Got inspiration for this from a book I'm reading. Sorry, Elsa. I don't know why I have to make your poor life miserable because I'm feeling angsty. I couldn't resist taking a few pieces out of the song "Monster" by Caissie Levy. If you haven't listened to that song yet, you should. It'll totally rip your heart out. Let me know what you think!
"I'm scared!" I cried, turning from the ice-covered corner and facing my parents, looking at my hands in confusion. Why weren't the gloves working? "It's getting stronger!"
"Getting upset only makes it worse," Father said, voice gentle but stern at the same time. "Calm down."
I looked up and realized he had come closer. I instinctively drew back, clutching my hands-my dangerous hands-to my chest. "No, don't touch me!" Mother's hands flew to her mouth in shock, eyes shining with worry. Father just looked at me, equally taken aback. "Please," I pleaded, voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you."
Mother stepped forward, putting her hand on Father's shoulder, but stopped there. She looked at me with sad, helpless eyes. They both did. I sighed and turned around, hugging myself. "I'm sorry," I choked, tears running down my cheeks.
It was silent for a few moments, then I heard quiet sighs of defeat and footsteps as they walked to the door. "We'll figure this out," Father said, voice uncharacteristically weak. It made my stomach churn. He was the King, nothing could tear him down. He was like the castle itself, strong and solid. At least, that's what I thought. I guess maybe I was the weakness.
The door clicked shut and I fell into the wall and slid to the floor, sobs overtaking me, as did the ice.
I somehow managed to fall asleep in the corner, surprising since I usually have trouble falling asleep. I stumbled to my feet and went to my dresser and looked in the mirror. I was a mess, my face blotchy and red and hair falling out of my braid. I undid my braid and brushed my hair and re-braided it, and tried to straighten my clothes. The sun was setting, so I must have missed dinner.
A white object by the door caught my attention. I walked over and picked it up. A note from Gerda, telling me to come to the kitchen when I was ready, adding that Anna would be busy and the rest of the staff dismissed after 7:00. I looked at my clock: 7:15. Five hours I had been asleep.
My stomach growled, for I had missed lunch as well, so I decided to go ahead and get some food. Once couldn't hurt, right?
Despite her assurance that I would be left alone, I was still cautious when I left. Though I never was as clumsy as my sister, in the years since our separation I learned how to move in the shadows like a ghost, which was basically what I was, pale and quiet and flitting in the background of the castle and my sister's life.
When I reached my parents' room, I heard loud talking inside. Not quite yelling, but close. I intended to ignore it and keep going, but then I heard my name. I paused and hesitantly stepped closer to the door so I could hear better.
"Agdar, it can't stay this way. It's obvious it's not working. And Anna's growing suspicious."
"What else would you have me do, Idun?" He sounded stressed and defeated. "We can't just let things go back to the way they were!"
"Did you not see our daughter?!" Mother's voice broke. "She is falling apart! She wouldn't let us touch her! Things have gone too far, something has got to change!"
"Anna almost died! They cannot be together again!" I gasped quietly, though thankfully they were too occupied to hear. I always knew part of him blamed me, even if he never specifically said so.
"It was an accident! They were just children! Elsa would be more careful, I know she would!"
"If she doesn't have control, it doesn't matter how careful she tries to be. I know it hurts to say it, and believe me when I say I don't want to, but we have to accept it: Elsa is dangerous."
Tears dripped off my chin. He was right, of course, but it still hurt.
"Elsa is not a monster!"
"I never said she was a monster, Idun. I know she's not doing it on purpose. But," he sighed wearily. "If she doesn't control it, and soon, she may unconsciously become one."
I didn't hear Mother's reply. I drew back and hit the wall in shock. A monster. My own father thought I was going to be a monster. I suddenly didn't feel hungry as I rushed back to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me and falling against it and sliding to the floor. I looked at my gloves hands, the word 'monster' echoing through my mind.
I curled into a ball and I cried. And cried. I had been doing that a lot lately. The already dreary future ahead of me looked even more hopeless, and those thoughts came back. Maybe everyone would be better off without me. All this pain, all this fear, it began because of me. I'm making our world colder, how long can it survive? Should I kill the monster before it takes full control? If I die, will Anna be free to live a normal life? Will the gates open?
Anna's sunny face filled my mind, teal eyes sparkling and her smile bright. For a reason unknown to me, she still loved me. How would it affect her? It wouldn't be fair for me to dump every responsibility on her. And what of my parents? I know my mother already feared I would attempt something like this, I had heard her tearful prayers outside my door when she thought I was asleep.
No, I couldn't do it. Not yet, anyway. But I couldn't let them be close to me, for their own safety. Anna was already separated by my door, but my parents...it wasn't enough to just not touch them anymore.
Talking was the only way we could be close, but even it was too much. I had to stop giving them hope. I knew what I had to do.
As my father once told me, it's for the best.
I was always shy growing up, and even when I was with my family I was usually content to let Anna talk. I was never really talkative, so at first, nobody noticed. I just nodded yes or no or shrugged when Gerda asked me questions. She gave me an odd look, for I suppose it was a little rude, but she didn't say much else.
