kindred spirit

Word on the street is that ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT from ANNE WITH AN E/ANNE OF GREEN GABLES is in Bar Harbor. They seem to look a lot like LUCA HOLLESTELLE. They’re 22 and have ALL THEIR MEMORIES in tact. Somehow they’ve managed to get a job at BAR HARBOR HIGH SCHOOL as a WRITING & COMPOSITION TEACHER to help pass the time. Looks like they’re ready to settle in for the long time. 

tw  for  abandonment ,    childhood  neglect / abuse ,    bullying .

Working at the town’s medical center meant that she would occasionally end up taking shifts at the different schools in town doing physicals for the students. On this day, she had ended up at the high school. Nicolette finished the students she’d been checking and was happy that that now meant she’d be on her lunch break. She made her way into the teacher’s lounge to grab the lunch she’d tossed into the refrigerator earlier. “Hello,” she said with a smile when she noticed one of the teachers. “Mind if I join you?” Nic gestured to one of the empty chairs at the table. “I contemplated heading out for the break, but then I realized I’d just end up eating in my car and that sounded sad.” Laughing at herself, she made her way over. “I’m Nic, by the way.” 

             in  some  ways ,    teaching  in  bar  harbor  was  easy .    in  avonlea ,    being  the  schoolma’m  required  educating  students  of  all  ages  in  many  different  subjects .    here ,    anne’s  main  focus  is  on  writing ,    and  the  students  are  all  old  enough  to  have  interesting ,   intelligent  discussions  when  anne  can  coax  a  conversation  out  of  them .   her  lunch  hour  is  often  taken  in  her  classroom ,    offering  an  oasis  to  students  who  have  nowhere  else  to  go  in  their  free  period ,    but  even  the  most  personable  of  faculty  need  a  moment  away  from  the  students  every  now  and  then .    her  lunch  carefully  set  out  in  front  of  her ,    anne  has  just  taken  a  bite  of  her  sandwich  when  nicolette  asks  to  sit .   she  nods  furiously ,  gesturing  her  allowance .    she  tries  to  chew  as  fast  as  she  could ,   only  speaking  once  her  mouth  is  no  longer  full .   ‘  i’m  so  sorry ,   of  course  you are welcome  to  join  me !   i  am  more  than  amenable  to  company .  ’   she  offers  a  smile  before  an  introduction  of  her  own .   ‘  nic .    my  name  is  anne  —  spelt  with  an  ‘ e ’ ,   if  you  will .  are  you  a  teacher  here  as  well ?  ’

“ — sorry! sorry, i’m here. just short staffed today and i’m rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off. well, more or less like the clumsiest chicken with their head cut off. i’ve already tripped over like, ten boxes and i —” silence. silence fell on robin just as cyan eyes lifted to meet the gaze of the stranger. not now, brain. don’t shut off now. it was useless when that face resembled one that she thought was left back in hawkins. flame-colored hair and soft set eyes made it hard for the cashier to even speak, let alone think to get her register up and going. “ — i’m sorry.” it was all she had to rest on, attention leaving the beautied face so that inexpert hands could fumble with her keycard on her hip. access granted. she placed the card back into her mom jeans as she reached for the first item to scan, eyes darting up only to fall back down to focus on the task at hand. “did you uh — find everything alright?" 

