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SCENE: Anne is in her bedroom.
Anne: I'm deeply in love with Avonlea.
Anne: I know I've only been here ... what? A week? And that I've been infatuated with a lot of places ... so a vow of undying devotion shouldn't mean that much, but this time it's different. There's a path here with trees lined on either side and icicles glitter in the sunlight and it takes my breath away every single time I walk down it. And there's a frozen lake about a mile away from the house that cannot possibly be an ordinary lake. I'm almost positive it's been enchanted. No one will ever be able to convince me that magic doesn't exist when I can simply look out my window and soak in everything that's perfect in the world. I want to stay here forever.
I've been reading a lot of poetry ... I'm basically always reading poetry. And I found a poem that I have to read out loud because it's absolutely -- [She breaks off, listening to a thumping noise.]
Do you hear that? Hold on, I'll be right back. [She exits the room and re-enters a moment later, looking unhappy.]
This is the most tragic thing that has ever happened to me. I heard Marilla and Matthew talking upstairs, and I heard my name, so I wasn't sure if they were trying to get my attention, so I went up to go check, and ...
But they were arguing, um ... about me. They don't want me anymore. They don't want me because I'm not a boy. I heard Marilla say that she had no idea how to raise a girl, especially a teenager, because apparently they're set in their ways or something. And I thought maybe she was just nervous 'cause she's never had a kid in her house before, but then I heard Matthew saying that they probably got my files mixed up with someone else's because they had asked for a little boy in the first place. And then Marilla said that they were going to send me back so they could get the girl they always wanted.
I should've known. Nobody wants me. This was all too beautiful to last. I've lived in so many different places, it's really a good thing I have an overactive imagination, or I might not have survived all the yelling at the Thompsons' house, or the three sets of obnoxious twins at the Hammonds'. I feel like people who don't actually like kids shouldn't be allowed to take them in and turn them into full-time maids and babysitters.
Miss Thomas always told me I needed to stop dramatically painting myself as the victim and be grateful. She was right, I can't complain. I've had a roof over my head all seventeen years of my life, and I've never gone hungry or had to go through anything as dismal as orphans do in old books. But sometimes I think it would be so romantic to be locked in the cellar of an orphanage run by an insane woman with a God complex. Or to live in a shack in the middle of the woods with no one but animals to befriend. Being the victim of some sort of tragic injustice would be so much easier to bear than being shoved in a corner and never thought about.
My parents weren't the kind of people that would always tell me to stop daydreaming, or say that children are to be seen and not heard like it's still the twentieth century. They were amazing and artistic and intelligent and creative and brilliant and absolutely perfect. Her name was Bertha and his name was Walter. Yeah, those are lovely names. They were both teachers and met in college -- they both had high marks and pretended to be rivals, but everyone else knew they were just madly in love. I guess they figured it out eventually, because they had me.
I like to imagine the house we would have lived in if they hadn't lost me. I can never picture exactly what the house looks like, but there's always music playing too loudly, and my mom and I dance around the kitchen, and when my dad comes home, the whole house smells like vanilla and cinnamon. And at night, we sit in the living room corner and we read books to each other, and whenever I find an absolutely gorgeous quote that I must share, I'll read it to them and they understand why it stole my soul. I'm never alone in that corner. I didn't think that Matthew and Marilla were going to be like that, not exactly. I just thought it would be better here. I want to stay cheerful, I really do, but it's difficult.
OK -- I think I'm less -- I think I'm OK. I went for a walk and the sun was smiling at me and I think it was trying to say, 'Anne Shirley, you need to pull yourself up out of the depths of despair, and be happy for the moment that you're in right now, and later when they have to drag you from this perfect house, kicking and screaming, then you can let yourself sink.' So I'm going to be happy that I'm here until I'm not anymore.