A New Beginning || Gilbert Blythe x Oc ||

Chapter 10

"Lydia Miller-Barry has a very bad temper," Mr. Phillips announced, his chalk scratching those condemning words onto the board for all to see. Each stroke of chalk felt like a mark against her character, a public declaration of her supposed failings, leaving her to stand in silent fury as the classroom's laughter and whispers swirled around her like a tempest.

"Now, stand here and stay put," Mr. Phillips commanded, singling out Lydia with a pointed extraction from her seat. "And the rest of you, silence!" His voice boomed across the classroom, demanding immediate quiet. Amidst the ensuing hush, Lydia could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes, a deep sense of humiliation washing over her.

"Let this be a clear warning," he continued, his stern gaze fixed on Lydia as if she were the sole perpetrator of chaos in what he considered a bastion of civility. "We do not, under any circumstances, condone such unchecked displays of temper here, in what is meant to be a civilized society."

It was at this moment that Gilbert, unable to remain silent, stood up, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "It was my fault," he declared boldly, capturing the attention of every pupil in the room.

"Sir, I...I provoked her," he admitted, with a hint of regret coloring his tone.

"Silence, Blythe!" Mr. Phillips rebuffed sharply. "That hardly justifies the reaction." His dismissal prompted a wave of snickers and quiet laughter among some of the students, eager for a break from the tension.

"Enough!" the teacher barked. "Return to your studies, all of you." He commanded, turning the class's focus back to their lesson.

Lydia, still standing at the front, felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. Being the center of attention, with every pair of eyes fixed on her, was suffocating. She hesitantly took a step forward, eager to escape the scrutiny.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Phillips caught this subtle attempt at retreat. "And where, pray tell, do you think you're going?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension, further cementing the day's ordeal in Lydia's memory as an excruciatingly public rebuke.

Lydia's resolve broke into a run, her steps gaining urgency with each stride away from the classroom that had become her arena of humiliation. As Mr. Phillips called out to her with increasing incredulity, she did not falter; she did not turn back. The room fell into a stunned silence, punctuated only by the sharp intake of breath from her classmates. Diana, her eyes wide with disbelief, watched as Lydia, a figure of defiance, hastened her escape.

Upon the second call, Lydia's pace turned desperate, her feet carrying her out of the schoolhouse and into the freedom of the outdoors. She ran as if the very winds of fate were at her heels, past familiar lanes and through the whispers of trees, until her muscles screamed in protest. It was only when she reached a secluded spot, a forgotten edge of the island where the land whispered secrets to the sea, that her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the tender earth.

There, under the vast expanse of the sky, Lydia surrendered to her grief. The tears came first as a trickle, then as a deluge, each one a testament to the agony of her existence. She wailed, a raw, guttural sound that echoed the torment of being sold by her father as though she were mere livestock. The anguish of separation from her mother and siblings, the sting of abandonment, and the weight of her solitude converged into a singular, overwhelming pain.

For what felt like an eternity, Lydia remained in that state of utter despair, the ground beneath her absorbing the story of her tears. Yet, in reality, only minutes had passed when the storm within her subsided to a somber quietude. Tears continued their path down her cheeks, silent witnesses to the fragility of her momentary calm. Lost in a sea of sorrow, Lydia could do nothing but gaze at her hands, splayed against the softness of the earth, a stark contrast to the harshness of her life's journey. In this moment of vulnerability, the ground beneath her seemed to offer a silent promise of stability, an anchor in the tumult of her world.