At this point, I feel like I just start posting only on AO3, is people here still alive? lololol

Anyway, hope this chapter makes sense, as I wrote it directly in English. I feel like it does, but who knows.

Usually, the stars on the ceiling were a source of comfort. It reminded her of the time she put up stars in her old bedroom, with her sister. Their latest shared obsession turned into a fun Christmas gift.

Now, it only helped Anna drown in the sensation she wasn't breathing enough air for her lungs, under the loud ring in her ears she kept trying to ignore.

Circle in, triangle out. Circle in, triangle out. Circle in, triangle out.

Anna closed her eyes, hoping that not seeing the darkness of her own room would help her relax and get over this stupid anxiety.

Yes, Anna was scared of the dark. What a walking joke.

Ok, not the dark per se, that'd be ridiculous but it would make more sense than her actual fear of 'something moving in the dark'. That was what scared her the most, actually. The idea that there could be something, anything waiting until her guard was low so it could attack. Double the joke.

Shit, wait, what that weird shape, near her wardrob–?

A pile of clothes she forgot to fold and put away. Okay. Good. Great.

Anna closed her eyes again.

Think about nice things, like napping by the beach after a long volleyball match with her (not really) cousins, and then maybe getting a smoothie. Or churros. Or ice cream. Damn, that chocolate ice cream with berry sauce and nuts was gr–

A creak of wood.

Anna opened her eyes, fist ready in case she had to throw a punch at–

Nothing.

Only the very same darkness as every other night, and her own heartbeat thump-thumping in her chest, echoing up to her ears.

Shit. Shit shit shit. She had to get it together. It was only a stupid, stupid dream with the stupid, stupid idea that something was going to attack her and strangle her. As if she was a zebra in the middle of the savannah, instead of a dumbass teen lying on the bed in the middle of the night, in a city where the worst predator one could find was a flying cockroach or a rat.

Ok, yeah. A flying cockroach was terrifying and nightmare worthy, but that was the hypothetical case. Nothing was flying towards her, no moving shadows ready to pounce and tear the air away from her lungs like in that bad dream, no nothing.

Sleeping alone wasn't an option. So she forced her body to turn to the side, looking down to the trundle bed.

"Els," Anna called her slowly, not daring to shake her elbow. There were times her sister would wake up at the sound of a leaf falling and others not even fireworks worked. "Els."

Tonight it was the former, it seemed.

"Hm? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah, just… it's just–" Just her being dumb over something without meaning. "Can… Can I sleep with you?" Anna needed to sleep next to someone to not feel so crappy, that was it. No biggie. Or course, Elsa to the side to make space between the side of Anna's bed and herself. Just like when they were kids.

And just like when they were kids, Anna took her bear plushing pillow (Elsa always complained she stole hers and left her with the mattress), and settled under the covers.

"Was it a nightmare?" Her sister started brushing her hair. A nice gesture, a relaxing one. Anna would always go to Elsa's bed when she couldn't sleep when they were kids and her parents told her she was too old to go to their bed, that she had to be a big girl. But Elsa had a tendency to spoil her too much. Would let her on her bed even when she was tired, and would mumble a lullaby, or make up different conversation topics to distract her, or do this, when she had real nightmares. The kind that left her shaking. Would hug her and run her finger through Anna's hair.

"More like a bad dream. I don't even know why it made me nervous." It made her feel bad that her sister was getting that impression. She just wanted to sleep next to someone. Know she wasn't alone if anything were to happen. "It wasn't that bad, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh." Anna liked the protection, either way. The feeling of those nice little shivers traveling down her spine, and she found herself hugging her bear and snuggling more against her sister. She hadn't had this type of comfort in years, so pure and comforting, it made Anna want to cry and swallow her tears at the same time.

It made Anna feel loved and cared for, and she closed her eyes, basking in the overall feeling.

The first thing Anna noticed as soon as she stepped into the bedroom, was that Elsa didn't lie when she said she never took the stars off the ceiling.

Not that Anna didn't trust her word, but seeing something was different than hearing about it. Besides, it felt that it was proof, somehow, that she lived in this house, too. Until one day she didn't, and Elsa painted the walls a soft lilac and added one of those paper lamps that matched the translucent white curtains by the window, over the desk.

Oddly impersonal, but maybe Elsa had already taken down some things on earlier visits, where Anna didn't come along to help and nobody asked her to, either. But it wasn't like she could ask, right at this moment, as her sister seemed way too inside her mind to even bother.

Anna did try to make conversations to pass the time though, while putting some of Elsa's desk stuff into a cardboard box, like her endless art supplies. Or the Disneyworld snow globe she still kept by the side of the bed, or a sculpted miniature of Les Eclaireurs Lighthouse that prompted a short anecdote and got them talking about memories of winter vacations in different places over the country.

And then they were back to putting things away like two strangers emptying an office for work.

So Anna tried again, and again, and was met with the same short answers and uncomfortable silences.

