“I’m home!” Anna shouts. You know for my little sister she has a very loud voice. I don’t hesitate. Olaf bounces out of the kitchen at the same time I break a run for the stairs. As soon as I lock the door of my bedroom I sulk to the floor and I sob. I look outside. The wind blowing the trees so viciously. 

Where are ny parents you ask? My parents died on the way to visit a business partner. A storm sank their ship when their business partners were on the way to our house at the time. Their last name was Calona or something. I don’t know. I locked myself in my room but I had to go to school to get good grades and to support my sister and I. Olaf is a friend of father’s. He and father were college mates. Olaf took us into custody after the tragedy. The pain was and is too hard to bare. I run to the bathroom and took the blade from my razor, and I made the tiniest slit on my wrist, feeling the same pain that my heart felt at the time. I promised Anna I wouldn’t do this. I’m sorry Anna. I made more slits but bigger in length.

 Anna’s P.O.V

“Anna tell Elsa that dinner’s ready.”

“Ok.” I reply.

I upstairs, I have never in my life been in Elsa’s room. She’s my sister and yeah but I’ve never been in her room.

“Elsa? Dinner’s ready!” I shout.

“Ok I’ll be down in a minute.” Elsa replies.

I run down to the table only for my sister to arrive with a queenly posture. She arrived when I started stuffing food in my face. She giggled. I love her giggle. It’s weird but awesome, unlike mine which is basically a snort mixed in with a sigh. We ate dinner and talked about school; but I recognised something new. Something she tried to cover up with make-up.

“Elsa?” I look at her. Sincerity and worry filling my mind. She must have seen it in my eyes and heard it my voice because ….she froze. She never freezes. It’s always me who freezes but this is vice versa.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Why do you have a new bruise?” I ask.

“What bruise?” She innocently asks.

“The bruise near your eye.” I point to the location.

“What? I don’t have a bruise.” She replies.

I swipe my hand and a chunk of make-up latches onto my hand revealing a purple, swollen bruise.  

Elsa darts to her room before I can catch her. I won’t see her until tomorrow.