'time is the longest distance between two places'
Dear Gilbert,
Hello Gilbert,
Gilbert,
Aurelie tore her paper in frustration, throwing the pieces onto the wooden floor. She groaned, leaning back in her chair and setting her pen down. She had been trying for a week to write to Gilbert in order to inform him about the gold that was supposedly discovered in Avonlea. Seeing as he was away, she knew it would benefit him to know.
Aurelie's mother did not want Aurelie writing to Gilbert about the gold. She said she didn't quite trust the man who 'discovered' it, though Aurelie certainly could not pass up the opportunity. It was not that she wanted to write to Gilbert and keep in contact. She would deny that at any cost. She was simply being decent. Being decent.
It was far too late at night for Aurelie to be worrying about Gilbert Blythe. The stars were already out, shining brightly. Aurelie had no idea what time it was, but she knew for sure her mother would not be pleased if she saw her awake, especially since there was school in the morning.
School was no longer fun without Gilbert to argue with. It was true that competing with Moody was pointless and seeing as he was her friend, he wouldn't mind losing as much when he was challenged. That was the only reason she missed Gilbert. At least, that was the only one she would admit to.
Aurelie would have loved to lie down and fall asleep in that moment. She would have much rathered that over writing her letter to Gilbert Blythe, which only stressed her out more due to the fact that she had to pay attention to her grammar as if it were a school assignment.
Saturday: She started confidently with her writing, until she realized she had gone on too long about her own life and figured that Gilbert would not be interested in that.
Sunday: She could not bring herself to write anything. She stared at a blank page for hours.
Monday: She spilled her ink all over her desk. She still hadn't managed to wash it out until a week later. She thus gave up on the letter until Thursday.
Thursday: She wrote a letter which she thought was perfectly fine, until she read it too many times and began to hate it.
Friday: She asked Moody to help her write to Gilbert, though she soon after realized it was not such a great idea. She then took to Anne who definitely was way to enthusiastic for Aurelie's liking. When Aurelie first mentioned writing to Gilbert, Anne automatically assumed it was a love letter. It took Aurelie a few minutes to convince her that wasn't true.
Saturday of the next weekend: Wrote the full letter and lost it in the flower patch after it rained early in the evening.
Sunday, now, or more possibly Monday due to the hour: She couldn't manage to even think up any words. She could barely speak to Gilbert in person, but she figured writing to him should have been much easier. It was not.
Was she supposed to tell him the news and simply leave it there? Was that worth the long time it would take for the letter to reach him wherever he was or would she have to make conversation? She hoped she wouldn't. She didn't expect to make a pen pal out of him.
She didn't miss Gilbert Blythe enough to want to write to him frequently. She didn't. She didn't even miss him at all. Not. One. Bit. Aurelie groaned, leaning her head down on the table. It bothered her that something so stupid kept her up so late.
School was starting in the morning, and she had to get her sleep. Though she wasn't the least bit tired, Aurelie reluctantly got into bed, pulling over the covers. She spared a glance at the new blank page on her desk, and as she had done every night that week, decided to leave it for tomorrow.
Tomorrow was an eternity away.
***
"...Answered Lancelot, the chief of knights: 'And with what face, after my pretext made, shall I appear, O Queen, at Camelot, I before a king who honours his word.."
Aurelie hadn't gotten any sleep whatsoever the night prior. It was very difficult to hide her lack of energy that she usually had every morning, from her mother. Listening to Mr. Phillips recite a poem so unenthusiastically certainly did not help.
"as if the word--"
"I think the entire poem is shameful." Spoke Josie Pye out of turn. The class turned to face the opinionated girl. Mr. Phillips looked at her with disappointment. "They should be tarred and feathered." Stated the blonde.
"Josie?" Mr. Phillips scolded.
"Guinevere is married to the king, not Lancelot." Josie added judgmentally.
"Oh, Mr. Phillips, can't you skip to the part where Elaine's pure and true love turns most tragical?" Anne requested passionately.