             in  bar  harbor ,    anne  has  to  buy  eggs .    it  seems  like  a  ordinary  endeavor ,    a  small ,    silly  thing  that  she  has  pondered  too  deeply  on ,    but  in  truth  it’s  another  brutal  reminder  that  this  place  is  not  her  home .    having  spent  the  majority  of  her  life  collecting  eggs  from  the  chicken  coop  herself ,    it  feels  foreign  to  fetch  a  carton  of  a  dozen  from  the  electric  refrigerator’s  shelf .   but  she  does  so  anyway ,   as  she  peruses  aisle  after  aisle  collecting  her  groceries  for  the  week .    when  she’s  finally  approaching  the  register ,    robin’s  frantic  tone  catches  her  attention .    ‘  oh ,   do  be  careful !  ’   she  implores ,     concern  lacing  her  words  despite  the  well - meaning  laughter  that  threatens  to  bubble  over .   ‘  there’s  no  need  to  trip  on  my  account ,    i  assure  you  that  i’m  in  no  hurry .  ’   anne’s  smile  is  offered  easily  &  warmly ,   though  she  quickly  turns  bashful  under  the  other’s  gaze .   ‘  no  apologies  necessary ,  ’    a  quick  glance  to  her  name  tag ,   ‘  robin .  what  a  lovely  name .   it  conjures  up  such  a  splendid  image  of  birds  in  flight  and  the  most  scrumptious  shade  of  pale  blue ,   doesn’t  it ?   a  shade  not  far  off  from  that  of  your  eyes !   your  name  suits  you  well .  i’ve  always  envied  people  whose  names  fit  them  like  a  well - tailored  coat ,   ’     anne  chatters  away  as  she  moves  her  items  to  the  counter .   ‘  i  found  everything  just  perfectly ,    thank  you !   this  store  is  huge ,    i  feel  as  though  i  could  wander  around  here  all  day .  ’

    nell adored her family, despite how she was speaking right now. but she knew after they left that house… that all of them had drifted apart. they had all gone off in their own directions. nell and luke had been the two who went down more dark paths. nell mostly due to her nightmares and knowing what her twin was up to. “ it was. not that many people believed him, of course. he didn’t even believe what he was writing. ” nell admitted before clearing her throat. “ my twin… he struggled with substance abuse. ” she mused, looking at her hands. “ both of us suffered in that house and it was his way of coping with it. though we all tried… he couldn’t kick the habit at first. ” though now she hoped he was clean. that he was safe.  

             family  relations  are  complicated  things ,    that  much  anne  knows .   her  heart  breaks  for  nell  in  this  moment :    she  isn’t  very  knowledgeable  about  substances  persay ,    but  she’s  witnessed  firsthand  how  drink  can  turn  a  respectable  person  into  a  broken  one .   ‘  that  sounds  like ...   a  very  lonely  predicament .   i’m  sorry  you  had  to  endure  that ,  ’   anne  offers  quietly ,    gaze  soft  &  sympathetic .   ‘  and  i  hope  your  brother  is  well .  i’ve  been  told  the  road  to  recovery  is  a  long  and  treacherous  one ,    but  worthwhile  all  the  same .   i  wish  him  a  safe  journey .    what  of  you ,   though ?   tis  not  too  late  to  seek  a  newer  world ....   tennyson  wrote  that .  ’

Their worlds were not so very different within Concord and Avonlea but this new modern world felt terrifying when so alone. Amy March is grateful to call Anne a friend knowing of their shared times of yore long since passed. There may have been an etch or two on the notepad she took on their outings together. With her hair shinging like red roses ( reminding her so very much of her Beth ), all of Amy’s nearest earned a place in her sketchbook. The charcoal coating her fingers brushing away the shavings, “ I hope this is not too forward. “ musing as she peers at the parchment in her grasp. Unable to part from her billowing silks and corsets made from whale’s bone that fit against her frame with her own comfort that others may not view it so. “ Do you miss it? “ The youngest March wasn’t used to biting her tongue and she will not start in this new place, “ Your home? “

