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akp-1327 · 4 years ago

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dear diary // chapter three

Hey! Long time, no see! I am so, so, so sorry that this chapter is late. I’ve been having a bit of a busy time recently and haven’t had many opportunities to write/edit like usual. But now I have a looser schedule so updates to the series should go back to normal! 😄 I hope you are all doing okay wherever you are! :)

Find the series masterlist here to catch up on the previous chapter!

Word count: 4.6k

(*) Warnings: mentions of bankruptcy and emotional abuse

All I could see was red. The anger that flowed through my veins was terrifyingly smooth, leaving my entire body shaking. The news that my mom just told me, well, sobbed to me, left me in awe. In terrible, heart-wrenching, shocking...awe.

Sweetie, my mom’s sweet and clear voice bellowed through my memory, I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry, darling.

“Charlotte, you need to calm down. Seriously. I don’t know what’s--” Leila said softly, her hands firm on my shaking shoulders.

At a time like this, I didn’t need her soothing me. I needed her to slap me out of this impending doom that I thought would tear me apart. I needed to get a grip on reality, to comprehend that this entire nightmare was actually happening.

“Leila, do you know what my mom just told me?” I huffed, throwing my phone onto the tidy bed that I had just made. Our first night in New York had started off amazingly, as if it was taken straight out of a movie; we met new and amazing people, found Leila’s wayward bag, explored the dorm building...

Then, when called my mom once we got back to our dorm...everything came crashing down like a colossal, teetering tower of Jenga blocks.

Leila scowled at me then, squeezing my shoulders harder. Her eyes, usually a coffee bean brown, looked inky black when her entire demeanor changed from confused to quite ticked off. I immediately regretted the tone I used, though there was no going back now.

“Does it look like I do? God, you can be so dense sometimes!” Leila stated, glaring right into my eyes with a look that sent a chill down my spine. “Something’s up and you need to tell me immediately.”

This wasn’t something that I thought I could even have the guts to say. But, sooner than I though, words started forming on the tip of my tongue at the speed of light; but one stood out in particular, one chilling me to the bone.

“Bankrupt.”

This set her back, making her hands falter a bit on my shoulders.

“What? Charlotte, I need deta--”

“The diner, Leila.”

The words slowly tore my heart into microscopic pieces. Every notable memory I had from my childhood took place at the diner. I could distinctly remember the scent of buttermilk pancake batter being mixed and the sounds of plates being stacked. I could remember the outside, the bright yellow paint standing out against the lifeless gray colors of the neighborhood that it’s surrounded by.

“T-The Golden Griddle?” Leila asked, confusion consuming her features once more. The intense look in her eyes slowly fizzled out and turned into pure fret. As she’d always been, Leila was not well-composed in these types of situations.

“Yes. There’s just too many complications with the building, too many expenses and so little money...” I sighed sadly. Tears welled in my eyes, though I didn’t need to show Leila that. And so, with a deep breath, I sniffled and shook my head to clear the emotions away. “My dad spent what he could to fix the cheaper things like the light fixtures and seats, but then he got carried away with fixing the rest of the bigger issues. It all added up over time, Leila. Now the diner...the diner doesn’t have anything left.”

The diner had so, so many issues for such a long time. The interior, for as long as I could remember, was small. There were only ten tables, half of those being booths that lined the walls, in total. The kitchen was also considerably compact for the amount of business that the diner would face. My parents always wanted to get around to renovate properly, but could never keep up with the overwhelming amounts of money spent on necessities like ingredients, napkins, utensils, advertisements...so DIY projects and repairs it was.

“But your parents still own it, right? They can bounce back?”

My heart yearned to be at home with my family. Why would I leave? God, I really am dense. Forget school, forget dreams. Home is where I should’ve been when that news was unveiled, not thousands of miles away.

“No. I guess the health inspector said that there were so many things with the building that set off a lot of red flags. He condemned it right on the spot.”

Leila’s eyebrow’s furrowed in thought. It was never easy for me to talk about these things - the serious things - with her. Of course, though, she knew almost everything about me; she knew that I was never the “open book” type and would always need a bit of encouragement to work my way up to talking things through. I’d rather sit and wallow in my misery than get help. The whole mindset had definitely not been ideal for anyone, but that was always the least of my worries.

The moment Leila looked back into my eyes was the moment she started to speak, her voice soft like it was before; again, I didn’t need to be sympathized, I needed to be able to see reason. This whole thing caught me completely off-guard.

Leila whispered, shaking her head, “How did this even happen?”

In high school, a very wise teacher of mine once said that there is no such thing as a stupid question, only stupid people who ask questions. However, by the looks of it, this was definitely an exception. Even with her ingenious, Leila had just asked one of the stupidest questions known to man.