During my lessons, I didn't talk. Thankfully, I usually didn't have to with these particular subjects, so it went unnoticed.
But when my parents came to visit, it became complicated.
"Good afternoon, Elsa," Father said as he and Mother entered the room. I nodded politely, looking at the floor. "How were your lessons?" I nodded again, finally looking up at them. Father raised a brow.
"Elsa, dear, are you alright?" Mother asked. I nodded again. Her and Father glanced at each other.
"Not in a talkative mood, I suppose," he murmured. "We'll come back later." He gave me a look as he left, one that warned me to tread carefully.
After they left I went and sat on my bed, picking up my stuffed puffin. "Oh, Sir Jorgenbjorgen, I don't want to do this," I spoke softly and played with the orange hairs at the top of his head. "But I have to. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt them, so I don't have a choice." I looked at him with determination. "I will not be a monster if I can help it."
As they promised, Mother and Father came back later. Still, I did not talk. By the end, Father was frustrated and Mother was worried, but I still did not speak. They tried this a few times over the next few days, but still, nothing. It was emotionally taxing on all of us, but I tried to hide it. Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show.
Finally, at the end of the day, Father had had it. "Elsa, this has gone on long enough!" He slammed his fist on the desk, making me cringe and ice the chair where I gripped it. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, but this is not appropriate behavior for the crown princess!"
"Agdar!" Mother hissed. She looked at me. "Elsa, what's going on? What's wrong?" Her eyes were wide and pleading, and I felt bad. While Father ignited frustration and anger, Mother eroded with guilt. I knew I was hurting her, and it hurt me. I wanted so badly to just give in, say sorry and that I love her, that I'll do better. But I was a hopeless case, and this was the only way to make it better.
"Answer your mother," he growled. I fought back a grimace, avoiding his gaze. He could still be scary when he was mad.
Without warning, he reached out and grabbed my wrist, hard. I yelped in panic and pain, ignoring his words, and stood and yanked myself away, but in the process I tripped and fell, hitting the table and cutting my forehead. Blood dripped down and splattered on the ice that had shot up everywhere. I held my hand to my head, ignoring the sticky feeling of blood, and gasped through my sobs and struggled back as Mother approached me, trying to calm me. Father stayed behind in shock and stared at me.
As she drew closer, I whimpered and shook my head. 'Please,' I begged. 'Mama, please, just go. I don't want to hurt you.'
As if she could read my mind, she stopped. Tears welled up and ran down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Elsa," she choked. "I'll send Gerda...with first aid supplies."
I nodded and looked away, curling in on myself further when Father tried to approach. "Elsa..."
I shook my head and turned away from him, refusing to meet his gaze. He crossed a line. We all knew it. And even though I brought this on myself, I couldn't help but feel betrayed.
When they left, I stumbled to my bed, keeping pressure on my forehead. When Gerda showed up, I refused to let her bandage it and did it myself. My head ached and my heart ached, and I fell asleep on my bed on top of the covers. The next morning, though, I was covered with a blanket and the blood had been wiped from my face.
They left me alone for a few days. Mother came and checked on me, but didn't force me to speak. I knew it was her that tucked me in last night, but she said nothing of it, so I made no sign that I knew.
Father never showed up.
It wasn't until a week later that they tried again.
"Elsa, sweetheart, please," Mother pleaded, reaching for my hand, but pausing when I pulled it back. "Please, talk to us."
I looked back mutely, keeping my expression neutral. I glanced at Father, who looked at me in defeat. He knew. I looked back at Mother. She knew, too, but she didn't give in. At least, not until now. She whimpered and her head dropped into her hands, her shoulders began to shake with sobs.
My eyes stung and guilt clawed at my stomach. 'I'm sorry,' I thought. 'I don't want to hurt you.'
But as Father always said, it's for the best.
As the years passed, I didn't say a word to hardly anyone. Not to my parents, not to Anna, not to Gerda...anybody I was close to, I didn't speak to them. Only in my lessons when I absolutely had to did I speak, and I knew that Anna and my mother both sat outside the door and listened. Sir Jorgenbjorgen was the only other thing to hear my voice. I whispered and cried to him late at night, for now, I was utterly and completely alone. I had effectively shut out everyone.
When I was eighteen, my parents had to leave on a two-week trip. I met them at the bottom of the stairs as they prepared to go. 'Do you have to go?' I thought, looking at them with pleading eyes, trying to convey my message.
I think they got it. "You'll be fine, Elsa," Father said, Mother smiling sadly beside him. I yearned so badly to hug them and touch them, say goodbye and tell them I love them.
But I didn't.
It's for the best.
Two weeks later, we received news that their ship had been caught in the storm. There were no survivors. I would never get the chance to speak to them or make things right.
I put Sir Jorgenbjorgen in my trunk in the attic and still did not talk to Anna, even though I wanted to. I didn't go to the funeral.
And through it all, I began to wonder.
Was it really all for the best?
I was starting to have my doubts.