Day Eight – Sunday
I wandered around the town, my hands in my pockets. I was in a foul mood; I'd snapped at Jon because he'd stayed over – he'd got completely drunk on Saturday and hadn't been in any condition to drive – and had been bemoaning the bad decisions that had lead him to have a hangover. He'd given me a faintly injured look which had turned into an understanding one and then he'd retreated to his room, leaving me feeling even worse. I'd much have preferred an argument.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when I walked into a someone. I glanced up, my phone appearing in my hand. "I'm sorry," he said, grinning sheepishly. I grinned and waved my hand, indicating that all was well. He nodded distractedly, and I noticed that his mind was drenched in tears.
"You okay?"
"What? Huh?" He looked up. "Yeah, I'm good." I probed a little deeper into his mind. Ah. An argument with his dad. I paused, driven by a desire to help. He'd wandered off and I surreptitiously followed.
I didn't want to probe into his mind too deeply, but that curious drive to help was still there, and I couldn't stop myself. His mind was screaming anyway; full of guilt and shame and regret. I glanced at the people on the street, wondering how they couldn't hear it.
I paused for a moment longer, and then gently voiced a small thought in his mind. I was right, but...he wasn't wrong. That seemed to be received well, so I decided that I could venture a little further.
I pretended to look in a window, admiring various works of art, as I planted another thought. I am being too lazy. I shouldn't spend all of my time out with my friends.
They're not my kind of people anyway, he thought, surprising me.
I can find better friends, I hazarded. To my shock he was in complete agreement. He seemed to take a deep breath and then he straightened and squared his shoulders.
I need to go and apologise – explain. He nodded to himself and turned back the way he had come, determined to put things right, or at least try.
He didn't even notice me. I grinned, a strange feeling of triumph buzzing through my head. Finally, my gift was actually a gift.
Day Nine – Monday
I stayed in my room, feeling terrible. I'd been feeling tired Saturday night and had gone to bed early, and woken up today unable to get out of bed. Whenever I sneezed or coughed snow and ice covered the room, which meant that I was completely alone. Anna had stayed for a few minutes, but had left when her presence just agitated me even more. She'd insisted that I'd never hurt her, but I knew that I had before and I'd quoted my rule about not being in command of my powers. Yes, she'd pouted a bit, but she'd agreed to leave.
I sneezed again, reaching for a tissue and sighed when it froze solid in my hands. I sniffed and looked mournfully around my ice-covered room. Just once, I thought, I wish that this curse could be useful. Could be helpful. Could be the gift that it is meant to be.
Oh, I could build snowmen with Olaf and I saved on heating in the winter and fans in the summer, but apart from that, what good was it really? I'd hurt Anna twice, hell, I'd almost killed Anna twice, and I was living in fear of my powers and how I could hurt people.
I snorted. Okay, maybe I wasn't living in fear; I'd done that for 13 years and I knew what it felt like, but sometimes, usually around 12 at night or 3 in the morning, when my nightmares were keeping me awake, or when my powers forced me to break off another friendship, shut out someone else out, that was when I believed the voices in my nightmares.
That was when I believed that my father could have thought of me as monster.
That was when I thought that I was too dangerous to be around.
That was when I wished that I could just run away again.
I'd tried that once, and it hadn't ended well with the police coming and arresting me, but I'd felt so free! Free of never-ending expectations and responsibilities and fears. Free to just be myself, without hurting anyone.
I sighed and rolled over, feeling the old feelings of guilt again. Of course, I hadn't even been able to do that. I couldn't just leave Anna, not when I knew that she needed me so much.
I'd never been able to figure out why my bubbly, optimistic sister thought that she needed me, but even I couldn't deny it. She needed someone to keep an eye on her. Yes, Kristoff was there, but he was a complete pushover when it came to Anna, and the amount of scrapes the two of them got into...
Anna needed someone to look out for her, to pick up after her. Someone who could remember to pay the bills. Someone who knew that chocolate didn't replace vegetables. If Anna had to do that herself then...she wouldn't be Anna any more. That essential part of her would have died, and I knew that I could never let that happen to her.
I closed my eyes, trying to find some inner strength to keep going; the kind that Anna seemed to find far too easily. And I failed.
I loved Anna far too much to give up, but I hated and feared this curse of mine too much to keep going.
I sighed. I had no idea what I was going to do. I just knew that living like this was tearing me apart.