She knew exactly how this happened, and has known for years. The Golden Griddle’s financial instability had never, ever been able to be kept secret in a town such as Ceder Cove, no matter how many times my parents tried.

“Oh, wait. Sorry.” Leila stammered, looking up at the ceiling to collect herself.

“It’s fine. I just can’t fathom what my parents are going through right now. Henry, too.” I sighed, stepping back from Leila and letting my shoulders deflate. I slowly sat on the edge of my bed and crossed my legs, my gaze trained on the aged wood floor. “Even if I should, I’m not calling my mom back with more details tonight. This...this is just too much for me to handle right now.”

Leila was silent and I looked up to see her scrolling through her phone.

Seriously? I cleared my throat to get her attention...but she didn’t even flinch.

“Leila. Are you even listening to me? Or...are you texting Skye?”

Leila’s eyes immediately averted from her phone to look at me. The smallest hint of a blush crept into her cheeks, though she played it off and rolled her eyes.

“Actually, Erin wants to take us shopping for the party next week when we’re available. Check your phone.” Leila stated, a defensive edge in her tone. I was the one to roll my eyes this time.

Now, let’s get this straight; I am not fond of parties. Leila had dragged me to each homecoming, each winter formal, and the two prom nights that we had. My date to prom both years, a guy named Harold Longhorn (a total snob), would not shut up about politics or the “oh-so-stupid” stock market. I only went with him because he said he’d tutor me for free with my AP Euro and AP Chem homework in collateral. Oh, and did I mention that his dad is a major entrepreneur in the Portland area? Wait, that’s unimportant; just like every single party I’ve ever been to in my life.

“Do I have to go? I’d rather stay here and reread Pride & Prejudice for the millionth time or something that I actually enjoy. Dancing the night away doesn’t sound as interesting to me as my daily dose of Mr. Darcy.”

Leila scoffed and looked over at me again, her eyebrow quirked in such a way that left me a bit uneasy.

“News flash, Charlotte Parker, but Mr. Darcy is fictitious and will not save you from this.” Leila scolded, though she was playful about it. “I’m not letting you stay here because you’re a college girl now and you need to socialize with people other than me!”

“Ughhhh,” I groaned, laying down onto my bed and turning away from her and burying my face into my pillow that sadly smelt like home, “you sound just like my mom!”

Leila burst out into laughter that sent a faint chill down my spine. Whatever her plans were, she knew I’d loathe them.

“I’m glad.”

August 10th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Okay. Sorry for the radio silence. Lots has happened over the course of a couple weeks that I need to get off my chest. As Scar would say, be prepared...

First off, NYU is amazing. I’ve already met lots of (!!) people, though 4 have become friends! Two girls, two guys: Skye, Erin, Rory, and Ajay. They’re all really down-to-earth and genuinely cool people that I’m getting along with!

Rory and Leila are really like two peas in a pod, and so are Skye and Leila. Leila is just a social butterfly, so she honestly gets along with everyone. Erin and Ajay, though, are more mellow and easy-going. Erin is so...laid back? Like she’s the type of person that you could spill your life story to. She’s just so, I don’t know... nonchalant? - definitely in a good way.

However, I feel more drawn to Ajay; we share similar interests and outlooks on life. He even saw my performance at Spotlite! He’s also a student director here at NYU, so if I do somehow wind up in the show, I’d probably work with him. It even helps that he’s kinda cute, but you didn’t hear that from me.

Overall, though, the campus is absolutely stunning and the view from our dorm window takes my breath away each and every morning.

Second, The Golden Griddle is doomed right now due to both bankruptcy and condemnation. My parents are all torn up about it, and to be blatantly honest, so am I. The diner has always been a home away from home, and now that I may have to face losing it forever...

Third, I HATE PARTIES. With a deep, burning passion.

Leila, if you’re reading this, then you can call me George Eacker: piss off because I’m watching this show - also known as Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist - now...well..when you’re at the party! There’s no way in hell that I’m stepping foot into anything resembling a disco or a dance or even, god forbid, a hoedown like that one during our sophomore year. Nope, nope, nope. Over my dead body.

All in all, I’m having a wonderful time settling into my new life in New York. Of course I miss home, but I also feel like it was time for me to spread my wings and learn to fly!

Alright. I gotta run. I’m going shopping. And, yes, it’s regrettably for this pointless party that I’m being forced to go to against my will.

Talk, er, write soon!

Charlotte :)

“Ooo, what’re you writing about?” Leila asked, barging back into our slightly messy dorm after finishing with her morning routine. I hastily closed my diary and forced a smile.

“Um, it’s just the address of my uncle’s new house! Mom said to write it down somewhere in case I lost my phone.”

