Too Much of a Good Thing
Note: This is a much more serious, deeper, and darker way of dealing with the characters of Frozen. I'm basically taking the characters of Frozen and taking the Disney influence out of them. In this chapter, you might think that Anna is out of character, but I would just like to assure you that love does not come to everyone like that. I will clarify in the chapter.
oOoOo
I killed my sister.
The guilt tasted bitter in my mouth. I am standing outside her door, waiting for the doctor to let me in, much to my annoyance. She is my sister, after all. I have a right to see her.
Even if I did kill her.
Nothing ever good happens to me. After meeting a wonderful guy like Hans, I knew it was only a matter of time before the Universe caught on to the fact that I was actually happy and punished me for it.
I guess this time, the Universe was watching me the whole time.
It's my fault, I decided. I was the one who pushed her. The words that I had said stung me when I repeated them afterwards. If it hurt me that much, I wonder how much it hurt Elsa.
When I was five, I remember first seeing Elsa close the door on me. When I looked at her through the narrowing slit between the door and the wall, she looked at me with remorse, loneliness, and fear in her eyes. I kept on trying to knock on her door, and for a month, it was just customary to walk up to her and ask if she wanted to build a snowman.
"Why is she ignoring me?" I asked tearfully to my mom.
"Because she loves you, Honey."
I still don't understand that particular piece of logic.
I'm still trying to decide whether or not this is the best, or worst day of my life. I met Hans- plus 1 point for best day. The gates opened- plus 1 point for best day. I got engaged- plus 1 point for best day. He's amazing- plus 1 point for best day.
But, my sister collapsed, and it was partly my fault. Plus 1 point for the worst day. I'm having a psychological war with myself- plus 1 point for worst day. Hans was forced to leave the Arendelle, along with all the guests- plus 1 for worst day.
"Princess?" A voice jerks me out of my thoughts. "It's the Queen; she's awake."
As I entered my sister's room, it was then when I realized that I had never actually been in Elsa's room. She moved out of our shared room a long time ago, and she never opened the door to me. The first thought that struck me was that it was very blue. There was a notable difference in room temperature, and was actually quite small, considering the fact that Elsa spent ninety percent of her life in here, doing God knows what.
I let my eyes drift over the room before looking at Elsa. Perhaps that was my own, wretched way of dealing with guilt. Perhaps it was a way to delay my fears, but I'm cowardly like that. I have always been, and always will be, a coward.
She looked weak. Her already pale skin had a ghostly-tinge to it, and her breathing was shallow and labored. She acknowledged my presence with the slightest tilt of her head, just so I could come within the peripherals of her vision.
"Hi."
That's the second time in my life she's instigated a conversation with me. Perhaps I should feel honored, really, that the Queen has finally decided to acknowledge me as a human being.
"Hey." My reply was mechanic, and definitely not the reply a normal sister would give to an older sister she nearly killed. Not that we were ever normal siblings, anyways.
There was a long silence after that. For almost ten minutes, we just stared at each other, enjoying the not-so-blissful silence that permeated the air around us. I appreciated it. I've learned more about my sister in those ten minutes than I ever did in my 18 years of life. I noticed the way she would look down at her gloved hands every so often, almost with caution. I noticed the fact that she would try to take a deep breath every few seconds, but being physically unable to do so, she would sigh, almost in annoyance. Then, she would glance down at her hands once again, as if some sort of powerful secret were embedded in her flesh, and she would do anything she could to prevent anyone from finding it out.
"Does it hurt?" I asked out loud, blurting out my thoughts.
Elsa seemed to think, long and had about the answer, which I didn't quite understand. It either didn't hurt, or did hurt. What was there to think about?
"I'm just cold." She says finally with a strained voice, and we fell silent again.
"That's not really answering the question." I replied after a while. I couldn't bear to look at her, so instead, I decided to look at out the window. The sun was setting, shading the entire sky in different tints, tones, and shades of red, orange, and yellow.
"When does anything answer the question?"
I have to admit that I do not have an answer for that.
oOoOo
Either my social skills were sorely lacking, or Elsa and I were two random strangers forced together at birth, and I strongly suspect the latter. While I was with her, our conversation was choppy at best. We talked about really, really random things. Favorite colors, favorite books, and favorite music. Her answers were all completely different from mine. Over time, though, we began to talk more about...us. As in, us, as siblings. "Us" never existed before. It was always "Elsa" and "Anna". Never together. I always suspected that Elsa was hiding some sort of big secret. It was just something that I always dreamed of being one of the reasons on why she started ignoring me.
I remember a time when I was really, really little. I know I was really, really little because this memory had Elsa actually talking to me, as a sister. We were eating cookies shaped in all sorts of exotic animals.
