Blue Symphony

It is midnight and Elsa cannot sleep. Her eyes flicker shut, flicker open, and her brain whirs, races, speeding through the events of the life, the things she has seen. Her fingers are restless, itching to fulfil a task, something she can later look back on and smile at and say I created this.
She picks up her needle and thread and begins to sew, in, out, in, out, her fingers finding their own rhythm while Elsa begins to hum softly. Her thoughts are awash with colour, various shades of blue: royal, aqua, navy, peacock, electric, midnight –
Ow!
She pricks her thumb, a diamond of blood pooling on the surface of her skin. She wipes it on her nightdress and continues – in, out, in, out, thrusting the needle with gentle force, watching the patterns overlap in a blue symphony.
She is reminded of a time, long ago, involving a chair, plush-backed, the colour of calm waters, and a boy who quickly became a man. Or so he said. A boy who took from her, took something deep within, something Elsa wasn’t ready to give; and he, with his lean limbs and strong hands took exactly that, and she was left tear-stained and heartbroken. Ruined forever.
Elsa looked at the chair and found that it had started to peel like aged paint from wooden posts, peeling away the calmness, the tranquilities, to reveal brazen white, the colour of pills and hospitals and secret trauma.
Tick-tick-tick-tick.
Her fingers move in time to the ticking of the clock, her heartbeat aligning with the pendulum. She will not, cannot stop; her breath becoming shallower, faster, her thoughts spiralling on the sapphire blue heart she had drawn over her notebook, thinking that together, they could set the world ablaze.

Blue Symphony

A bitter laugh spills from her mouth, the slow descent of tears streaking her face when, quite suddenly, the thread snaps, and Elsa is left looking at that moment in time where she was laid unashamedly bare, exposed and hurting.
The clock stills and her breathing is the only sound in the listening room. A faint smile tugs at her lips because this is the moment where Elsa became a woman, where she learnt courage and strength and independence, where she has always lived and will continue to live. And now, finally, Elsa can sleep.