Shoot. Thank God Leila wasn’t really paying much attention to catch how bad of an excuse that was; she just turned her back to me and scavenged through a pile of dirty clothes already heaped in the corner by her closet. It’s been six days since we’ve moved in. I still haven’t really organized nor have I gotten around to calling my parents or Henry with updates about the diner.

“Right, right. He moved a couple days ago. Though, with our plans today, are you ready to go? Erin and Skye are already waiting for us downstairs.” Leila said, grabbing her purse. I gave her a scowl and grabbed my own, sighing as I slung it on my shoulder.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. But I have one quick question,” I said, finally catching her attention, “why are you wearing those?”

My eyes went to the unscuffed black stilettos on her feet; they had to have been at least 5 inches tall. She laughed and instinctively brought one of her ankles up to rub it as if she’d been in pain. The stilettos were paired with a pair of skinny and holey whitewash jeans and a black Shinedown sweatshirt with a crow and a butterfly printed in white; from what I remember, that was one of the band’s songs.

“I’m wearing these to the party so I figured I’d break them in a little first. And I need to find a dress that looks good with them, so why not?”

“Fair warning, you might actually break something else before you walk a block in those death traps.” I teased, making her huff. This was obviously not something she wanted to hear, but let’s remember who was dragging me to this stupid party in the first place. My sarcasm comes with the territory!

“Jesus, you make it sound like I’m breaking a law! They’re just heels!” Leila laughed, shaking her head. Her hair had been in two Dutch braids, making her outfit even more unique. To each their own, I suppose.

“Just heels that might put you on crutches,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I slipped my (comfortable) light pink flip flops on. We headed down to the lobby and quickly spotted Erin, chatting with Rory and Ajay, and Skye standing a little off to the side.

“Ah, there you guys are!” Erin grinned, running over and leading us over to the group.

“I thought this was a girl trip?” I asked, playfully eyeing the guys. Ajay gave a tight-lipped smile and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, it is. We were just heading out to find Rory another outfit that he apparently needs because his six other ones aren’t enough.” Ajay explained, making direct eye contact with me. I could see the different blends of brown tinges in his eyes - the light from both the windows and the bulbs above hitting just the right angles - shimmer behind his glasses. I also noticed that he was wearing a simple green t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts with black Nike’s.

Wait, what?

“I may have a slight obsession with shopping,” Rory said sheepishly, slowly creeping away from the group, “but I also need something fresh. I can’t be seen in the same maroon shirt that I wore to--”

Ajay’s groan interrupted him but he followed in Rory’s footsteps with a small shrug. “We’ll be going now. Have fun.”

I immediately felt myself missing his eyes. The brown sparkles that caught my own. Was it so wrong to find his eyes...gorgeous? Didn’t think so.

As they waved goodbye, Leila migrated from my side to Skye’s. The redhead looked particularly sad today, but let out the slightest trace of a smile when Leila started talking to her.

“So, where’re we going to go first, o’ wise Erin?” I asked, turning to her. She looked a bit lost in thought, a bit dazed when our eyes met, but I could tell she regained herself before she answered.

“Well, I thought we’d take a trip to The Shops today,” Erin said smugly, her hand resting on her hip, “we can take an Uber in case we want to make other stops along the way!”

Skye visibly revolted at the thought, her arms tightening around her chest and her glower intensifying. The way her blue eyes darkened was just a bit unsettling, too.

“Okay. Sounds good...” I sighed, gripping my leather purse strap a bit tighter.

“Sure,” Skye groaned, “good. Great. Grand. Just how I wanted to spend my day.”

The nearby mall, The Shops, had a wide array of stores that we buzzed in and out of, Erin and Leila eagerly leading the way.

“You know,” I said, looking over at Skye, “I really don’t understand why we need new clothes for this party.”

Skye shrugged. “Me neither. I never really had to get new clothes for the banquets that I went to as a kid with my parents.”

I instantly noticed that her hands were in tight fists at her sides.

“What do your parents do?” I asked, trying to keep her talking. I really wanted to get to know her better; she was still such a mystery and I was destined to change that.

Though, the bitter grimace she gave at the question was all the hint that I needed to know that I’d said something wrong, maybe even crossed a line.

“They do nothing but make a lot of money and prioritize themselves over anything else, even their own kids.”

Oh, wow. I blinked rapidly, willing my brain to say, something, anything, to break the agonizing silence building between us.

“Oh. I’m sorry I brought it up.” I stammered, though she shook her head.

“It’s okay. It’s just...not something I really like to talk about.” Skye sighed, almost ruefully. Despite my pending curiosity, I left the topic be.

“What’re you here in New York to do, Skye?” I asked instead, hoping to lighten her spirits a little. When she looked back over at me, she gave me a neutral expression.

“Graphics,” Skye stated, her tone firm and assured, “I want to be a graphics designer.”

