Behind Closed Doors
Disclaimer: If I owned Frozen, there would have been a lot more death and angst.
Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot.
Princess Anna trudged slowly down the corridor, her mind numb with grief. She had not cried during the ceremony, not with so many people watching. Now, though, with nothing but herself and endless expanses of empty rooms...she had no tears left.
She was alone.
A familiar white-painted door loomed in the corner of her vision, bright blue snowflakes dancing with a joy that Anna did not feel. She made to walk past it, but for some reason-a small, nearly-gone flicker of hope, perhaps- stopped her. She shuffled to the door.
Years of memories washed over Anna, faint and bittersweet, as she stood before the slab of merrily-painted wood. She had no energy to resist, just let them wash over her. She raised one fist to the door. Paused, then knocked-not the childhood code, just three deep, heavy raps. Peered at it. Called her long-lost sister's name. Took a deep breath. And sang.
"Please, I know you're in there.
People are wondering where you've been.
They say have courage, and I'm trying to.
I'm right out here for you.
Just let me in.
We only have each other."
Anna leaned wearily against the wood and smiled at it- it was all she had left of her sister.
"It's just you and me.
What are we gonna do?"
She slid down the door, no longer having the energy to hold herself upright.
Anna paused. Grieved. Then said, in a choked whisper,
"Do you wanna build a snowman?"
Her voice broke. A tear fell, finally remembering what it was supposed to do. Quiet, choked sobs emanated from her- the softest sound Anna had ever made in her life.
On the other side of the door, a white-haired young woman sat curled up in a tight ball, a film of tears shrouding her dark blue eyes. Her gaze slid to the door as she listened to her sister's cries, then let out a stifled sob and buried her face in her arms.
No tears came. She hadn't any left.
After a while, in a voice thick with sorrow and clogged with exhaustion, Anna asked her sister one last question.
"Please, Elsa...tell me. Tell me why. Why you shut me out. Why you shut the world out. Please." Her voice broke. "I'm all alone."
Elsa brushed away a frozen teardrop...and said nothing.
Anna started rambling again. "Maybe you're really dead and I'm talking to a wooden door. Maybe, maybe you've been gone for a long time and Mamma and Poppa told me you were away so I wouldn't be upset. Maybe I'm the only one left."
She pleaded again, her voice trailing off into sleep. "Help me, Elsa. I'm all alone."
Elsa waited until Anna drifted off, as she had done so many times before. "I wish I could tell you why..." She whispered. She squeezed her sapphire eyes shut. "...But I can't."
They lay both in silence, Anna asleep, Elsa locked in a cold, fearful battle, yet they both thought of the same thing, somehow: The memory of a child, pure and sweet and full of hope, singing for a sister who would never return.
"Do you wanna build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman."
The End