worth melting for ❅ elsa/celeste {cass}

clover ❁
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worth melting for ❅ elsa/celeste {cass} Jun 30, 2014 2:51:01 GMT -5

Post by clover ❁ on Jun 30, 2014 2:51:01 GMT -5

[presto]

celeste winters
seventeen
district four

[/presto]

TIE UP YOUR SCARF REAL TIGHT

The first time I sat in a wheelchair, I wanted to stand up and walk. It didn't matter to me that my legs were too wear or that my bones were too fragile; that I didn't have the energy to lift my arms, never mind hold my body. It felt like giving in. As though by sitting down and allowing myself to be wheeled around like a puppet on show, I was saying, "Cancer, you win, I'm not fighting anymore. I give up." It was a struggle, to convince myself that the wheelchair didn't take away my independence or freedom. it gave it to me on a silver platter when my sickness was cruel and stronger than I.

I turn the spokes of the wheels with pale and spindly arms. "You shouldn't go outside, it's cold," Maisy warns without looking up, no sooner have my fingers grazed the door handle. I hate that she has had to become my carer, and I her charge. "It's fine, I love the winter," I reassure her, because the role of a big sister is to kiss grazed knees and nag about wearing your coat, not to be told what you may and may not do. "I'm not sure..." she starts, looking up at me now.

"I'm okay, Maisy, don't worry." She worries anyway, but she allows me to swing open the door, angle the wheelchair backward and escape out into the front garden. I slowly make my way up the garden path, slipping backward a couple of inches between every push. Every time I move closer I suffer a loss of progress, a little bit of my efforts slipping away. The journey to the front of our garden feels a little like my life in this way.

I observe the flowers - their beautiful blooms and slightly overgrown petals. I smile at the weeds, admiring the way they have pushed up through the soil and made a life for themselves in a garden bed that they were never invited to, proving themselves stronger than any daffodil or bluebell. I hope my little sister grows up to be like these weeds - resilient and unable to be thwarted by any amount of poison.

The sky is blue, blue like the tips of my fingers and the end of my nose. I am shaking just a little bit, and I want to throw up my hands and sigh, for the weather doesn't wish for me to spend much longer out here amongst the roses. I gaze longingly at the gate and the streets beyond the confines of our garden, imagining what it would be like if I had it within me to keep on moving down the street, through the town, right to the other side of the district. I don't like to think about my chances of seeing those places again. (Home, the hospital, home, the hospital, that's me.)

Just as I reach down to turn myself around and retreat into the musty jail of my home, a voice stops me.

REST YOUR HEART, REST YOUR LEGS

Last Edit: Jun 30, 2014 2:51:26 GMT -5 by clover ❁

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cass
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worth melting for ❅ elsa/celeste {cass} Jun 30, 2014 6:04:44 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jun 30, 2014 6:04:44 GMT -5

E L S A A R E N D E L L E

It was the first time she had dared step foot outside of the castle she called a home. The first time in the longest time, she couldn’t even remember much about this world. All she had seen was what she saw through glass, her reflection more visible then the world before her. And her reflection was something she did not want to see. She remembers the things her father whispered to her, the way he had said she was a monster, and that she had to be locked up until she could learn to behave herself and control herself. And she had been so very scared, so fearful of her inability to control herself and what she could do. She was like a china doll, a fragile little thing, sitting on a shelf, growing dustier and older as time goes by and then forgotten all at once. No longer even an ornament she glance at, just a thing, slipped from the memory and away from existence.

It was the first time she had decided to walk away from her prison, although she did not view it as such, herself. To her it was a house; it was security and the only thing she had ever known. But to all those that used to know her it had become something of the sort. They were not allowed in and she was not allowed out. To them it appeared to be like a prison, but no one would ever voice such concerns. Her parents had called it her safe haven, her home – their home, but of course they were no longer there. They were dead, killed in that awful shipwreck and so in the end it was just she and Anna, those big empty rooms and those paintings.

Today she was going to visit Celeste.

Her childhood friend, a girl she had grown up with, played with and spent time with. Anna and Elsa and Celeste had been the best of friends. Her feet seem to stumble over the ground, rather unsure of them. The instructions that clung to the page that in turn clung to the skin of her hand were all she had, they were the only things that prevented her from getting lost and wandering away from the path she stuck to. They were all that remained of her freedom, for rules and laws bound her freedom. Follow them, get there see her and go home. Run, little dove, and right back to the hole you crawled out from. Quick, as fast as you can before anyone notices you are gone. For surely someone would have noticed by now, but she is not sure, not many people see her these days as she stays locked up in her room.

The gate swings open and she walks in, anxious to be both over and done with this, but at the same time to cherish what was going to happen. It was then that she saw the wheelchair and her heart skipped a beat. Was this the same girl? Was this her? She did not know.

”Celeste?” She asked, the words a timid call. ”It’s Elsa.” Was that enough? It had been so long, were names simply all that was required?

clover ❁
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worth melting for ❅ elsa/celeste {cass} Jun 30, 2014 6:21:52 GMT -5

Post by clover ❁ on Jun 30, 2014 6:21:52 GMT -5