“That’s really interesting. Have you designed anything yourself?”

Sadly, before I could hear her answer, Erin and Leila gasped in unison and pointed to a store. A quick glance at the shop name was enough to make me roll my eyes.

“Windsor! Yes!” Leila squealed, bolting into the store without a second thought. Erin rushed after her, gesturing for Skye and I to follow.

Several racks of dresses filled the store and even lined the walls, some popping with bright color and some glittering with infinite sparkle. I watched Leila pluck several dresses off their racks and fold them over her arm, shaking my head.

“Wow, look at this abomination.” Skye murmured, plucking a dress made of plastic (well, not literally, but basically) off the rack. It was a flamingo pink and looked like something a Barbie doll would wear. A laugh escaped her as she sifted through and pulled out the other options, the colors ranging from a vibrant cobalt to a neon yellow.

“I’ve always wanted to be Barbie disguised as a highlighter! Skye, how’d you know?” I giggled, taking a resembling green one off the same rack. My poor eyes ached at the sight of all the vivid colors.

“Pure intuition, obviously.” Skye responded, putting the dresses back on the rack. “Jeez, I could never wear any of these.”

I could agree; I would never be able to pull any of these off. Also, it didn’t help that they were so effervescent and looked severely uncomfortable. (I mean, how do you even move in that kind of material?)

“Me neither,” I said wistfully, plucking another dress off a nearby rack. It was a black sweetheart-necklined dress that cut off at (what I’d say) the knee. It had some lace detailing on the straps and a few sparkles scattered across both the bodice and the skirt. It wasn’t over-the-top, nor was it boring...

I held it up to Skye, making her jump back a little with surprise. I giggled and closed an eye, coming to a conclusion about how this dress would look incredible on her.

“Whoa, what’re--” Skye asked, her eyes widening. I smiled warmly and laid it over her arm.

“I think this is a good option for you, and I’m guessing your a 4?” I smirked, watching her gape in both confusion and amusement.

“How’d you...know?”

“Pure intuition, obviously.” I playfully mocked, making her crack a tiny smile. As we continued throughout the store, we came across a few more ridiculously bright options, thankfully not made out of a faux plastic.

About five minutes into our little exploration, I spotted a dress; it was a silvery mauve skater dress with a flowing skirt and spaghetti straps. By some sort of force, it spoke to me.

“That’s pretty,” Skye said, nodding in approval as I held it up, “ it definitely speaks ‘girl who can read minds’ to me.”

Oh jeez, she’s cool. She’s really cool.

“Perfect, it’s just what I’m looking for, then,” I joked, folding the dress over my arm and walking further into the store. Erin and Leila, practically having the time of their lives, had their arms brimming with dresses that ranged from super glittery to extremely bright. I could swear I could see a familiar highlighter yellow in Leila’s stack, but that could just be my mind playing tricks on me.

Speaking of Leila, I stifled a giggle as I watched her wobble around in her stilettos, grimacing whenever she walked too fast. Not to say I told you so, Leila, I thought, but...I told you so.

“Ladies!” Erin squealed, pointing back to the dressing room area with her free hand. “Let’s go try these on!”

“How about this masterpiece?” Leila giggled, sauntering out of the dressing room. Erin burst into laughter, Skye rolled her eyes, and I, well...

“Oh my God, Leila...” I playfully gagged, covering my eyes. Turns out that she really did pick out a highlighter dress to try on. After a few laughs, she turned around and changed into a royal blue dress with a deep V neckline. It was sparkly, sassy, and overall...very Leila.

“Wow, you look great, Skye!” I cheered, giving her two thumbs-up as she examined herself in the mirror. The dress was a perfect fit and she seemed to be comfortable in it. Her hands idly fiddled with the skirt, experimentally flicking it back and forth in thought.

“It seriously looks amazing on you!” Erin smiled, nodding with approval. Skye gave me a small, appreciative smile in the mirror.

I took a quick glance over at Leila and was met with her wide eyes and deep red cheeks.

“Charlotte, phew, you look hot!” Leila whistled, gesturing for me to spin around. I didn’t really gush over the “dream dress” as much as I had hoped. In fact, the more I looked at it, the more I disliked it.

“Maybe we can find a different color?” I said, looking back at Erin’s face; she definitely did not like it. She shot up out of her chair and came back a moment later with a similar option. It was the same style of dress but in a jade green shade instead. It was also not as shimmery, but more dull and had ruffles on the neckline.

I ducked back into the dressing room and quickly changed. With just a glance at myself now, I knew I found the one. I stepped back out and saw everyone’s face light up.

“Yup,” Erin said smugly as she crossed her legs, “that’s the one.”