          ever  since  her  first  encounter  with  amy ,    anne  knew  a  great  and  beautiful  friendship  would  blossom .     a  kindred  spirit  indeed ,    anne  has  found  much  comfort  in  the  other  girl  ever  since  her  arrival  in  bar  harbor .    the  park  is  a  frequent  destination  for  the  pair ,    free  of  most  modern  technology :    if  you  squint  just  right ,    it  could  almost  feel  like  home .     anne  is  decidedly  less  proper  than  amy ,    though  it’s  impossible  to  tell  if  it’s  her  adventurous  nature  or  her  so - called  country  bumpkin  ways  that  contrast  the  other  girl  so  heavily .    the  redhead  lounges  ( rather  unladylike )  on  their  gingham  picnic  blanket ,   devouring  yet  another  new  novel  as  amy  sketches .   ‘  dearest  amy ,    i  doubt  there’s  much  you  could  ask  me  that  i  would  deem  as  too  forward .  ’    she  smiles  warmly  before  placing  a  blade  of  grass  between  pages  to  mark  her  place .   home .    until  green  gables ,    anne  never  truly  had  a  home :    and  now  that  she’s  known  it ,    her  heart  aches  for  it  every  day .   ‘  i  miss  it  deeply .    sometimes ,    especially  at  night ,    it  feels  as  though  i’ve  left  half  of  myself  in  avonlea  and  the  anne  who  lives  in  bar  harbor  is  nothing  but  a  spectre ,     an  echo  of  who  i  truly  am .  ’    a  melancholy  sigh  escapes  through  parted  lips ,    anne’s  gaze  soft  as  she  studies  amy’s  face .    ‘  i  miss  my  family ,   matthew  and  marilla ,   most  of  all .     i  imagine  you  do  too .    it  must  be  even  more  devastating  when  you  have  so  many  people  to  miss ....  ’

he was still trying to adjust to this place. adjust to the fact it seemed capable of bringing the dead back to life. a part of him was happy to be here if it allowed him to spend time with tony once again. peter missed him but he was trying. he was currently sat at a table in the cafe, fiddling with the menu. “hey, i know this might be totally weird but have you ever eaten here before?” he questioned with a cock of his head. “i don’t really know what to go for!”

        the  concept  of  eating  out  is  still  somewhat  foreign  to  anne .    it  seems  a  great  luxury ,    being  able  to  eat  something  made  by  someone  else !    she  enjoys  it  greatly ,    though  in  an  attempt  to  maintain  the  magic  her  restaurant  trips  are  infrequent .   the  redhead  is  currently  neglecting  a  book  and  a  cold  cup  of  tea ,    gaze  instead  directed  out  the  window  and  clouded  with  daydreams .    the  boy’s  inquiry  snaps  her  out  of  her  reverie ,    a  somewhat  bashful  expression  flitting  across  freckled  features  as  she’d  been  caught  with  her  head  in  the  clouds .   ‘  i’ve  only  been  here  once  or  twice ,    but  i’m  certain  i  could  help  you  pick  something !    what  kind  of  things  do  you  like  to  eat ?   i  had  the  most  incredible  savory  crepe  the  last  time  i  was  here ,    i’ve  been  positively  pining  for  another  ever  since .  ’

the party was exclusive. not a single one of them had invited an unknown to join before eleven entered the picture. following that and much to his protests, max soon followed. there was no joining, no entry unless an invitation. it was alarming how much he wanted to invite anne form a conversation alone. “yeah, my brain is being rivaled. i’m going to need a dictionary with you, i can tell.” playful. it was light hearted and good natured. mike enjoyed her company. the likes of his company included his close knit group of outcasts and part of him questioned if she had the same. judgement came without an ounce of effort where he was from and he wanted to leave that back in hawkins. he didn’t want to be painted to be a freak that had a vast imagination. acceptance. he wanted her to feel what he lacked feeling for so long without his friends. “you had to pay to get your picture taken? anne — that sounds like you’re from the stone ages!” abort. abort the mission— it was the wrong time to make the joke and had he not been white as snow, all the blood draining from his cheeks was enough to make him look like a blanket of it. “oh — i. oh shit, i’m sorry. i didn't —  i don’t really think before i speak sometimes.” dipping his chin, he searched for a recovery. a life line he could use to revive the coding conversation at hand. it didn’t take long for anne’s laughter to switch around her mood, sharp features softening at the likes of her airy voice when she poked at him. “hey! friends don’t lie.” the offer of the phrase came out before it dawned on him. a motto of sorts that he wore like a patch on his jacket. “i would never lie to you about it. the red hair — i dig it. you should dig it too!” naturally, his own chuckle bounded from his lips at her jest and he shifted in his place beside her frame to face her. “it’s not a bad thing to snoop sometimes! i mean, think about it. i’m doing my brotherly duties by making sure that no lancelot is messing with her heart. not that i could do shit about it but —” but he cared. down in the depths of his heart, mike cared about the ones he loved most in this world. one of them, to his dismay, being nancy. the lines in his forehead deepened at her question, elbows supported by his knees as he shrugged at his shoulders. “we used to be closer. when we were younger and she didn’t get too — cool for me. but i mean, she’s cool. she’s got her own things and i’ve got mine,” he explained. despite his best efforts, a frown pulled his mouth downward and he searched the expression that anne made at her confession. “do you have like a cousin or someone? someone that — you hang out with?" 

