#elsita

@from-my-freezing-hell​

Anita’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest.

She was standing outside of Else Arendelle’s apartment doors, a stack of pictures clutched in her hand of her daddy and her. Last night, she’d ripped them all down from the wall and cried into what was left of her duvet. Not even Perdita could calm her down, though she’d tried, stroking Anita’s hair for what had felt like hours and hours.

She’d not shown Perdita what was on the back of the pictures. She didn’t see the point in doing so, knowing that she’d have to call Copper and Rajah again and that there wasn’t anything they could do to hunt a ghost. It wouldn’t stop her father’s ghost from torturing her, her friends-- the entire town. It was all her fault, you see. All the demon attacks and the vandalisms. All of it.

Her father had been quite clear. He wanted peace. And somehow, Elsa-- a victim of the vandalism-- would give it.

So the next morning, she rose early, drank her tea on the balcony and cried just a little, listening to the birds. She remembered having her tea just like this with her father. They had the same schedules, she and him. Once, they’d been best friends.

She left a note for Perdita that said she was going down to the community centre to teach a class. She was not.

And so here she was. Everything trembled. Her fingertips clutching the photos, her lips. She took a shaky breath though, mustering up her courage, telling herself that whatever Elsa would do, it was going to stop all the chaos in in the town. It would bring, like her father had written, peace.