Erin walked out in a tight-fitting midi white dress that popped against her flawless chocolate brown skin. It had a plunging V-neck and a small slit on the left side that climbed all the way up toward the middle of her thigh. Needless to say...she was killing it.

“Now I just need some hoops...” Erin mumbled as she examined herself. Leila looked over at me and just gaped.

“Stunning!” I said, and Erin gave me a warm and self-satisfied smile.

Finally, we were heading home in an Uber. But because of how long the shopping took, we decided to stop and get some ice cream from a local parlor; all after persuading the driver to wait for us with a hefty tip.

Erin munched on a mixture of raspberry and vanilla, Leila got creamsicle all over her face, Skye picked at her brownie swirl, and I delightfully ate two scoops of cake batter.

“So. Are you two excited about going to this party now?” Erin asked, eyeing Skye and I. At the same time, we both shook our heads.

“New dress, same feelings.” Skye sighed, looking down into her dish. I nodded in agreement only to hear a dramatic sigh from Leila.

“You two will have fun. We’ll find fun things for you guys!” Leila grinned, glancing at Erin. The two shared a look that, like all the times before, sent a chill down my spine.

“You guys can’t make us have fun.” Skye said, figuring her face was serious; but I looked over to see a teasing smirk on her face.

“Well, we can sure as hell try! Besides, what do you guys have against parties?” Erin said, her tone a bit more tame then it was before. My eyes averted from theirs, and without looking, I could tell Skye was doing the same.

Awkward silence wracked the table for what seemed like hours before Skye spoke up.

“You can thank my parents for being the pessimistic and narcissistic assholes that they are. My distaste originates from them.” Skye said, her teasing tone completely replaced with a hiss. She spoke in a mumbled tone, as if she wished she didn’t want to speak.

“I’ve just never been really...happy with the ones I’ve gone to in the past.” I added awkwardly. I thought about the one good party I went to...and of course it had to be from the diner. Emotions bubbled in my throat and were about to escape before Leila (thankfully) interjected with a disapproving groan.

Then, right after, all three of us got looks of unbridled hope and amusement from Erin.

“That’s going to change because, dearest freshmen, you’ve never experienced a party quite like a college party.”

And it can stay that way, I thought.

The rest of the ice cream was eaten alongside lighter conversation, and then, FINALLY, we were back in the dorms.

The afternoon flew as I decided to buckle down and unpack the remainder of my things. Leila went to hang out with Erin and Skye (without heels, if you were wondering) as I slaved away at stacking my t-shirts in my closet, that is until I got a knock at my door.

As soon as I opened it, I saw a familiar pair of gorgeous eyes lock onto mine.

“Hi, I know this is kinda weird,” Ajay said casually, “ but I have a question for you.”

I leaned against the door, praying I didn’t look like an uncoordinated mess. “It’s not weird at all, actually. Shoot.”

God, his eyes are just breathtaking in any and every way. Was it weird to be obsessing over an acquaintance’s eyes like this? Yes, I thought, yes it was.

“Well, since we really don’t want to go to the party, I was hoping we could try to get something out of it?”

What does he mean? If we didn’t want to go, what good would we be able to get out of it?

I tipped my head a bit to the side in curiosity and felt some of my blonde hair come loose from its bun.

“Let me escort you. To the party.”

Wait, was that an actual thing? An escort to a college party? No way. It sounded so childlike, almost like something an elementary kid would say.

“Hang on. Do you mean, like, as a date?” I asked, my tone packing more intensity than I had hoped. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No, no. I just want to get to know you better. I thought that this would be a better option than hunting you down in a huge mass of drunk people and ending up not being able to find you.” Ajay explained, a light smile tugging at his lips. “So...?”

Maybe spending the night with someone with the same ideals as me would make the night less dreadful, perhaps even fun. I barely gave the idea a thought before words left my mouth.

“Sure, Ajay, I’ll be your escort.”

#high school story class act #hssca #mc: charlotte parker #oc: leila maciel #skye crandall #erin ward #rory silva #ajay bhandari #choices stories you play #warnings: mentions of bankruptcy and emotional abuse #chapter three! 🥳

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snowycrocus · 6 years ago

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Frozen Fanfic- “A State of Mind”

AU in which Agdar and Idunn safely return from their journey at sea. Elsa remains locked away - and what does such captivity do to a person after more than two decades?

Guys, you’re gonna hate me for this. I hate myself for this. But this concept was too fascinating to not do anything. I meant for this to be a drabble, but 12k words later I ended up with this so it will be posted in 3 parts.

For some context: A few of us had been discussing the scenario above. Others said options were 1:become a villain or 2: suicide. I brought up option 3: psychological instability. I had said that “ the depression, anxiety and hopelessness over the years may have driven her kinda crazy. Thinking she’s broken, she may become…well, broken.”