So much so, there was a point she felt compelled to ask.

"You okay, Els?" Obviously not, but that was the point, right? Offering the space to talk about… every single thing they haven't really talked about in ages.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Yeah." Elsa blinked several times, as if she was coming down from another world. "Sorry I'm so quiet. It's just that I made this mental checklist and I'm trying to make sure I don't forget anything." So she kept wrapping that snow globe in newspaper, inviting this uncomfortable silence to stay all over again.

Anna only nodded, a little bit pissed off. Closed-off Elsa meant not-okay Elsa, which concluded in not-gonna-tell-Anna-a-thing-and-instead-say-I'm-fine Elsa. Like, sure, no one was expecting anyone to be doing alright during circumstances like this, and surely her older sister imagined that the day she had to pack her stuff would be the day she moved out. But she could at least try not to lie to Anna's face like she was a little kid who couldn't pick up moods.

"Do you want me to start with something else like, um, I don't know… clothes?"

"Thanks, but my clothes are all kept in organizers by type and color, so that'll be easy." Anna rolled her eyes. Of course she would. Order freak. "Aren't you going to check your things?"

"I have things?" Elsa stopped short with her second layer of newspaper and looked at her, as if making sure Anna was joking. "No, really, they kept my stuff? I thought they gave it away or something."

"Why would you ever think that?" A scoff. Anna swallowed down a 'because they liked to pretend I don't exist?' for the sake of maintaining peace and not starting useless arguments. "I believe everything's in the storage room by the garage."

The storage room by the garage. Wow. Great.

See? Forgotten. Duh.

Ok, ok. She had to stop this or she'd be the one to answer in monosyllables.

"Okay, I'll… I'll go do that then, I guess." Her sister simply nodded, again up in whatever it was her mind wandered to, and Anna set on stepping out of the room into…

The hall.

A normal hall with a bathroom door to the left and a master bedroom at the end, where the stairs to the main floor began. Normal was the keyword here, because it didn't have anything to make it different from any other house. White wall with wooden doors and timber floors was the most common and boring decor ever. Maybe those few random paintings her parents inherited were not as common, though equally as boring.

Why, then, was Anna so scared? She almost jumped when she heard her sister move a cardboard box, a few meters behind her. Now her heartbeat could be felt through her chest, and she moved toward the stairs as if she was scared a serial killer would hear her. Which was stupid, and exaggerated, and Anna hadn't watched any scary movies nor paranormal stuff in a very long while, so it didn't make any sense.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, and that she went through this very same feeling not too long ago. In real life (besides last night, obviously).

So it clicked.

This wasn't new.

The source was here, by this house.

Maybe it was all just because she was standing right by the master bedroom. Her parents' bedroom. Which had always been off-limits to her, for some reason. At least in the last few years she lived here, where she barely dared stand by the doorframe.

This was too much, she could feel the thrill of the suspense music rising in her head like in a movie. A movie where she'd be the dumb ass kid that stood by a forbidden door as, who knows, the handle opened on itself or a sound came from inside the room even when it was supposed to be empt—

Oh fuck what if a sound came from inside the room?

Oh shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

Her feet rushed down the stairs in familiar motions, turning around at the landing and once again until she practically jumped to the main floor from the last step.

Feeling a little bit too exaggerated and stupid, Anna took a deep breath and let it go in a slow motion, trying to calm down her heartbeat. It just… threw Anna off a bit, the fact that everything was in the same place. Same kinda-vintage-but-not-really furniture, same walls from which hang tourist souvenirs from different countries or provinces they'd visited, same family pictures all over the entry hall and the living room.

Pictures like vacations in different places like the Salinas Grandes up north, or drinking hot chocolate in some restaurant in Ushuaia, or just normal everyday things like a mini version of herself with half a face covered in ice cream, or a younger version of her grandpa with a toddler Elsa with chubby cheeks and tiny high ponytails. They even hung Anna's yearly elementary school and kindergarten pictures, which, ew, the last one was kinda awful. Anna thought she looked so cool with her improved side part and that ugly flower headband. Why had no one stopped her?

Oh, right. She wasn't living in this house by that time.

That time was hard to describe, though, as Anna didn't even remember it. The last part of her fifth and the beginning of her sixth grade was a blur in Anna's memory. It was the time she left, after all.

The picture that caught Anna's attention the most was the newest one of the bunch: one of the four of them at Elsa's quinces, all dressed up with genuine smiles. They did have a good time that night. Her sister didn't want a traditional party with the vals and the big entryway and everything, so she had to do a smaller party at a little salon, so all the preparations took a week instead of months as normal one would. It still was the perfect excuse to doll up with pretty dresses and put on enough makeup that they looked older than they were. And to end up opening up expensive gifts in this very same living room, while eating a whole box of Swiss chocolates.

