when tragedy strikes ☾ shirbert

chapter 02: to the wind

a/n: hey, please don't be a silent reader! thank you, i hope you enjoy this chapter. ♡

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Chilling air, sweeping over the tall hills and rippling both the shallowest and deepest of waters. Most creatures of the land were in slumber, whether it be nests, burrows, or caverns. Nights in Avonlea were melodically peaceful like this, occasional howls in the dense forests left for mother nature to understand.

Much like the first big raindrop to prepare for a flood, or the first domino to send others into their collapse, the evening lull was interrupted at Green Gables.

Marilla stirred, having done so by a strange smell wafting into her nostrils from the crack under her door. Its aroma was indistinguishable but surely unpleasant. "What in God's name?" she mumbled, half asleep and her usual cranky.

A crease drew between her brows when leaning to the clock on her bedside table, 4:03 am. Picking up her reading glasses that lay beside it, Marilla's eyes shifted across the objects in her bedroom. Then just outside the nearby window, clouds of smoke were rising like an invasive plant.

Marilla got to her feet frantically, hands trembling as she grasped her doorknob, anticipating what she hoped wasn't true. 'Please, let us be safe,' she prayed. The door creaked loudly as she tore it open, and igniting in her pupils was indeed fire.

There was a second in that moment of panic, where everything stilled in prominent fear, goosebumps protruding under static hairs.

Green Gables was burning down.

—

Anne awoke to distraught shouts of her name, at first she thought it was apart of Princess Cordelia's dream, but oh was she wrong. When she was torn from her fantasy, she nearly slammed her skull into the headboard from adrenaline. Heart in her throat, Anne knew what the stench bared far too well.

Wintertime brought the most drastic home fires out of all four seasons. This was due to the use of heating equipment and how often families spent nestled in. Anne could only assume this was the reason for the said disaster.

Feet slamming onto the wooden floor, she yelped at the ambers sparking just below her. Sure, Anne read a lot about raging wildfires and tragic tales, but she never wanted to be in one. Matthew appeared in a panic at her door, stopping by the barricade of flames separating Anne's room from the hall.

Matthew knew when he gathered Anne at the station long ago, the attachment to this little girl would take hold on him 'til death. And so as he was about to plunge through, Anne let out a cutting scream, "STOP MATTHEW, STOP!"

Instantly he did so, shocked from her heavy voice so much, he nearly fell backward. Anne kept shouting into the tumultuous crashes, toward what was now his shadow hidden by heatwaves.

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE," she heaved up a cough, "I CAN- MY WINDOW!"

Hopefully, the message was clear. Anne didn't want to talk any longer, getting smoke in your system was harsh and did you far worse in the long run. Matthew stood picketing, he supposed Anne was right no matter how much he despised leaving her.

He retreated down the staircase, breaking his heart but trusting her words.

Alone now, Anne realized that the side of her chamber farthest from the door was only coated with murk. She scrammed out of her sheets, and despite her knowledge, pressed herself into the floorboards.