Wh- oh! That's just Elsa."
Just Elsa? Thanks mom. You think bitterly.
"She your daughter or something?" He asks, opening the fridge.
"Does it matter?" Your mom replies.
Ouch.
"Not really," he shrugs, shutting the fridge door with a can of soda in his hand.
He looks you up and down and you avert your gaze to the table.
"Well, you're pretty cute, huh?" His voice fills the awkward silence. "You look pretty smart. You don't give your mom trouble, do you?"
You shake your head politely.
"Good. I'm a cop, y'know, so if you ever need anything," he knocks on the table twice, "gimme a call, alright?"
You nod and he walks away, apparently satisfied with your answers.
You spend the rest of the morning cuddling into Olaf's soft fur.
You nervously wait at the bus stop. You're the first one here, obviously, and you're absolutely terrified.
Footsteps approach and you mentally prepare yourself.
"Hi!" Comes a warm, feminine voice. "I've never seen you around before! Are you new?"
You turn and internally gasp. This girl is gorgeous!
Copper locks are pulled into smooth braids resting on her dainty shoulders. Her rosy cheeks and cute nose are littered with freckles. Bright, icy blue eyes are filled with a childlike sense of wonder and joy. She's petite in size, long, thin arms and endless legs beneath shorts.
You find yourself staring at this beauty as if you'd never seen something so beautiful – which, honestly, you haven't.
She giggles and the sound is like angels singing in your ears.
"You don't talk much, do you?" She asks softly.
No, you can speak. I can speak! You want to say. Because you can.
You try to force something – anything – from your mouth, but, then you remember: talking to new people is not something you can do.
Your brain screams at you to run from this stranger, but your heart says to try harder.
Everything inside of you is screaming and fighting so all you can do is smile sadly at the poor girl who probably thinks you're insane by now.
"I'm Anna," she says.
Anna.
Anna.
Anna.
Her name is Anna.
Such a beautiful name, you think dreamily.
She pulls a notebook and a pen from her purse – which is pink with a cute dog on it – and hands them to you.
You get what she wants and flip to a new page, writing 'I'm Elsa' in the neatest handwriting you can muster.
Anna grins as if she'd just won the lottery.
"That's such a pretty name!" She gushes and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks.
The bus arrives just as another person – a tall, clumsy, awkward blond boy – runs over to the stop.
"Kristoff, this is Elsa. Elsa, this is Kristoff." Anna introduces.
You look the boy up and down. You know he isn't threatening, but there's still that part of you – that scared, broken, nagging part – that doesn't want to trust him.
He's tall – very tall. His nose is sort of wide, but it suits his manly face. He looks like sort of a mountain man, with his broad shoulders and big muscles.
You hurry onto the bus behind Anna and let her lead you to a three-seater. Kristoff sits in the two seater next to your seat. Anna lets you sit at the window.
"So, why don't you talk, if you don't mind my asking?" Anna asks innocently.
You blush as you rapidly write, 'anxiety' and she nods in understanding.
"My cousin was like that before she met Eugene – her boyfriend. You can call him Flynn though. She used to be so quiet. She was so afraid of people, you'd think she'd never been around them her whole life!" Anna chuckles, then blushes. "Sorry, I talk a lot. You probably think I'm insane, huh?"
Before you can stop it, your hand scribbles down 'no, you're adorable'. You gasp and clench your eyes shut.
Way to go, Elsa, you internally scold. Now she thinks you're a total dyke.
Not that you are. You're not. You just think girls are nicer to look at than guys, that's all.
"Well, if you need help with anything, just ask me or Kristoff. Don't worry," she leans in so close you swear you can feel her lips touch your ear, "we don't bite."
When she pulls away you can hear your heartbeat in your ears and you swear it just got so much warmer in here. Biting? Did she say biting? Who was she biting?
You gulp nervously and look out the window, trying hard to focus on 'conceal don't feel', a mantra you'd come to live by these past few months.
You hear a light laughter behind you and look up to see a brunette with short-cropped hair and a petite frame eerily similar to Anna's. Her bright green eyes are shining with amusement.
"Geez, cuz, can you at least give the new girl a break? Poor thing looks like you just said you wanted to fuck her senseless." The girl jokes.
You freeze up slightly and Anna seems to notice.
She hits the girl on the arm lightly. "Watch what you say, Rapunzel!" She snaps. "This is Elsa. Elsa, this is my rude cousin, Rapunzel."
You wave shyly and Rapunzel smiles.
Anna returns to gazing at you as you look out the window. Your eyes always seem to end up looking at her reflection, though.
She's so beautiful.