"No." Refused the man. "Do not interrupt me again." He motioned between Josie and Anne. "And I would greatly appreciate it if Ms. Thompson would not sleep during my class." The man raised his voice, causing the tired girl to quickly look up in embarrassment. She rubbed her eyes, glancing at Moody, who shrugged.
Mr. Phillips sighed. "Yea,' said the Queen, 'A moral child without the craft to rule, else he had not lost me...'"
Suddenly, there was a commotion around where Cole, a student that joined last year, sat. It seemed that something had tipped his ink bottle over his notebook. It was clear that Billy Andrews was the cause. Cole swore under his breath.
"Cole?" Mr. Phillips gasped. Cole clenched his jaw, standing awkwardly by his desk. "What have you got there?" Asked the professor with an intimidating tone. Cole turned to look at the smirking Billy behind him. "Cole!" Shouted Mr. Phillips.
"My apologies, Mr. Phillips. I'll clean it up." Mumbled the boy. "Are you doodling...while I'm tirelessly dedicating my life to your education?" The man continued to stress Cole. After Josie and Anne, followed by Aurelie sleeping, Cole was not particularly lucky to be in this situation. Mr. Phillips was already aggravated.
"Blackboard!" Ordered Mr. Phillips. Cole bent down for his notebook, but was stopped by the professor ordering him once more. He ignored the notebook for the time being and stepped up to the front of the class.
Anne kindly stood from her seat to set the fallen book back on Cole's desk. Mr. Phillips wrote Cole's instructions on the board. He approached Cole. "You like to draw? Draw that." He looked to the board. "Make sure it's legible."
Cole copied Mr. Phillips sentence on the board as the class watched. However, Mr. Phillips was not interested. "Back to your readers!" He instructed loudly.
He continued the poem, leaving the class uninterested once again. "'Yea,' said the Queen, A moral child without the craft to rule, else he had not lost me...'" He turned back to Cole, who had just finished writing, though it was clear that he had done so far too elegantly for Mr. Phillips to approve of.
Upon noticing, a few students chuckled. Mr. Phillips clenched his jaw and lifted the eraser. "Less flourish. You're gonna need room for 50 of those." He stated, before erasing Cole's writing.
After that torment of a class, due to the chilly weather outside, Aurelie and Moody ate their lunch inside the classroom. Aurelie leaned her head on Moody's shoulder, forcing her eyes to remain open. "I'm holding you back from playing outside with the boys. Do you want to go?" She yawned.
"Not really. They always laugh at me when I lose...which is a lot." Moody took a bite from his cookie. Aurelie chuckled to herself.
"Any luck with your letter to Gilbert?" Wondered Moody.
"No....not yet." Aurelie sighed. "Didn't get any sleep last night due to it."
"You're sure putting in a lot of effort for Gilbert Blythe." Moody commented. Aurelie scoffed. "Well, it is a decent thing to do. Notifying him that there may be gold in Avonlea is the only way-"
"To assure he comes back sooner?" Moody interrupted with raised eyebrows.
"To act accordingly." Aurelie sighed, shaking her head slowly.
"Come on, you're not in the least bit hoping Gilbert comes back? Aren't you friends? I see you two walk in the same direction every day after school, you know." Moody questioned.
"We do so because we are forced to. Besides, I can barely even speak to him, thus why I am having trouble writing this letter. I can't ask my mother for help because she was completely against the idea of telling him." Aurelie explained.
"Then don't write to him. So what if he doesn't know? I'm sure if it's confirmed it will be in the newspaper." Moody shrugged.
"Moody, I don't believe you understand the urgency of this...forget it. I'll find a way to write him later on." Aurelie sat up. She looked off to the other end of the room, noticing Cole sitting alone underneath the blackboard.
"We should go sit with Cole." Aurelie whispered, tapping Moody.
"What? Why?" Moody furrowed his eyebrows.
