Frozen Hearts
By- An Unknown Foreign Beauty
Chapter 10- Tears for the dearly departed
Elsa Kingsley had visited morgues before, too many times for her liking. At first her mother, lying cold and pale on a steel slab, so beautiful even after death. Before she could recover from the shock, she had to return to identify her grandparents, bloody and damaged in a car accident.
Elsa had never been so religious, but after that day she prayed to God that she had not to identify any more dead bodies of her family. But alas! Fate remained always so cruel with her. She returned home with a hope to protect Anna from the cruelty of the fate, but again the fate played the same old game with her.
Now she was standing here, at the verge of identifying Anna's body.
Elsa didn't know why this happened with her always. Why the people she loved died, while she always remained alive to mourn for them?
Elsa was grateful that Hans was still with her. After some dealings with the front desk, they were ushered to the morgue. Familiar smell of formalin and disinfectants trickled her nose. Elsa winced; that smell always made her sick, brought back bad memories. She feared that she would faint; if not Hans' strong arms were there to support her. She tilted her head to look at him. He gave her an encouraging nod when their eyes met. He encircled his arms around her shoulders tightly, and whispered, "Hope the news is false. Anna can't be dead. Trust me."
Elsa wanted to trust him. She wished Anna wasn't really dead. But deep inside her heart she knew it wasn't true. Anna was really dead. Guilt consumed her heart once more. He treated her so gently, and she had taken away his love away from him. Anna wanted to break the ice between them, and she drove her to the path of death. How many lives she would ruin? How many hearts she would break?
They were escorted to the autopsy room. Like a living dead, Elsa complied.
They stopped near a large white room, full of shelved cabinets made of cold metal. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, rubbed them lightly, as if her arms were cold. There was a body left on the autopsy table, covered with white sheet. Elsa turned her eyes away from the body, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if the body belonged to Anna….
"There it is.." Instead of leading them to the autopsy table the morgue attendant turned a key and pulled out a long slab from the shelved cabinet. Hans squeezed Elsa's hand, but Elsa let it go and she stepped closer to the metal slab. The attendant pulled the white sheet covering the body.
"The car you've mentioned was found abandoned near the lagoon. We've fished out this body from the water." The police officer said. Elsa saw the body and her knees buckled. She swayed as if she was hit by sudden gust of strong wind. Hans held her shoulders.
"Ah!" Elsa breathed viciously.
"Be strong, be strong," Hans chanted softly.
Elsa tried standing but couldn't. The autopsy technician got her a chair and she sank into it. Hans stood beside her, supporting her. The body was badly burnt, and the face was barely recognizable.
"Is that Anna Kingsley, ma'm?" The policeman asked.
Elsa stared at the body for a long time; she just couldn't believe that her beautiful sister could turn into a piece of burnt human remnant. Hans understood Elsa's hesitation. He turned to the police, gave her a sideways glance, and asked, "Is there anything else? I mean any other things with the body?"
"Oh, yes." The police officer nodded, "We've found her clothes." He turned to his subordinate who handed him a transparent plastic bag. "Here they are. That is all we've found with the body."
Elsa didn't move from her place, so Hans took the bag from the police. He recognized the clothes at once. Same green-ash fabrics, unmistakably belonged to the girl he met this morning. It was hard to believe the same girl he met this morning was so full of life, was lying here dead and unresponsive. He did know how he needed to feel now, how he needed to act. He walked near Elsa, who was sitting in the chair like a statue, and knelt in front of her. Placing the bag in her lap, he asked softly, "Elsa, look at this. Can you recognize any of these clothes?"
Elsa didn't reply, only shifted her gaze to the bag containing some burnt pieces of clothes. And she froze.
"Elsa?" Hans whispered, "Do these clothes belong to Anna?" He sounded as if he was searching for hope.
Two tears rolled from Elsa's eyes. She was searching for hope too. She wished she could lie about the clothes. She knew she couldn't change the truth; she couldn't bring Anna back to life. She knew this guilt would burn her endlessly as long as she drew breath. And it was driving her insane. She gazed deep into Hans' hopeful eyes, and whispered. "I'm sorry Hans, I'm so sorry."
