In the end, there was only one thing Elsa could do. She knew that what she felt for her little sister was wrong, immoral, illegal. She'd tried to stop the inappropriate thoughts, stop the unnatural feelings, but to no avail. So she only had one course of action left.
She sat at her desk, her best stationary laid out in front of her, calligraphy set ready. Both were presents from Anna. It felt appropriate. It took a while to get her thoughts down on paper, eloquent and carefully written in beautiful script.
When she finished, she folded the paper in half and slipped it into an envelope, writing her sister's name across the front with flourish. Then she sat on the edge of her bed, taking a deep breath and contemplating the bottle on her nightstand. Steeling herself, Elsa dumped the pills into one hand, taking her glass of water in the other and quickly downing the pills. Shakily, nervously, she laid down, folding her hands across her stomach, the envelope under her fingers.
And she waited. At first nothing happened, but slowly, the world began to spin and tilt, and Elsa had to swallow back nausea. The sensation increased, and a fuzziness caused her thoughts to haze over. She blinked up at the ceiling blearily. A sharp pain in her stomach made her gasp – almost made her vomit, but she fought back the urge with what little will-power she had left. Then her muscles seized, her teeth grinding together and eyes rolling back as she spasmed.
Then the room was silent and still.
"Elsa?" Anna knocked in her sister's door, waiting for an answer. "Come on, I know you're in there, your car is in the driveway. Lets watch a movie. I'll even let you pick which one."
Silence.
"Elsa?" Anna called louder, knocking again. Cautiously, she eased the door open. "Els–" her throat closed, strangling her voice, as she saw her sister laying on the bed. She told herself the older girl was sleeping, but her brain relentlessly took stock of the careful pose, the skin, once so smooth and lively, now a lifeless, pale grey.
No… nononono no.
Shakily, Anna moved to the bed, sitting at the edge, her hand reaching out without thought, hovering over her sister. She withdrew before making contact, afraid to feel cold skin where once there was warmth.
Then she saw the envelope, and hesitantly slipped it out from under Elsa's hand.
Dearest Anna,
I cannot tell you how sincerely sorry I am that you were the one to find me. If there had been another way, believe me, I would have taken it.
It also pains me to leave you alone like this. I know you've been struggling since Mom and Dad died, and I hate adding to that struggle. I simply see no other option.
You see, Anna, I have betrayed you.
I am supposed to be your older sister, your protector and friend. But I have failed. I have failed to protect you from the worst threat of all: myself.
There is a disease inside me, Anna. One that time has been unable to purge. This disease consumes me, eating away at all that is good and pure. It warps my feelings.
Where I should love you as simply my sister, I have begun to love you as a woman. Where I should protect you, I find myself lusting for you, instead. Where I should be your friend, I yearn to be your partner. And where I should be no more than your sister, I long to be your lover.
Forgive me, Anna.
I have failed you in the worst way possible, and I will spend an eternity paying my penance for that.
Forgive me as well for leaving you like this. I can no longer bear to conceal my true feelings for you, my darling sister.
Be strong, love. I know you are. You are the strongest person I know, and I know you can get past this. Be happy. You have a beautiful smile; the world deserves to see it. And love. Love as if it were oxygen, required for life. Because you, Anna, you have a heart capable of such amazing love. And whoever receives that gift will surely be the luckiest person in the world.
And now I must say goodbye, dear Anna. It is time to break the chain that holds you down.
I love you.
Elsa
Anna was gasping for breath, tears pouring in thick rivulets down her cheeks by the time she got to the end of the letter. "Oh, Elsa," she managed, throwing herself over her sister's body and squeezing her tight. "Why didn't you tell me?" she sobbed brokenly.
The police officer in charge watched as the coroner carefully separated the two girls on the bed. One dead of an apparent overdose, the other, with slit wrists. There was a note that made the officer's eyebrows raise, but what he found more interesting than the calligraphy confession was the addendum written in a scrawl of ballpoint ink.
I love you, too.