Young love (Gilbert Blythe)

༄𝑨 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔༄ (Edited)

CHAPTER ONE:

<A new home for us>

Its the first day of autumn. Portland is dressed in orange and yellow. Considering that autumn is already here, my house its ready to welcoming me and I have to say goodbye to my aunt and cousin, and go back to my hometown, Avonlea.

I stayed with my aunt for tree years, during which time my mother and father were in Avonlea building a new quiet home. My old house burned in the fire and took my sister's life with it. The images of the fire that engulfed her were still giving me nightmares. I was only 11 years old, just a kid, when I watched my sister fight for her life with fire, it was horrible. I tried to enter the house to save her but my parents did not let me, telling me that firefighters will save her, what a lie.

All I have left of my sister is a drawing made by the two of us to always remember the day we went horseback riding. In the drawing there are the two of us, on a white horse, smiling happily. Next to us, a boy is sitting on the ground. Gilbert Blythe. He was Emma's best friend, always around. I didn't really like him. I don't know if it was because my sister paid more attention to him, when there were three of us, and I was left out, or just because he was better than me at many things, all I know is that we fought constantly. 

In front of the horse, there is a man holding him in place. He is Gilbert's father, John Blythe. Compared to his son, I always adored him. John always took me fishing or morning horse rides. He taught me to build birdhouses, to prepare a horse to be able to ride it. In short, he is like a second father to me.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my cousin's voice calling from downstairs.

"Hey Evelyn, come down! Your parents are here!"

I quickly leave my drawing on the bed and get up, running towards the stairs. I missed my parents so much. Even if they visited me every once in a while if they could, it's hard for me not to stay in the same house as them and not want them around.

I throw my arms around my mother when I get downstairs. 

"I missed you!" I hear her whispering to me.

"I missed you guys too!" 

"Were you a good child?" Dad asks, joining the hug.

Of course not.

Aunt Penelope, who was standing in the hallway door, began to laugh.

"Of course she was! What kind of question is that?" 

Dad starts laughing too. "I was making sure."

I let my parents go and start to up the stairs. "I'm going to pack my things!"

"Good, we'll leave tomorrow at dawn." My mother informs me and I refrain from protesting. I am not a person who likes to wake up in the morning.

When I got to the room, I started packing my things. Books, journals in which I wrote, clothes, drawings made by me, jewelry and the list goes on. In a few hours, everything was packed, and I was ready to get my well-deserved sleep.

_-_-_-_

I wake up because of some sun rays dancing on my face. Why is it already time to leave? I feel like I only slept an hour, not eight.

I get up lazily from bed and put on the blue dress I had prepared last night and go downstairs, where apparently everyone was awake.

"Good morning, little lady!" My father greeted me with a lot of energy. Why is he so full of life every morning?