This is the result.

xxxxxxxxxxx

“See you in two weeks!”

Wrapping my arms around my parents in a firm hug, I tried to exude nothing but excitement for their upcoming trip. It was hard to mask the trepidation I was actually feeling inside. Travel by sea, especially at this time of year, was often fraught with danger. I’d heard the stories, or at least read about them, anyway. But my parents assured me that they’d taken every precaution to get back home to Elsa and I safely. They would have the best ship and the very best crew. They’ll be fine, Anna, I tried to reassure myself.

What did give me a small burst of hope, though, was seeing Elsa at the top of the steps to see my parents off. At 18 years old, Elsa looked every bit the perfect young woman I imagined her to be. She’s an adult now, I reminded myself. How could adult Elsa be any less perfect than the 8 year-old girl I remembered?

Seeing her there, dropping into a flawless curtsy, filled me with optimism. Maybe, without my parents around, I could see Elsa more. Maybe they were the ones keeping her locked away. Maybe I could see her – maybe we could spend time together, to keep each other company – while our parents were gone. Maybe.

At the top of the stairs with Mama and Papa, Elsa looked nervous.

“Do you have to go?” I heard her ask, nearly pleading.

Yes! I thought. Of course they have to go! Elsa, now you and I can see each other while they’re away!

But despite my hopes during those two weeks, I didn’t see Elsa. She stayed locked away in her room as usual, no matter how much I cajoled her to come out.

She stayed in there, as she always did, not seeing a soul until my parents returned two weeks later and came to see her in her bedroom like usual.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As the years passed by, I saw Elsa less and less. Weekly dinners became monthly, then bi-monthly, and then more like biannually.

I had always longed to see my sister. Like literally- just to see her would be nice. But even though I wished to see her so badly, seeing her outside of her room after all these years later brought out more shock and concern in me than it did excitement. It became almost wrong to see her outside in the halls – as if she didn’t belong there anymore. And after 12, 14, and then 16 years hiding away, well - maybe she didn’t.

I heard her though, sometimes. Just a few doors down the hall from me, I often heard noises. Crying, high-pitched whines, sometimes moans. Crackling noises became pretty common but I didn’t know what that sound was coming from. Pleading, shouting when my parents visited. But even more often: pure, untouched silence like freshly- fallen snow.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When I was still a child and Elsa had been navigating her teenage years from behind her bedroom door, every now and then a suitor would come to court my sister. I rarely saw my sister with them- they would occasionally come to dinner (well, the suitor always came and my sister often did not), or take a walk alone through the gardens – so I can’t say much as to what their interactions were like. But I always hoped the men that came to court Elsa liked their women quiet and unseen, like my sister usually was.

Most of them seemed nice enough. Some were downright sweet. I didn’t know why, but nothing ever came of these meetings. No proposals, no future plans to continue a courtship. Neither party made a move. As the princes and kings left, their faces were always dark with disappointment. When Elsa turned 21, she saw her very last suitor. No one else came to see her after that. Whether that was by the hand of my father or a foreign king I do not know.

As for me, I dreamed of a handsome prince swooping in to steal me away from my somber home full of secrets and whispers. I would have attended every meal with any suitor. I would have told him I loved him. I would have held his hand and smiled at him and shown him the latest dance I had learned as he gazed into my eyes and pressed warm, soft lips over my own.

But I was never given that opportunity.

“We have to find the right person for you, Anna,” my father explained to me when I brought up the topic one afternoon. “I only want the best for my princess.”

If only I had known then what I know now- that my father didn’t attempt to find a match for me until he was sure whether he would be looking for a husband for his daughter, the princess – or for me as his daughter, the queen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On my 21st birthday, the castle had a big celebration. I was a woman now, and even though I wasn’t the eldest- even though I wasn’t the heir- coming of age was a big deal. We had a nice party for my parents and I and the staff I was friendly with, and I spent most of the day outside with my parents who had taken off for the special occasion. Swimming, horseback riding, tree-climbing- I did it all. Who knew when I’d get to do it again?

“It’s not every day that a princess comes of age,” Gerda told me happily when I hugged her as strongly as I could in thanks for the rich chocolate cake she had made.

But Elsa – the heir – came of age 3 years ago, I longed to say. It’s been 16 years that she’s been shut away. Why didn’t we have a party for her, then?

I just so happened to see Elsa a few weeks later, standing in the middle of the hallway halfway between her bedroom and Papa’s study.

What is she doing out?! I wondered, before I tried to shake the thought away, terrible as it was.

Elsa herself didn’t seem to know what she was doing out, either. She seemed unsure - hesitant and aimless. She stood there silently, simply staring at nothing down the hall and wringing her gloved fingers. I wondered how long she had been just standing there.

