Becoming Anne Again

Chapter Twenty-Five

A/N So I have a bit of an interesting predicament. For some reason, the tags on this story were all erased by some glitch and replaced with tags from one of my other stories. As a result, this was ranked number four in the Mental Asylum tags. As I'm sure you know, there really isn't a mental asylum in this story (except maybe in the dream sequence). But, I kind of don't want to take it down because it's been ranked. So that's just a brief explanation of the ordeal. 

Thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter that I almost forgot to post!

"Mr. Cuthbert, I called you here because Anne got into a fight."

"For the last time, no she didn't!" Diana spat out, and if she wasn't so fearful, she would have leapt across the desk to strangle him herself. "I hit Josie because Josie called her a slut and lied about Anne feeling her up!"

"She said what?" Matthew said, his eyes widening. "Why isn't she in here? Shouldn't be suspended?"

"She's in the nurse's office right now. Anne punched her," Mr. Phillips between gritted teeth.

"I was the one who punched her! You can ask anyone!" Diana was beyond exasperation, as was every kid in the room. It had gone from frustrating to maddening, and now Diana felt like she wanted to punch Mr. Phillips too.

"I know you want to cover for your friend," He replied, but the way his lips were pressed together showed how little he truly cared. "But I know a story when I hear one. And Anne has a history of violence."

"If she said she didn't do it, then she didn't," Matthew said, raising his voice more than he almost ever did.

They say woman change when they become mothers—they become Mama Bears. Perhaps the same is true for fathers and is simply overlooked. Because it occurred to Matthew that he didn't raise his voice, he didn't get involved. But no one had ever truly gone after Samantha, so he had never needed a reason to—but now Anne was, and that was just as bad. "I'm taking Anne home," he said, standing up and resting a hand on Anne.

"You can't!" Mr. Phillips sputtered. In truth, he had planned on sending Anne home, but the way he had envisioned it going was far different. He had never had any reasons to have any dealings with Matthew Cuthbert, but he had expected the man to understand the gravity of the situation—and furthermore not to believe Anne when she said she didn't do it. Of course she would say that, she was trouble.

"I'm not leaving her here," Matthew said adamantly, and Anne smiled, leaning against his arm. Of course, seeing her smile only further maddened Mr. Phillips.

"You're going to raise a monster."

"She's not a monster," Matthew, said, before gently tapping Anne's shoulder so she would get up. And she did, standing behind him and scowling at the horrible man in front of her. She would have said a good deal of other things—namely that his mother had already raised a monster—but people were protecting her, and she decided it was best to bite her tongue. "And I don't feel comfortable leaving these children with you."

"Excuse me? Are you accusing me of not being able to do my job?"

"It's okay, Mr. Cuthbert," Gilbert said, sounding a bit anxious. "We'll be fine, I can take care of Diana."
"I can take care of myself," Diana shot back, her head tilted slightly upward. That made Anne grin—her friends. Friends? She blushed slightly, glancing over at Gilbert. He met her eyes, smiling hopefully for her. It was funny—her anger had burned red hot for him. But after the events that had transpired, maybe he was just a replacement--maybe she had used him so she could forget the real object of rage, forget every horrible thing that happened to her. It felt like a very deep, intellectual thought, and so, she couldn't help but feel at least part of it had to be right.

Matthew was torn—on one hand, he wanted to take Anne as far away as soon as possible, but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave these children at the hand of someone who was so clearly incompetent. "I can't leave you. How about you call your parents and ask if I can take you home?" He said, pulling out his phone and handing it first to Diana. Diana smiled at him, dialing her parents' phone number, much to Mr. Phillip's chagrin.

"You can't leave! There was a fight!"

"Hey Mom. This thing came up at school—yeah, I'm okay, it's just someone was bullying Anne, and I stood up for her, and now Mr. Phillips is—"

"I'm doing my job, young lady!"

"Yeah, well, Mr. Cuthbert doesn't want to leave with him. Can he bring me home?"

The phone was handed to Mr. Phillips, and a back and forth occurred with Mr. Phillips trying to convince Mrs. Barry that he was right. But Matthew won out, as the Cuthberts and the Barry's were dear friends. A similar exchange took place between Mrs. Blythe and him, and the result was Matthew taking all three kids out of the building.

Of course, as they walked down the hallway, they immediately became the center of attention. Anne just narrowed her eyes, keeping her eyes on the doorway. And then they were outside, in the parking lot that was now devoid of children. Diana and Gilbert climbed into the back of Matthew's car, while Anne climbed into the front. "Thanks," Anne whispered, not to any one of them in particular. She felt torn between being deliriously happy and wanting to vomit. She had family, but she was still tarnished.

"So what exactly happened?" Matthew asked.

And thus was how the story was relayed to Matthew. The short car ride didn't even seem like enough time to cover all of the injustices that had occurred in the short span of time since Anne was originally dropped off at school, but Gilbert and Diana were both eager to share the story.

"And then Mr. Phillips started dragging Anne to the school..."

"He did what!" Matthew said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

"I'm fine," Anne said.

Gilbert was dropped off first, then Diana, then finally, Matthew and Anne arrived at home. The house was empty, and Anne dropped her bag on the couch before sitting down there.

"Anne—I'm sorry," Matthew said, sitting down across from her. He looked down at the floor, suddenly completely unsure of what to do or what to say.

"It's okay," Anne said, shrugging her shoulder. It wasn't okay though—the more she thought about it, the more she couldn't help but think that there was no way she could ever return. And the words all came back to her. Anne Shirley is a slut. She had been told that before. She put her hand on her stomach, lying down on the coach and curling into herself.

"Do you want ice cream?" Matthew asked.

Anne smiled. "Yeah, that sounds good."

A/N Thank you so much for sticking with me! I'd love to hear from you, so don't be afraid to leave a comment.