Nightmare Assassins

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬

Alanna Bjorgman

I knocked on Crystal's door excitedly. "Hey, Mom told us to meet her in her bedroom."

"Okay, I'm coming," I heard my cousin sigh from behind the door. I knew she was still worried about her parents' disappearance the moment she set foot into Arendelle, but there was something else burdening her. I just couldn't figure out what was happening.

I secretly hoped Mom's talk with us would reveal the origins of the white streak in my hair. Crystal had always avoided the topic, and I could tell she found it uncomfortable to discuss. I wondered why—it wasn't like the streak was affecting my health or causing any significant harm.

Sometimes Mom tells me she wishes Aunt Elsa would be a little more like Crystal because she was always in her room whenever Mom wanted to play. Even though Crystal's around me more frequently than Aunt Elsa was around Mom, I don't see a gigantic difference in their behavior—save for when she's extremely happy, extremely worried, or around children, Crystal almost never opens up. Sometimes she plays pranks and starts snowball fights with her snow gun (I have no idea how it still works when it's not wintertime), but that's about as much as you'll get in talking to her. So what's the difference between hiding behind a real, solid door and staying silent when you're out in the open?

I knocked again on Crystal's door upon escaping my thoughts. "Hello? Crystal? My mom's waiting!"

Crystal flung open the door abruptly, wringing her hands. "Sorry about the hold-up. Let's move." She smiled at me—but it looked fake and forced.

What in the kingdom was wrong? I needed to find out. Whatever was affecting her must have taken a toll on her energy and spirit, and I knew it was up to me to solve the problem.

As we walked to Mom's bedroom, I asked Crystal one more time. "You can't hide forever, Crystal, and we've established that you can talk to me anytime—we're family; you can trust me. I know something is up when you're acting like this, and you're not doing any good to yourself by keeping it in. What's wrong?"

Crystal shook her head. "I'm fine, seriously. It's better for me to be here so we can work together to find my parents. I'm just a little worried; that's all."

The funny feeling in my gut showed no signs of settling. There was definitely something else bothering her, but she wouldn't tell me. I knew I'd get Crystal to talk—somehow.

We finally arrived at Mom's white bedroom door. It was decorated with ornate purple and gold flowers, and I smiled as I noticed a snowman or two hidden in the pattern. I had always loved the personalization of Mom's bedroom door—she was never afraid to show who she was to the world.

She never hid.

I knocked in a rhythmic style on the door. Mom said she had knocked on Aunt Elsa's door like that when she was young—it was a nice tradition to follow.

Soon enough, Mom opened the door. She was dressed in a black coat with a brown sash tied around her waist. She also wore a purple cape and had let her hair down. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement; I sometimes wished I had inherited those blue eyes so I could shine like her, but I was stuck with Dad's dull, hazel eye color.

"Come in, girls! Take a seat anywhere you like." Mom ushered us inside the bedroom. Tons and tons and tons of snowman dolls and reindeer figurines lined the cupboard on the right, and I smiled. Those toys never ceased to remind me that we could be children at any age, anytime.

Crystal and I took a seat on the edge of the bed, and Mom sat across from us on a plush velvet armchair. She looked quite serious—probably since she was going to announce something important that was most probably related to us. Mom took a deep breath and began talking.