Elsa?

"Elsa?" My mother asked, gently knocking on my bedroom door as though she would break through it. Who knows, she probably would. "You've been in there an awfully long time love, what are you doing?" 

Ah, the ever asked question. She know's I''l never tell her exactly what I'm up to. That's why the question pisses me off. "Homework mom! What do you want?" Setting the matches aside, I throw the box I'd been examining for the past two weeks under my bed. 

"I want you to come out of your room, Elsa. You make me nervous." She whispered the last part, but I still heard it. I always hear things like that. The things I'm not suppose to hear. "Please? Your father will be home soon. He'd love to see you."