There's a lot of things Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is uncertain about. But she does know she's not a medium. Then why is Gilbert Blythe suddenly standing in the middle of her room on a stormy night?
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I. Of Presences and Apparitions or the art of starting a conversation
September 1st
The girl with the red hair and the big blue eyes awakes a fine September morning for her first day back at school. Her name is Anne, and she doesn't feel very excited about school or anything in general.
"Good morning, Miss Cuthbert," she says with the usual monotonous tone in her voice.
"Anne, how many times do I have to tell you?", Marilla says. "You can call me Marilla"
"Of course," Anne nods. "I'm sorry"
"Now, eat your breakfast or you'll be late for school"
Well, at least she hasn't said something along the lines of "call me mom". That was one of the good things about the Cuthberts. Neither of them had mentioned the so dreaded words mom and dad.
The thing is Anne Shirley was an orphan. Her parents died about six months ago and she had been adopted by these two siblings — Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. She arrived then in this little town in the middle of nowhere, barely months ago. Obviously, being "the new girl" by the final week of May, she caught no one's eye at school.
That's why Anne Shirley has no friends.
It's not like she cares much about that tiny detail, anyway. She's planning on moving out as soon as she turns eighteen. She'll have graduated and will be looking for a job, coining money to pay for her own studies. It was a plan — her plan, and no one would ever get in her way.
Why would she want to stay in this town where nothing ever happens?
Well, nothing besides the dead-boy-thing.
If she went straight to school, she'd find the memorial they've arranged around the dead boy's locker. It's covered with photos, flowers and handwritten notes. A few people are gathered around it.
"It's like watching a grave everyday" a raven-haired girl says, eyes fixed on the locker decorated with pictures of a curly haired boy with sparkly hazel eyes.
"I know," another girl, with golden locks replies. "Sometimes I wish we knew what happened"
"I still remember that day at the lake, when they dragged him out-"
The raven-haired girl shivers. Clearly, the memory of the body being dragged out the lake hasn't left anyone's mind in weeks.
As for Anne Shirley, she's skipping first period today. She waved Marilla and Matthew goodbye and turned left instead of right in her usual way to school. She's heading to the local library, where, hopefully, she'll find an answer for the innumerable questions she's been asking herself for the past few weeks.