Anna did remember they spent a lot of time together during those few days, even with her mom, and there was a point she thought things would go back to normal. That when it was all done and over with, they were going to tell her that she had a bedroom of her own, that they'll tell her to spend the Holidays with them.

Nonetheless, here she was. And the fact that Anna wasn't in the very same situation as her sister probed everything.

Ok, ok. Going down the depressive overthinking path again. Perhaps it was time to stop dwelling on things that happened like, two years ago. See the good things. Like the fact that she had stuff and maybe she'll find something she thought lost forever.

Plus, her sister was right. Maybe it wasn't that their parents ditched her. Kai and Gerda would always make this kind of uncomfortable face every time Anna said that, and then would start with a "well, it's not that simple…" or the like. But, why? No one ever answered. It was Anna the one that had to go looking for answers at every corner, dusting away the cobwebs.

Kai and Gerda were sitting at the kitchen table, checking a small pile of folders and setting some papers aside. Anna guessed that was the documentation they needed… for what Kai explained to her at least three times but she never managed to retain it in her head.

"Everything alright, love?" Gerda asked her, and it sounded halfway casual halfway checking in on her. Anna nodded, trying not to seem too curious looking around the kitchen and noticing that everything remained unchanged here, too. Old kindergarten gifts still hanging from the walls, along with one or two of those typical old family pictures.

"Yeah, Elsa told me there's some stuff of mine over here so I wanted to check it out. It's, um, it's okay if I wanna take some stuff with me, too, right?" Anna felt compelled to ask, just in case. Not like she was thinking of bringing furniture or anything big, really, but they came here to get her sister's things, not hers. Maybe there wasn't enough space in the back of the car or–

"Of course, Annie! Let us know if you need any help." Kai seemed as perplexed as Elsa that she asked such a question. But Anna had to make sure, even if her uncle was just like Elsa in the spoiling sense, and if she asked him right now to take her home (her actual home) he'll drop everything to drive her back to the house.

"Sure." And with that, Anna turned to her right, as the storage room was in the hall that connected the garage with the kitchen. It wasn't either too big or too small, and besides a metal shelving for the groceries of the month, there was a bed frame and some boxes with things they never got around to use like that treadmill that her parents never got rid of. And, well, all labeled boxes with Anna's things.

Anna's clothes. Anna's school projects. Kindergarten. Elementary school, first to third and and fourth to sixth. Desk things. Toys.

When her sister said 'things', she thought she meant baby clothing and a few souvenirs. Not this. Not that every single thing of hers seemed to be here, as if it was a moment frozen in time, and now she was wondering if her bike, skates and hockey gear would be in the garage, too.

Anna rubbed her eyes and forced herself to blink away her tears, looked for a kpop playlist with some background upbeat music to keep her from going places with this threatening silence, and sat down, ready to open all these boxes. To pretend this was a day like any other where she was moving houses just by chance.

She started with her school things, like those big envelopes from kindergarten with drawings and activities done all year long, or the ton of different color notebooks from elementary school in Spanish, German, and English. Even some of the costumes she had to wear for traditional days were kept, and some other princess costumes from when she was like, four or five years old. Her clothes from when she was around ten, all neatly folded and kept in bags with mothballs. The constellation night lamp that came with the stars from the ceiling, her old adult coloring books, all the stupid stuff she used to have over her desk when she was el—

Her diary.

Her old unicorn-themed diary, which she kept hidden in her wardrobe not only for privacy purposes, but also because she was kinda ashamed to think unicorns were cute at that age. The one where she wrote every single event of her life.

Could it be?

Maybe all her answers lay here. Her mom used to sit them down with a blank page and a pencil and told them to let it all out in whichever way they found. It was so ingrained into her that to this day she sometimes would sit down to paint mandalas, when she felt a cloud over her head. Letting it out on paper worked for her, a lot of times.

But really, could it be? Could have Anna written about a time she now doesn't remember? Was it even possible to do so? Because, that was the root of the problem here, the reason she started therapy. Everything was fine in her head until she turned eleven in the middle of the year, and then the latter half and the first half of the next year didn't exist in her memory. She knew some details, yes, like the fact they went to summer camp all day long, or that her parent's marriage was going through a crisis again. Those types of things.

The rest? Absolutely nothing. Anna didn't know what was worse, to be honest. Having complete knowledge she blocked for a reason, or not knowing and wondering through the possibilities. Possibilities she was already exploring at therapy at a very surface level still.

And there was the thing with her family, too. Her parents and all the questions left without an answer. Why, was it that they always acted as if they were hiding something, or they just didn't include her in their life to the fullest. Or the fact that she could never have a real conversation with her sister.

Something told Anna every answer she needed was here.

So she took a deep breath, and looked for the key to her diary in the box until she found it inside a folder of a planner she never used. A miniature key for a miniature lock, trembling along with the fingers holding it. It didn't stop her, though, from placing it in the lock and opening it with a quick twist.

Fuck it.

There was no way back.

With a deep breath, Anna opened her diary and started reading.