So this just came to me while listening to Do You Wanna Build a Snowman.
"Elsa?"
I hear the sweet little voice pipe up from outside my door, jolting me awake. Oh crap! I think. It's Anna's birthday, and I didn't even say anything this morning to her! Oh well, too late now. Better she think I'm asleep. I hear her again. "Elsa?"
It breaks my heart, really. That we have to spend our days apart. But we have no other choice. I hear her little sigh as she plops down outside my door. "It's strange being nine, Elsa. Especially without you. I barely remember a birthday before you... went away. I know you aren't talking to me, but I just wanted you to know that. Birthdays are no fun anymore!" She sniffles a little. A tear rolls down my cheek as I wait for her breathing to settle into the rhythm of sleep. I pick myself off the floor and put my snow-gloves on. Grabbing the blanket Mother knitted for me, I gently open the door.
Anna is slumped forward, snoring softly. I rearrange her so she is lying on the floor, a much more comfortable position, and cover her in the warm wooly blanket. Finally, I ease my power out of my right hand to create a small icicle. I lean forward and carve with its sharp point into the wood of the door.
Happy Birthday, Anna.