The slamming of the door could be heard for miles. Whiskey bottle in hand, Elsa stripped from her dress and made her way to her room. Still tipsy from the drunken night at the local bar, she lost her footing on her way down the stairs, tripping. As she made impact with the floor five steps below where she was just a moment ago, the blonde passed out instantly.
Blackness surrounded her. She could see nothing. Elsa felt around the floor, trying to figure out where she was. Holy fuck, I'm not….blind…...am I? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f- Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. A loud scream followed not a second afterwards. Opening her eyes, Elsa caught a glimpse of her surroundings. Glass was everywhere. The wooden floor beneath her was now stained with whiskey and blood. Holy hell, she could smell it too. Smelled just like the bar she spent most her drunken, lonely nights in. My god, that was depressing. She looked back at her wounded hand, blood oozing and dripping from her wrist. There was a gash that stretched from her left ring finger all the way down to the palm in a diagonal slit. "Fuck." is all she could mutter before stumbling to her feet. She looked down and sighed before she made her way to the bathroom to tend to the injury.
Elsa jolted up, panting, drenched in sweat. Another bad dream. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head to wake herself up. Looking around the pitch black darkness of the room, she slowly arose from her position and threw herself out of her bed. The squeaking of the box springs and ruffling of the sheets are the only sounds that filled the empty house. Making her way to the bathroom, she looked at the clock hanging above the doorway of her room. 6 AM. "Thank fuck, I'm not late." she chuckled. "Fuckin' miracle. She closed her eyes for a second, still walking down the long hallway towards her bathroom, when she suddenly felt pain shoot throughout her body. "WHAT THE HELL?" She looked down to see she had stepped in the glass she forgot to sweep up last night. "First my hand now this god damn foot too!?" she exclaimed as she punched the wall in front of her. Removing her hand from the wall revealed a large dent. A loud sigh. "Great," she laughed, " just fucking great."
Looking into the bathroom mirror, Elsa jumped back. "Holy shit, I look horrible." She messed around with her messy, frizzy, platinum blonde hair, which normally was worn with a lone braid over her left shoulder. Her makeup was smeared all over her face, her purple eyeshadow running down her rosy cheeks. She sighed as she looked into the mirror one last time before stripping out of her light blue bra and panties. She stepped into the shower.
Elsa stepped out of her car and slammed the door. She took a few steps forward, the sound of her heels echoed throughout the parking lot, and leaned over onto the hood of the car, burying her face into her ice cold hands. "This...there's no way this day could get any worse." She stood there for a few minutes before hearing a voice call her name. "Ms. Elsa! Ms. Elsa!" Her favorite student called as he darted toward her. Elsa sprung up and put on a smile as she faced towards the five year old. He stopped before her and made a sudden leap forward, shrieking. Elsa moved fast to catch the young boy. He landed in her arms, now giggling at the sight of his teacher's frightened face. "Olaf," she said loudly in an angry tone. "you can't do things like that! What if I would've dropped you?" Olaf looked at her with a serious face for a quick second before returning back to his normal state. He began to giggle as he jumped down from Elsa's arms. Elsa, now giggling as well, looked up from the ground and made eye contact with Olaf's father.
"Hello, Elsa!" he said, smiling and waving at the blonde. Elsa sighed. "Hello, Kristoff." She said to the man. Kristoff. What a dick. They used to be friends back in highschool before he stole her crush away from her like it was nothing. In the amount of time it takes for someone to snap their fingers, he had her. Normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal, if it weren't for Kristoff knowing how much Elsa loved this girl. And for that, Elsa dreaded seeing that fucker. After highschool, the blonde had hoped she would never have to see him again. Who would've known that she'd be teaching his son five years later, where she would have to see his face everyday for the next few years. They kept eye contact for a few seconds before Kristoff looked back down to his son. "Alright, off to school with you." He gave his son a hug before giving him a light shove towards Elsa. The blonde looked down at the little boy, who was now holding out his hand. Elsa held out her hand and took his. As they walked towards the school, Elsa took a quick look behind her, looking to see if Kristoff was still around. He was gone. Thank the God that I don't believe in. Elsa sighed, and turned her attention back to Olaf.