        if  such  an  offer  was  extended  to  anne ,    it  would  be  treated  with  the  greatest  respect  and  solemnity !    an  invitation  of  the  highest  honor  should  certainly  be  treated  as  such .    she  had  a  similar  circle  of  friends  in  her  youth ,   a  small  trusted  group  who  formed  a  story  club  to  share  their  most  vulnerable  creative  endeavors ,    so  she  understands  the  enormity  of  such  a  thing .    ‘  you  had  better  start  studying  up ,    then !   ’    she  chirps  easily  in  response ,   a  mischievous  smile  of  her  own  curving  her  lips .    anne  suffered  from  isolation  and  judgement  for  most  of  her  young  life ,    and  as  such  is  easily  able  to  recognize  that  in  others .    she  didn’t  have  anyone  to  teach  her  ‘ right  from  wrong ’  or  what  was  socially  acceptable  until  she  was  nearly  a  teenager ,    and  her  simple  ignorance  cost  her  a  great  deal  of  bullying ,   abuse  and  heartache .    it  doesn’t  feel  so  earth - shattering  as  an  adult ,   but  looking  back  anne  despairs  over  the  treatment  of  her  younger ,    love - starved  self .    ‘  the  stone  ages !  ’    she  echoes  incredulously ,   unable  to  keep  her  laughter  from  bubbling  up  at  the  thought .   ‘  i’ll  admit  some  of  the  technology  here  does  make  me  feel  as  though  i’m  a  cavewoman  ----  but  i’m  certainly  more  civilized  than  that !    i  was  born  in  1865 ,     if  you  must  know .   i  suppose  i’ll  get  more  used  to  these  things  with  time .  ’     anne  forgets ,   sometimes ,    that  her  personal  tragedies  can  be  rather  shocking  to  others .   she  shakes  her  head  at  mike’s  fervent  apologies ,    waving  her  hand  to  dismiss  any  notion  of  panic .   ‘  you  mustn’t  apologize !    i  don’t  remember  my  parents ,    though  i  know  their  names  and  that  they  hailed  from  scotland .    i  was  adopted ,    and  my  family  is  made  up  of  some  truly  incredible  people .  ’     how  she  misses  her  dearest  matthew  and  marilla !    what  she  would  give  to  be  able  to  visit  with  them ,    or  even  write  a  letter .    friends  don’t  lie ,    anne  can  certainly  appreciate  that  sentiment !    she’s  an  honest  girl  for  the  most  part ,    and  her  only  mistruths  come  from  a  place  of  pure  intentions .    ‘  you  dig  it ?  ’    she  repeats ,    delighted  by  the  new  phrase  and  curious  about  the  etymology .   her  grin  grows  rather  goofy  as  she  continues ,    ‘  i’ll  consider  digging  it  myself ,    but  i  shall  have  to  mull  it  over  thoroughly  and  report  back .  ’   his  justification  for  reading  nancy’s  diary  is  amusing ,    and  anne  laughs  and  shakes  her  head .   ‘  well ,   since  you  have  nothing  but  noble  intentions ,    i  suppose  the  snooping  simply  had  to  be  done !   i’m  a  woman  of  narrow  experience  on  the  matter  of  sibling  relations ,    but  i’ll  admit  i’ve  done my  share  of ....   we’ll  call  it  investigating .  ’     her  expression  loses  a  small  amount  of  mirth  as  she  learns  of  the  tension  between  he  and  his  sister ,    her  features  somewhat  mirroring  mike’s  frown .   ‘  i’m  sorry  to  hear  that .    i  hope  you’re  able  to  reconnect  soon  ----  i  imagine  it  will  be  a  sweet  reunion .  no ,   no  cousins  ----  i  have  no  kin  at  all .   but  i  have  my  matthew  and  marilla ,   who  are  the  elderly  brother  and  sister  who  adopted  me ,   and  i  have  the  dearest  kindred  soul ,    my  divinely  beautiful  bosom  friend  diana .   although  things  changed  after  she  married ,    i  suppose  that’s  to  be  expected .   but  we  were  girls  together ,    and  being  girls  together  forms  a  inexplicable ,  insurmountable  bond  that  even  the  sands  of  time  could  never  wear  away .  ’

