"Queen Elsa, don't be the monster they fear you are," Hans calls. His voice is so distant I can't hear him, it's like listening through a tunnel, all I can feel is fear. I think of the man pinned to the wall. He has to be the example. They have to leave. I need to protect them, from myself. Tears run down my face and I lengthen the razor sharp jagged ice, spearing his throat. He screams and warm, red blood spatters my cold castle.

"I said: stay away," I pant, trying to stay hard faced as the tears on my face mix with the now dead guards blood.

"No!" Hans screams as I push the other guard off of the ledge of my broken balcony. I can hear his voice fading in his final scream leaves his mouth.

I can hear footsteps running down the stairs and screaming 'retreat'. I can hear Marshmallow yell his famous "DON'T COME BACK!" at them, but it's still all so distant. I can't process what I've done.

"Elsa," I hear his voice behind me.

"Leave, Hans. I'm not safe and I don't want to hurt anyone else," I still haven't turned to look at him yet. My chest heaves with stress and fear and anger.

"Elsa no!" he screams as I whip around and shoot my last ounce of power at him and he falls down the long, hard staircase.

"I said: stay away."

This is when I start to sob, collapsing to my knees. "I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never meant for this to happen! I should have stayed in the castle, in Arendelle. I should have kept it in, tried harder! I should have succeeded all those years ago…" I look down at my wrists, covered in scars from when I was younger; my secret.

"Why," I cry sobbing harder. "Why couldn't I have just been normal" I scream, the high pitched sound resounding off the ice walls, cursing my parents for creating me this way. A jagged piece of ice appears and I take it to my wrist. I've made to so many that I couldn't even count them all. Watching silently as the blood fell down my arms, it took the pain away, if only for very brief amounts of time, not long enough.

I cut again and again, until what was left of my arm was just dangling skin and red, harsh and angry it mocks me, oozing down my hands until the streams finally dripped onto the ice below me. I fall to the hard ice floor.

"Why me…" I said as everything started to dark, pulling me softly into a black abyss. The small dots finally invaded my vision.

"Ow!" I scream in surprise. The sharp thin ice is cold as I press it against my pale skin. I see a drop of blood. It excites me. I can see the red dot growing bigger. I raise the ice to my wrist again, in the same spot, going deeper this time.

This is really weird, I think. It felt nice, kind of peaceful. I didn't feel so bad anymore. The ice was melting and mixing with the red blood that had accumulated on my arm, creating a gruesome pink substance. Thirteen years old. Why are you doing this? Get control. Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let it show. I rolled down the long blue sleeve and returned the small glove to its place on my red and unwashed hand.

The blood scared me at first, and it was the only time I did it that year. I tried it again when I was older, sixteen and desperate. I missed Anna, I missed talking to people; the tutor I saw every two weeks for three hours was plain. He knew about my powers and it was always clear on his face when he showed up, that he was just as terrified of me as I was. He stopped coming when I was sixteen, my parents finally said I had learned enough. That's when I started again.

The cuts grew deeper, the scars more prominent, my shame greater. No one will ever see them, see you. It's fine. I always tried to console myself with these thoughts; that I was doing something good, something that wouldn't be ridiculed or considered evil, work of the devil in hell himself.

I thought of the cuts as a punishment at first, for being me, for being who I am. For having these cursed powers. For having the ability to hurt people. When I started again, it became less of a punishment and more of a pleasure; letting the pain take me away, but never letting me fully escape my life. An icy bliss that lasted only seconds.

Sometimes I really do wish I was dead. I mean, what it the point of me being here? So I can stay locked up in a room that no one ever sees me in anyway? I felt tears prick my eyes as I created yet another piece of sharp ice, knowing what was going to happen next. I made five on each wrist, deeper than ever before as blood flowed freely from the open wounds. I knew that it was my time to die... and I was okay with that.

It was for my yearly test that he found me lying on the floor of my room. My arms covered in angry pink and red welts, smothered in blood. I was crying. It had been a bad day. Anna had tried to stop me in the hall and I couldn't take it. I missed her so much.

All I could think of was the pain always comforted, using my own weapons against myself was always new and exciting, and…peaceful still. The flurry of emotions that came up inside of me when I saw the blood was overwhelming.

I was on the floor when he walked in, my arms were covered in blood.

"Elsa no! What are you doing?" He called. I kept trying to cut. It was agony but bliss all at the same time. My face ran with tears. I vaguely remember my tutor picking up my limp body softly in his arms and laying me on my blanket, staining the blue hue to dark purple.

He helped me. My tutor was a retired psychologist, that's why he was employed to tutor me and not Anna. My parents thought I would need help and someone to talk to, someone who would listen.

My tutor heard my pleas for help, my contemplation of suicide. He talked me out of freezing myself, or jumping out my window. He told me of Anna, how beautiful she was and how well she was growing up. He told me of adventures outside he had with his children, of the weather and people I used to know. The man I once thought was plain became my only best friend.

It had been two years since he first found me there on the floor, sixteen and desperate. He left on a cruise with my parents on day, to see a wedding or something.

And then he died.

And now I sit here; my cold, dead body lying on the floor of my castle. Covered in blood I sit there limp and lifeless. My ghost…well, I, am…clean I don't have any of the familiar scars, the blood is gone, and I felt good, for the first time in forever I felt good. I can feel my lips stretching over my teeth in a smile of release, a laugh comes too, but then it's all shattered when I look down.

I see my body on the cold ice, my once beautiful blue dress stained purple by the blood of others. I want to cry, I want to break down, I want someone to scream at me, to be angry, to be punished; but no one is here. It's just me and my body sitting there on the ice crystals. I don't feel bad though, I don't feel anything but joy really. I know I should be sad, but my heart is soaring at my escape from the world. It's like I had the inability to ever be sad or angry or depressed again. It's all positive and happy.

"Elsa! Elsa no! No, no, no, no, no, no, no" someone comes up the stairs. I drift over to see who it is. "Why Elsa? Why"

She runs up the icy stares, her pink cloak trailing behind her on the floor. She slips on the cold blood that drips down the top steps, drenching her in it. "Anna, it's okay, I'm fine now I feel better! I really do!" I allow myself a laugh as I say it, trying to explain to her.

Then I remember whose body she's kneeling over, that she can't hear me anymore. I still don't feel bad, just less good now. I feel empathetic for her, just not necessarily 'sad'.

She cries, she sees what I did, she saw Hans at the bottom of the staircase. It feels endless; her sobbing, kneeling over my body, her eyes closed to the thought of me actually being gone.

I know she won't be able to feel it, but I walk over and put my hand on her shoulder anyway. She gasps as my hand gently brushes her cheek. "Elsa…?" she mutters.

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best, I love…" I try and tell her my words but they are stopped as my dead body starts glowing. Anna stands and looks at the show my body is playing. It floats off the ground, surrounded in blue sparkles and snowflakes.

They surround Anna too. She looks as confused as I am. The sparkles swirl, icy and cold. She reaches her hand out to touch the delicate flakes but they always are out of reach. Something isn't right; Anna is changing, she is visibly changing, her hair is turning white, not just the streak from when she was young, but both of her fiery red braids becoming the same white silk as mine.

All I can do is watch my sister was engulfed and transformed in the sea of silver and blue. My hanging body was gently lowered to the frozen floor and Anna was revealed. There was a flash of deep blue from Anna's eyes and the sparkles were gone.

She reaches out her hand, in my direction. It surprises me when razor sharp ice shoots through my vaporous abdomen.