"Mr. Phillips gave him a hard time earlier. He can't go without a friend. I don't know what I would have done without you, Moody." Aurelie urged.
"That's sweet." Moody grinned.
"Yeah, Yeah, boast all you want. Just come on." She reached for his arm, pulling him towards Cole. The blond boy hadn't noticed them arrive as he was too invested in his sketch of a beautiful flower that caught Aurelie's attention.
"That's a lovely drawing. I adore flowers." Aurelie commented, which startled Cole for a moment. He looked between the two, wondering if they were there to be friendly or laughing at him.
"May we sit with you?" Inquired Aurelie politely.
"Uh...sure." Cole nodded reluctantly. Aurelie smiled to him, then to Moody. The two of them sat down.
"I brought home-made cookies, baked fresh this morning." Aurelie offered, reaching inside her basket.
"You offer him the cookies and not me?" Complained Moody.
"I was saving them for later. I knew you'd eat them all." Chuckled the girl. She turned back to Cole. "My name is Aurelie (Ora-Ly), by the way. Not to be confused with Aurelie (Ora-Lee). I'm sure you know seeing as...we've been in the same class since last year, but I know we've never had a formal introduction." Aurelie smiled.
Cole nodded. "Well, in that case, I'm Cole, of course." He responded.
"You're drawing an Iris. I adore Irises." Aurelie smiled down at his notebook. Cole nodded. "Yes."
"I'm sorry for the trouble Mr. Phillips and Billy Andrews gave you earlier. They are best to be ignored. If you let them know they've bothered you, it'll only make matters worse." Aurelie suggested.
"I noticed." Agreed Cole.
Aurelie glanced at Moody, who was already eating his fifth cookie from the basket. She slowly pulled the basket away from him, causing him to frown.
***
After school, the walk home was always quite lonely for Aurelie. She found herself distracted, accidentally roaming into a forest she hadn't recognized. In front of her, she took notice of a wooden structure. It was a small fort.
Slowly, she stepped towards it. A loud scream frightened her, coercing her to do so as well. The two screamed until they noticed who was just in front of them. Aurelie stared ahead at the redheaded Anne, a notebook on her lap.
"Oh, Aurelie. You scared me half to death!" Anne shouted with a chuckle.
"I--I'm sorry." Aurelie stammered. Her and Anne had spoken a few times before, though most times Aurelie did not typically agree with Anne's loudness of speaking and her enthusiasm for almost everything. Aurelie failed to remember that she, herself, was exactly the same when it came to flowers. Still, she did not match Anne Shirley Cuthbert's energy in the slightest.
"I was just in the middle of writing a most thrilling tale, inspired by the most harrowing experience." Anne said in a low, intense voice.
"That's...thrilling. Well, it seems I have gone the wrong way--" Aurelie attempted to escape.
"I believe a terrifyingly evil curse has befallen Avonlea." Interrupted Anne, reaching out for Aurelie's arm. "It pervades every alcove and crevice, every tree and flower. All spirits are stirring."
Aurelie furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to pull away, but Anne had a particularly strong grasp.
"I'm nearly certain I saw a ghostly white lady down by the brook." Anne added.
"Anne--"
"You may ask...'What does she want?'"
"I did not ask that--"
"She wants us! Oh, couldn't you just die of fright?" Anne giggled. "I call my story The Haunted Dell: A Most Shuddersome Tale."
"Anne, I've gone into the wrong path and I must return home." Aurelie sighed. Anne's smile fell as her grip weakened on Aurelie's arm. "Of course. Sorry, I seem to have a talent for driving people away today. You are not the first." Anne admitted.
Aurelie exhaled, pursing her lips. "I..I am a fan of scary stories. I can help you come up with some...shuddersome ideas...if you are interested." Aurelie suggested. Oddly enough, she felt for Anne. She had already joined a lonely Cole during lunch. What difference would it make if she were to accompany Anne for just a little?
It felt good being different that day. Nice for a change. Good enough to go home and start straight on her letter to Gilbert.