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" But I didn't take it "
- Anne Shirley
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CHARLOTTE LET OUT A GROAN, fiddling with the collar of her dress. The feeling of it strangling her was itching at her throat.
"Stop messing," Marilla scoffed as the three walked under cherry trees towards the Barry's. Marilla looked away from Charlotte and towards Anne. "Whatever is the matter with you child, you havent said a word since we left. You're not yourself."
The three walked up the road towards the house, Charlotte squinting her eyes in the sun to see Diana, her sister and her mother standing outside the house waiting for them.
"Good Afternoon Miss Cuthbert."
"Afternoon Mrs. Barry," Marilla nodded.
"Please, call me Eliza."
Charlotte silently snickered, earning herself an elbow in the ribs from Marilla.
"And you must be Anne."
Charlotte frowned as Anne simply nodded. In the day she had known the girl, she hadn't gone more than seven seconds without speaking, now she was silent.
"Good afternoon," Diana smiled at Anne.
"Afternoon," Anne replied politely.
Charlotte didn't say anything, only eying Diana up and down.
"Thank you for having us, Eliza," Marilla said.
"Marilla, Anne, Charlotte, please come in."
Charlotte clenched her jaw, catching the forced smile plastered on Diana's mothers pampered face. She didn't want to be there in that moment, she would rather be riding her horse through the field. Diana wasn't her friend, just another girl from Charlottes class.
—
"I don't believe you said two word during tea."
"Scared me if I'm honest," Charlotte mumbled, walking behind Diana and Anne,
"You didn't even remark on the cake," Diana continued. "Mother let me help her bake it special. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"
Anne smiled at her. "The cake was scrumptious."
"Have you always been shy or does it come from being an orphan?"
"Trust me Diana, this one is not shy," Charlotte scoffed, throwing her head back to admire the sky. She had always loved nature. It cleared her head, like a getaway for her head when she was stressed, or studying.
"I'm less shy than reticent," Anne said, picking at her fingernails.
"Goodness, there's another twenty-five cent word," Diana chuckled lightly.
"I like to read," Anne told her. "When I can."
"I like reading too, but mother prefers I do needle point." Diana glanced back at Charlotte. "You like reading too? I see you at school sitting under that tree reading by yourself."
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"Does needlepoint provide much scope for the imagination?" Anne asked Diana curiously.
"I don't think imagination is my strong suit," Diana admitted.
"Really?" Anne frowned. "I don't know what I'd do without mine. Life would be an utter agony. I make up stories all the time."
"I could never do that," Diana sighed.
Charlotte watched as Anne ran towards a bush. "I like to imagine that I am a princess in a tower, or Joan of Arc riding into battle, or a forlorn bride who lives by the sea, but never speaks to anyone because her one true love was lost when his ship went down and dissapeared beneath the waves."
"Could you tell me a story now?" Diana asked.
"I could tell you twelve." Anne smiled. "Diana, do you think that you could like me just a little."
"I already do."
"Shall we swear to be best friends forever?"
Charlotte raised an eyebrow as Diana stepped away. "It is awefully wicked to swear.
"There are two kinds of swearing," Charlotte informed her.
"I know that because I have a worldly outlook. This kind isn't wicked at all." Anne said. "It means vowing, and promising. I swear it does."
Diana sighed. "How do you do it?"
Anne smiled widley, running to grab a flower. "Hold this, take your pinky finger around mine. I'll repeat the oath first."
A glare rose upon Charlottes face as the two muttered the words. Since the first moment the girl had stepped into Green Gables, it was clear she was not welcomed. Maybe it was the fact her skin was a shade darker than most of the people in Avonlea, or her eyes were a bright blue shade, or the fact she didn't enjoy sewing and painting. She enjoyed animals, and the outdoors, riding her horse and doing yard work.
The girls at school mocked her clothes, her hair. Because she wasn't born rich like them or she didn't appreciate looks and cuffed sleeves. The boys mocked her personality, her looks. Because she wasn't 'pretty' like the girls, or wasn't lady-like because she enjoyed hard work and was one of the top students.
She was always unappreciated, overlooked. But that didn't matter to her. She knew that despite her not being as well dressed as the girls, she valued things they could never even consider.
—
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, watching as Anne finished saying her prayers.
"I do think I'm getting better at this," she smiled towards the girl on the bed. The two were complete opposites, Anne being a bubbly chatterbox, Charlotte keeping to herself and speaking when she felt she was needed.
Charlotte hummed in acknowledgement, glancing as the door to the bedroom opened. "Where is my brooch?"
"Should be there on your shawl," Anne replied.
Charlotte went back to reading her book, not knowing the context of the conversation.
"It is not," Marilla answered. "Nor is it in my jewelry box. Did you take it?"
"i was playing with it but I didn't take it."
Marilla sighed. "You were told not to touch it."
"I'm sorry. It was just so beautiful I couldn't resist."
"You were told to set the shawl on the chair."
"I did," Anne said.
"I've looked everywhere, the brooch is nowhere to be found," Marilla replied. "Give it back, right now."
"But I didn't take it, Miss Cuthbert. Honest I didn't."
"I don't belive you," Marilla snapped. "Where else would it be? Confess at once."
Charlotte sucked in a breath. Tuning out the conversation was proving to get harder and harder.
"I'm not going to live with a theif under my roof," Marilla scoffed. "You confess to stealing the brooch, or you have no future at Green Gables."
"But I didn't take it-"
"Confess at once," Marilla snapped, her temper growing. "Or I'll send you right back to the Asylum."
Charlotte clenched her jaw as Anne looked up at the woman. "If I don't confess you'll send me back?"
"Confess what you have done."
Anne's voice trembled as she answered. "If I do, I can stay here?"
"Did you or did you not take the brooch?"
"I lost it. I was playing lady Cordelia when I took the brooch outside with me." Anne stepped towards the window. "And as I was drawing water from the well I leaned over to make a wish and it fell in. I heard it make a splash as it disappeared down into the depths. I'm ever so sorry Miss Cuthbert."
Charlotte glanced over at the woman, watching as tears formed in Marilla's eyes. "Pack your things."
Anne opened her mouth to speak, her voice shaking. "But you said if I confessed I could stay here."
"I told you that brooch ment a great deal to me-"
"No but I made that up," Anne protested, her voice growing louder. "None of that was real I don't know where it is. Please, Miss Cuthbert you have to believe me."
"I don't have to do anything." Marilla glared at the redhead. "I can't trust one word that comes out of your mouth. You're not to leave this room tonight. Tomorrow, you will go at first light."
As Marilla slammed the door shut, Anne stood there before her breathing quickened, tears beginning to roll down her face as she dropped to the floor, huddled against the bedframe.
Charlotte didn't know what to do. She was never good at comforting people. The brunette did the only thing she thought she should do; she crawled off the bed, wrapping her figure around Anne's.
"I didn't take it," Anne breathed out, her sobs ringing in Charlottes ears. The redhead turned, holding Charlotte around the neck, just needing someone beside her.
"I know," Charlotte said as Anne nestled her head in the crook of the brunettes neck. "I know you didn't."
Charlotte's jaw was clenched as Anne continued to sob into her, salty tears seeping through her shirt. She would miss the girl, and as much as Charlotte didn't want to admit it, she knew she would.
---
20/11/2023
I'm already in love with my own book, is that normal? Probably not.
Do I care? No.