When you arrive at school, Anna leads you to the office and gives you a tight hug. She forgets her notebook, but you make a mental note to give it to her later.
Your principle is very nice. His name is Mr Oaken. He's very tall and burly and sort of reminds you of a big fluffy bear.
He has a really strong accent, so he's difficult to understand, but you get the gist of what he's saying.
"Now, we'll have your guide here immediately to take you to your class." He says when he's done explaining the rules, dress code, your schedule, etc.
He stands up and leads you back out to the front office and gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. You flinch from the contact, but you don't feel as threatened by him as you do with other men. Mostly because you know he's flaming gay and probably wouldn't do that to you anyway.
You spend an agonizingly silent few moments with the receptionists, which are both old women who are talking animatedly about their cats. You almost want to say you have a cat, too. Almost.
"Oh my god!" You hear a familiar voice gasp. "It's you!"
You turn to see Anna grinning excitedly by the entrance. You smile at her, relieved you don't have to be awkwardly quiet around some random stranger.
"Can I see your schedule?" She asks. You nod and give it to her. She examines it as you walk down the hallways. "We have pretty much the same classes! Just stick with me, okay?"
It's not like anyone else wants to be my friend. You think sarcastically.
"Just tell me if I'm too touchy-feely. I'm a hugger. Sorry. So, what house did you move into?"
You use the notebook again and write down your address and a wide smile spreads across her cheeks.
"Wow! I live across from you!" She exclaims. "Now we can hangout!" You watch her cute cheeks turn bright red with a creeping blush. "I-I mean if you want to. I was just wondering if you did because I mean that's cool if you do because you're really cool and I want to get to know you because I'm sure you're not just a pretty face with a bitchy attitude not that I'd think that I mean it's just a stereotype for girls like you I mean like gorgeous girls and-"
You put a finger on her lips without thinking and smile softly.
You put your hand back down and she's still blushing.
"Sorry. I'm a nervous rambler."
You quirk an eyebrow up at her. Do I really make you nervous? You want to ask, but you still can't talk to her.
"Oh, geez, um, not that you make me nervous, I mean, you do, but not in a bad way." She rambles. "It's just 'cause you're so gorgeous – wait what?"
You chuckle and it sounds strange. You never laugh. And she seems alarmed, too, considering she's never heard you speak, let alone laugh. She joins in, though, and your musical laughter echoes through the halls.
You decide you like Anna. Maybe she'll be the first person you can talk to without breaking down in an emotional fit.
You also decide, as the beautiful redhead smiles affectionately at you, that she likes you, as well.
You stuck with Anna pretty much the entire day. When you didn't have classes with her, you had them with her cousin, so it wasn't so bad. Her cousin treated you as though you were a fragile glass object that could shatter with the slightest effort. You assume it's because Anna told her to do so.
When you get home, you shuffle inside.
A note sticks out on the fridge.
Elsa,
Staying late for work. Food is in the fridge.
-Mom
You sigh sadly and look in the fridge. You're honestly not hungry, so you go upstairs instead.
You do your usual routine and take your medication. Soon, though, you start remembering.
His hands being all over you. His rough mouth. His painful thrusting.
You flinch and take the blade out of your special drawer. You numbly slide it along your wrist, barely even wincing as you remember.
Blood beads up and drips onto your arm.
You don't care.
You don't even notice.
Slut. Freak. Nobody. Worthless.
Slice, cut, drip.
Dyke. Ugly. Disgusting.
Slice, cut, drip.
Ding dong.
You gasp and hurry to wrap your wrist.
You run to the door and swing it open. It's Anna.
"Hey, I just remembered. Can I have my notebook back?" She asks innocently.
You nod and wave for her to come in. You don't want Olaf getting out.
As you hurry to find the missing item, Anna examines everything she can see.
"Oh my god!" You hear her squeal. You look up, alarmed, only to find her snuggling with Olaf. "He is so cute! What's his name?"
You take her palm and spell out 'Olaf' with your finger and she coos his name multiple times. When you find the notebook, she smiles gratefully.
"Thanks! Sorry, I need it for chemistry notes." She explains.
It's fine, you want to say. But you can't.
You just smile and she pulls you into a hug. She smells like summer and berries.
"I'll see you around, okay?" She says as you walk her to the door.
You nod enthusiastically and she walks out.
After she leaves, you slide against the door and land on the floor.
"Anna," you say after a while. Your voice is crackly from not speaking, but her name feels good on your tongue, so you say it again. "Anna."
You close your eyes slowly. Perfect girl, perfect name.
Maybe moving wasn't so bad, after all.
whynotelsanna . tumblr . com