A/N: Not great at this "writing" thing. Feedback, even negative is appreciated.

Five days a week, she would wait. She would wait, at the end of the long gravel driveway. She would be surrounded by a forest of cornfields. Every stalk of corn was wilted, and dry. Walls of yellow enclosed the gravel driveway. The same walls surrounded the farmhouse just down the driveway. The paint of the house's siding chipped in too many places to count.

Many drove past the farm on a four-lane paved road. It was the only farm along the road whose crops remained unflattened by the harvest. Those that gave the farm more scrutiny would be surprised by the ethereal figure standing in the sliver of gravel where the corn breaks. Always dressed in a pale white dress, with pale skin and pale hair, her fleeting image was like that of a ghost. Some thought it was frightening. Others thought it was beautiful. The curious ones that came looking her on their way back from the town of Arendelle, would be disappointed to find her gone.

The school bus came every weekday at 3:18 PM. Sometimes it would come early. More often than not it came late. But every time, she would wait. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, not even her phone to keep her company. She would always wait anxiously. And upon Anna's arrival, when the doors of the school bus would open, and Anna would come down the steps, Elsa would want to wrap her arms tightly against the sister she loved, pull her tightly into an embrace, and tell her how much she missed her.

How much she loved her.

But that would never happen. Down the steps she would come, not a word spoken. Straight into the farmhouse, and into the kitchen. Upon which, Elsa would quietly pad up the stairs and into her room. She would shut the door, and lock it, and cry, and ask herself how this came to be.

This was her fault.

Weeks earlier, she found pamphlets on Anna's desk. Her desk was always in disarray. A variety of papers from homework to schedules littered the desk. But the pamphlets stood out. They were inked in muted blue. Three lines of text were underneath a large bold title.

"You are not to blame."

"You are not alone."

The last line of text sent a wave of dread through Elsa's body.

"Sexual assault is a crime."

And that's how the nightmares began.

It would be one of the days Anna didn't come back. Those sorts of days became more frequent since the death of their parents. There would be a knock on the door, and Elsa would look out the window. Blinding white light would stop her from seeing what was outside. So she would pad down the stairs, to the front door, where a men in a dark uniforms would be waiting. Imposing white SUVs would fill the narrow driveway.

She would open the door.

And her heart would thunder in her chest.

"Elsa Nielson?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Constable Kristoff Bjorgman. You're under arrest for sexual exploitation of a minor."

Rough hands grab her, and pin her against the wall.

"You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be used in evidence."

A pair of handcuffs tighten against her wrists.

"It is my duty to inform you that you have the right to retain and instruct counsel in private, without delay. You may call any lawyer you want."

An officer shoves her roughly forward. She stumbles. She is yanked by the back of her slip, the fabric tearing slightly.

"There is a 24 hour telephone service which provides a legal aid duty lawyer who can give you legal advice in private. This advice is free of charge."

She down the driveway. On the other side of the road, leaning on the fence, Hans Westergard is smiling.

"If you wish to contact a legal aid lawyer now, I can provide you with a telephone number."

His smile erupts into laughter.

"Do you wish to contact a lawyer now?"

Elsa stutters.

"Do you understand?"

Tears well up in her eyes.

"Elsa Nielson, do you understand?"

She woke in a cold sweat, and she could not fall asleep afterwards.

Anna was alone and afraid. She was shaking with fear. She opened the bottle of pills. It was a prescription that was not in her name. She took two pills. On some days she wished she took ten. Then she wouldn't have to live with the fear, or the guilt, or the shame. But she couldn't. Not now. She wanted to be angry, to fight, to be anything but the endless pit of hopelessness that she currently was. She used to be feisty. She used to be spontaneous. Full of life. Brave, and not afraid of anything. But all that was left of the old Anna was but a hollow shell.

The pills took effect, and her thoughts become hazy. Whatever of part of her keeping her awake surrendered and withered away.

Down the hall, Elsa was awake. Another night, another nightmare. It was always the same terrible one, over and over again.

Every car passing down the road sends a jolt of fear through Elsa's body. One day, one of the cars will pull into the driveway, and a man in a dark uniform, with a gun, will step out.

A white SUV with blue and red livery sped down the road, past the farm. It's red and blue lights were flashed bright in the darkness.

Elsa stepped away from the window.

How horrible it was that this was her life.