“Elsa?” I said, partly in surprise and partly to bring her out of her reverie.

I was afraid I would spook her, but it was a moment before she turned her head slowly to see me standing a ways away beside her. Her gaze darted up to my face before falling down to my shoes.

“Anna,” she said to them. Her posture was stiff, her shoulders up near her ears and I noticed her hands shook by her sides. She was as jittery as a rabbit.

“….are you okay?” I asked her. “Were you on your way to visit Papa?”

Elsa didn’t answer me, her gaze falling just past my face before she glanced to her side and remained staring at the wall there. Her gloved hands migrated from in front of her to tightly clenched under her armpits.

“Anna, you…you’re a woman now,” she struggled to say, her words light and airy yet somehow heavy as stone. I realized that for some reason she wouldn’t (or couldn’t?) look me in the eyes anymore.

So she did know my birthday passed. I wasn’t sure, anymore, if Elsa was able to measure the passage of time in that room of hers. What do the days, or years, for that matter, signify anymore if every day is the same?

“I…I hope you are…happy, Anna,” Elsa said, her words coming slowly, like she had a mouthful of peanut butter, her voice raspy with disuse. “I wish…” she trailed off, looking somewhere else, anywhere else but me, and took a few steps backwards towards her bedroom.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, at the time, but besides acting just plain odd, something about Elsa was…off.

I remembered how, when we were kids, Elsa would always be watching me. She watched me to make sure I was safe, she watched me to make sure I was happy. She watched me to keep me out of trouble, and I knew that she was always watching me then because she loved me. Having her gaze sweep past me and not return felt like a swift kick to my heart.

“I…I’m s-sorry I…” she didn’t (or, once again, couldn’t?) finish her sentence, trembling and suddenly staggering back to the sanctuary of her bedroom once more, leaving me to feel even more lost than Elsa had looked, standing so out of place out in the world of the castle.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I think it was on Elsa’s 26th birthday that I finally admitted to myself that something was wrong with my sister. Something wrong enough that it kept her in her bedroom for 18 years.

Yes - it had been 18 years now since Elsa abandoned me and the world around her for the confines of her bedroom.

I counted every birthday of my sister’s carefully, measuring the years of her life in years that she had spent behind that stupid white door.

She really never came out anymore. I caught glimpses of light blue eyes and glances of white-blonde hair through a cracked doorway when someone brought food or when our parents came to visit, which happened less and less frequently.

On Elsa’s 26th birthday, I peered from afar to watch as my parents attempted to coax Elsa to come out of her room, her door cracked open enough to let their words be exchanged.

Elsa’s gloved hand gripped the knob tightly, ready to slam the door closed again at a moment’s notice.

“We love you,” Mama said, fingers flexing as she restrained herself from reaching out towards her eldest daughter. “Please, Elsa, just for today.”

I saw a shake of a head before the door closed once more. “I…c-can’t.”

That night, having had a slice of Elsa’s birthday cake in silence with my parents, I took a slice up to Elsa’s door.

“Elsa?” I called out, giving my usual knock. It felt strange – I had given up knocking on this door years ago.

“Happy birthday. I- I brought you some cake.” I was just about to place the plate on the floor when the door opened suddenly, startling me so much the cake nearly flew from my hands when I jumped.

And there was Elsa – right in front of me. She was dressed the same as always, in one of her day dresses with her hair pulled back in a bun. But her eyes were hollow and vacant. She actually met my eyes for a second this time, but her gaze was so empty that she didn’t even seem like the same person anymore. I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed in them- they were still the same, icy blue color. Ah, that’s it, I realized as my heart fell with a thud in chest. There was no life left in them.

“Elsa, you-” opened your door, I wanted to say but didn’t. “Happy birthday,” I said instead, holding out the cake. My fingers just passing the entryway of her door, I felt an icy coolness that seemed to divide the air between her room and the outside. Strange. I tried to smile warmly at her. I blinked back the tears that sprung to my eyes thinking of birthday celebrations when we were kids. Opening presents together, since we shared all of our toys. Smooshing birthday cake into each other’s’ faces. I was always so excited when it was my birthday and for a few short months I was only two years younger than Elsa and not three.

“Thank you,” Elsa said so softly it was a whisper. Her hollow eyes dropped down to the floor again.

“Here,” I said, holding out the cake to her. “Super chocolate-y, your favorite!” At least it used to be. Do you still like chocolate, Elsa?

She glanced quickly at the cake in my hands before shaking her head. She gestured with her chin towards the floor.

I stood there, confused. “Huh?”

Elsa took a step back, cringing into herself. “I- I can’t,” she mouthed, anguished, trying to make words but no sound came out. She pointed one gloved finger down towards the floor.