"Mommy!" I cried, holding up a cookie that had a long trunk and a big body with four legs. "What's this?"
"That's an elephant, dear," My mother replied, smiling.
"What does it say?" I asked, taking a bite out of the trunk.
"Toot!" Elsa cried, holding up her own elephant cookie before devouring it in one bite.
I laughed, and picked up another cookie. This one had an outrageously long neck; and a small head at the top. "What's this, Mommy?" I asked again, holding it up right in front of her face.
My mom looked at it for a second before replying. "That's a giraffe, honey."
"That's a funny name," I giggled. "What does it say? Geeeeeeee? Geeeeeee?"
Elsa picked up the same cookie and stared at it, long, and hard. Nobody answered my question.
"Mommy? What does the giraffe say?" I asked again, this time seriously.
"Nothing, sweetie," She answered, pinching my cheek.
"What!" I yelled indignantly. "Why not?" I cried out loud.
"Because that's how they're was born," My mother replied simply, and then I noticed that my sister had left the room.
oOoOo
I must have fell asleep some time after that, because I remember being shaken awake by the Doctor while still sleeping in Elsa's chair beside her bed.
"Princess, is it alright if we talk outside?" He whispered, gesturing towards my sleeping sister.
I nodded silently, and hopped off the chair. Glancing back at my sister, I closed the door behind me.
"Do you love your sister?"
I opened my mouth to say "of course", but quickly closed it.
Do I love my sister?
"Yes" would be what a normal sister would say, and much as I feel that I do love her, part of me doesn't actually have a connection to her. I love the idea of my sister. I love the idea of her, and the idea of what she and I would do as sisters. My idea of a sister would talk to me about boys (like Hans), we would fight over clothes, and we would be best friends. The real Elsa, and the idealistic Elsa, however, could not be more different.
So, no, I don't love Elsa. I love my sister.
There was a very clear distinction in my mind.
"I don't know her very well." I replied truthfully, and my heart swelled shut.
The Doctor looked at me with pained eyes, filled with pity. "That's not really answering the question", he says, and I fall silent, Elsa's voice replaying in my head.
When does anything answer the question?
oOoOo
I don't think the Doctor liked me very much. After unsuccessfully trying to get me to talk about my sister's past medical condition, which I honestly did not know (although he didn't believe me when I tried to tell him that), he brought me to the library and lectured me on the importance of observation.
"It is important to observe the welfare of others!" He repeated. "Like your sister, why do you know nothing about her?"
Something inside me snapped. But if it wasn't my fault, whose fault was it?
"Look, I've been having a really long day. I got engaged, my sister got mad, because, you know, we just met, and your lecturing isn't doing anything. Can you now please stop beating around the bush, and just tell me what's wrong with her, already? Why is she so pale? And cold? Why is her room cold?" I started, heat rising to my face. "Is it my fault? Should I not have asked for a blessing? But we need her blessing! She's the queen, and my sister for Heaven's sakes! I can't ju-"
"Your sister needs a new heart."
"-st STOP T-" I stopped. "Excuse me?"
"Your sister needs a new heart," the Doctor repeated, articulating every syllable.
I laugh. It's the sort of laugh that you can't control- not because the situation was really funny, it just seemed like the only appropriate thing that I could do without seeming fake, or corny.
"That's really funny. Seriously, Doc, what's wrong with her?"
"I said the same sentence two times already, and I don't want to say it again," he answered, folding his arms across the test.
"One does not simply need a new heart. Does that mean her heart isn't functioning? Then how is she alive?" I challenged. I felt brave, and reckless, but I was just making excuses. Elsa can't possibly need a heart. But then again, a real sister can't possibly shut her own sibling out, true love can't possibly be real, and I can't possibly not love Elsa. Yet, here we are, every single one of those laws of the Universe are being broken one by one, in none other than in my life.
"I'm not quite sure of the phenomenon. I took her pulse yesterday, and not only was she frighteningly cold-" the Doctor paused, and shivered. I don't know if he did it for effect, or if he was actually cold, but it certainly did it's job.
"-and her pulse was extremely weak. So I decided to put her in an X-Ray-" I opened my mouth to object, but he continued on.
"-It's a new invention, and perfectly safe, mind you. It makes it possible to look inside the human body. And her heart- it wasn't beating at all! Perfectly stationary! Yet, the pulse was there, and she's still alive, so the question is also, what's beating her heart?" The Doctor finished with a crazed look in his eye. His toothbrush mustache bristled with excitement.
I, however, was not convinced. "So, you think that chopping out her heart and putting a new one in is going to get it going again? How does that even work?"
"Well," He started, "If she doesn't get a new heart, she's going to die soon."
I nod.
"But it can't just be any heart. The will have to be a heart from a family member."
And then I remembered my parents are dead.