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Alaska, same night
"I can't believe you watch that, Kristoff." Mrs. Bulda Troll strode across the room, and turned off the television which was broadcasting live news about Anna Kingsley's death. For her, the news stations only showed tasteless news, purely for the purpose of inciting excitement and curiosity rather than revealing the truth.
"Oh grandma," A slight moan of protest rose from her grandson, who was sitting on the sofa, "Why do you always have to do that?"
"Dammit, Kristoff!" Grandma exploded as she put down the coffee she brought for her grandson and stomped across the small living room to the fireplace. "You're wasting your time doing all that, when the only thing I'm interested to see you established with a bright career and a loving wife. I'm not getting any younger." With ruthless determination and flawless timing, she switched tactics from coercion to guilt, while Kristoff listened in impassive silence and growing anger to a genuine tirade that far surpassed all previous discussions on this particular subject. He shifted a yawn, and picked up some old newspapers lying on the table, pretending to read them. His careless behavior irritated the old woman more. She moved closer to her grandson, and snatched away the papers from him.
"Oh grandma…" Kristoff tried to ignore her angry glare, and tried to reach the papers, but Mrs. Troll slapped his hands down.
"If it weren't for me, you'd die at your step father's place like a street dog." A slight bark of protest rose from Sven, Kristoff pet dog, but Mrs. Troll ignored him completely. Jabbing her forefinger into Kristoff's chest for emphasis, she continued, "But I always believed in you, Kristoff. I encouraged you to go to college. I went to bat for you with your step father, and when he wouldn't listen, I gave you all my money so you could get a good education!" In the midst of her angry monologue, Mrs. Troll stopped and headed for the kitchen. "It's time for my medicine," she announced, "but I'm not finished. You stay right where you are until I get back."
Kristoff watched her pick her way around an old overstuffed chair and lamp table piled with magazines and said nothing. He had lost his job in supermarket after having an angry dispute with his employer. Then he spent rest of his money in buying a second-hand bike. He hadn't had a good day, and so far, the evening wasn't an improvement.
"Fancy a ride, Sven?" He turned his eyes to the white fox terrier sitting at his feet, as his grandmother disappeared into the kitchen. Sven barked in response. Kristoff quickly grabbed his coat from the hook, and cautiously opened the door. He threw a sideways glance at the kitchen where grandma was cooking dinner for two of them. As he reached the garage below, he heard grandma shouting in the upstairs.
"The lecture resumes." He chuckled at her concern, and turned the key. The bike roared into life.
The weather was unstable outside, the air was incredibly cold, and a wet gray fog blanketed the night, broken only by the faint eerie glow of lights along the street. The street was incredibly empty. Kristoff increased the speed. Despite being second hand, the bike was still in very good shape.
"What do you think, Sven?" Kristoff asked the dog in the backseat. Sven barked happily. Suddenly an alley cat screamed and bolted off a roof, startling Sven. He began to bark loudly, and Kristoff increased the speed to ditch the cat. At the same time a dark female figure staggered out of nowhere, and then materialized directly in front of Kristoff's bike.
"STEP ASIDE! LOOK OUT!" he called, but his voice was drowned out by the strong blowing of the wind. He pressed the brake, but he wasn't in time, the bike directly hit the girl, sending her flying onto the street, on her face. Kristoff killed the engine, got down from his bike, crouched down, and turned her over in his arms. She was petite; her face was small framed with the hair of the color of strawberry. She was only in her lingerie, and she was wet. She was shivering slightly, so Kristoff covered her with his coat.
"Are you alright, miss?" He asked with much concern. To his voice her eyes flattered open, and in the yellowish street light Kristoff saw that her eyes were of the color of ocean. She moved her lips in order to form some kind of word, "Anna…."
"Anna….what….?" Kristoff gave her a confused look. But her head fell back limply and blood began to run from the huge lump at the back of her scalp.
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