It took me a minute to puzzle out what she wanted. “Oh!” I placed the plate on the floor, giving it a small shove past the doorway.

I watched, the chocolate cake I had just eaten coming back up into my throat as my sister bent down to the plate and touched it hesitantly with a gloved finger before whisking it up and closing the door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On Elsa’s 30th birthday, it was not Elsa that received my parents’ visit, but me.

There had been no celebration, nothing unique to mark the time that had passed to make my sister now in the third decade of her life. Twenty-two years behind the door, I couldn’t help counting.

My parents were now showing signs of their old age. While they already had Elsa as heir, it was time that my parents had begun to make arrangements for after their death for a smooth transition to a new ruler.

My parents were always tired, now. Ours was not a happy, energetic household. There were secrets behind walls and young girls grown to women behind doors. Father had developed a chronic cough that interrupted many conversations. Mother sometimes found it difficult to get out of bed in the morning, often taking naps throughout the day to build up her strength.

“Anna,” my father started, clearing his throat and giving me a somber look as he sat on one of the padded chairs in my bedroom. “We have something we need to tell you.” My heart sank as I sunk down onto my bed across from him and my mother.

Papa sighed heavily. “We had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he started, nervously. Papa was never nervous. “Not that- not that we don’t trust you, it’s got nothing to do with you, you see, but-”

“Agdar.” My mother cut him off from his anxious rambling, laying a gentle hand on his arm. She gazed at him with warm but pleading eyes. She looked weary- so, so weary. A single tear slid down her face. “Just tell her.”

“A-alright,” my father began again. “Anna, you…” he took a deep breath. “As of this morning, you are now officially Crown Princess of Arendelle. You are- you are now the heir.”

What!?

“What!? But – but what about Elsa?” I felt my limbs go all shaky and my heart started beating so hard it hurt. “Papa- what? How? Why!?”

“Anna, you may not know everything that is going on, but I am sure you understand that your sister cannot rule Arendelle when we are gone, as she is.”

“But what do you mean, as she is! How is she Papa? You both still won’t tell me anything that’s going on!” I was sure to direct some of my glare at my mother as well. I was so sick of the secrets, of the lies. “If I’m going to be queen I at the very least deserve to know why!”

As my parents hung their heads, looking defeated, another thought occurred to me. “What about Elsa?” I asked. “Have you told her? Does she know? And on her birthday, no less!”

“Yes, she does know,” Mama said. “She said-” her voice cracked. “She said you’ll make the finest, warmest ruler that Arendelle has ever seen.” Her voice broke on the last words and she began to cry silently.

I remained blind to her show of emotion, enraged at all the secrecy. “But you’re not telling me why! I mean sure, it would be difficult to rule the kingdom from her bedroom, but why? Why did you make me heir? Why doesn’t Elsa ever come out anymore? Why did she leave the – the world in the first place?!”

“It’s difficult to explain, Anna,” my father said. I could see that despite his emotion earlier, he was starting to close up again at my prodding.

My blood was boiling. “So difficult that after twenty-two years you still can’t even begin to tell me?!” I was shaking now.

“There are multiple reasons, Anna,” my father said tiredly. There was no use in raising his voice against me this time. He knew I was right. I knew I was right. “And they’ve changed over time. The reason was different when you both were younger. But Anna, Elsa is no longer heir because- well, because she is sick.”

“What- what do you mean, sick? And what was the reason, then, when we were younger?”

“Anna,” my mother cut in, reaching out to grab my clenched fist. She pulled my fingers away and stroked her thumb over the back of my hand as she spoke. “There are some things you don’t need to know right now.”

“That you shouldn’t know,” my father added.

“What do you mean, that I shouldn’t know?! If I’m going to be the damn ruler of this kingdom I think I ought to know!” I snatched my hand out of Mama’s, rising from the bed.

“No, Anna!” My father shouted back at me. “There are some things you are better off not knowing.”

It didn’t occur to me until after they had left my room, the implications of their words still not sinking in, that it must’ve been precisely that it was Elsa’s birthday that caused them to change the heirship. They had been waiting for Elsa to turn thirty, for some reason I could not fathom, in the dark as I was. As if her birthday had been some kind of…deadline.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s gonna get worse. Way worse.

Next up, Hans makes his appearance, things finally fall into place for Anna, and Elsa....well. See the line above.

Please, please let me know what you think. Criticism welcome as well. I don’t necessarily agree even with what I’ve written (particularly in the parts that come). But I’m so fascinated with this idea- what really would have happened if their parents had safely returned? We know that Elsa would’ve continued to be locked away...and what does that do to a person after so many years??

Next part up in one week. Let me know if you want to be tagged! @lelibotachay

#frozen #my fanfiction #fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #elsa #anna #snow sisters #frohana #disney

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