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully at her friend, excitement building in her at the idea of getting a gift. Taking the gift, she smiled at her before opening it up to reveal the frame and the flowers. It was perfect. It reminded her of the muggle life she’d led for so many year as a young girl before finding out she was a witch and going to Hogwarts. It reminded her of the gifts she got from her parents, she clutched the frame tightly to her chest before pulling Anne in for a hug. “I love it, thank you!” She pulled back carefully putting the frame back in the bag for safe keeping while sh worked. “You made it yourself? Hermione wasn’t good with art, not really, not the muggle way at least. “That’s very impressive. You’ll have to show me how sometime.” 

      anne  can’t  hide  how  pleased  she  is  at  hermione’s  reaction  to  her  gift .   skinny  arms  loop  around  the  other  and  give  a  squeeze ,   positively  beaming  with  excitement .    ‘  oh ,    i’m  so  glad !    i  know  it’s  silly ,    but  i  had  the  most  tragical  image  in  my  head  of  what  would  happen  if  you  hated  it .    it’s  such  a  relief  to  know  you  enjoy  it .  ’    she  had  been  torn  between  the  pressed  flowers  and  embroidering  a  satchet  for  a  gift ,     and  idly  anne  decides  she  will  create  a  most  romantical ,    ornate  satchet  to  give  to  hermione  for  her  next  birthday .    ‘  i  did !   i  would  love  to  teach  you .    i  used  to  press  flowers  all  the  time  back  in  avonlea ,    though  i  was  limited  to  wildflowers  and  other  such  things .   come  springtime  we  can  make  a  day  of  it  and  hike  to  find  wild  blooms ,   if  you’d  like !   i  can  how  you  how  to  make  a  flower  crown ,    too ,    they  are  so  beautiful  and  stately ,    like  they  were  plucked  right  from  the  head  of  a  fairy !   ’

Guinevere’s heart sang a bit at the mention of her husband. She also couldn’t believe just how long ago her time had been. If the woman standing in front of her had read about her. She just simply smiled at Anne, wanting to hear more about her life than being reminded of the one she missed so dearly. “I sadly am not teasing. Though, I had no idea just how far into the future I’d come.” her smile was warm, welcoming. “I’m sure Ruby made a lovely King Arthur.” She tried to hide the way her smile fell at his name, knowing she wasn’t that good of an actor. She never had been. She led with her heart and it got her in trouble too many times to count. “Oh no, lily maids have all different colored hair, even gorgeous red like yourself.” She clutched Anne’s hands back, it was nice to have a friend in this town. “I would like that very much, Anne with an E. Please, call me Gwen.” 

           ‘  if  it  is  of  any  comfort ,    i’m  not  of  this  time ,   either   ----    though  not  so  far  as  you .    i  was  born  in  march  of  1865 ,    if  you  can  believe  it .     i  suppose  that  makes  me  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old ,    though  it  does  make  my  head  ache  to  ponder  on  that  too  deeply ,  ’   anne  muses  before  her  expression  grows  fond  and  her  cadence  becomes  more  dramatic ,    launching  into  a  retelling  of  a  related  mishap .   ‘  i  imagine  the  real  king  arthur  was   much  more  dignified  than  sweet  ruby .    as  elaine ,  i  laid  very  still  in  the  bottom  of  a  little  boat ,   flowers  clutched  betwixt  my  fingers ,    and  the  girls  sent  me  out  to  sea .   well  ----  not  sea ,   but  rather  the  lake  of  shining  waters ,    which  isn’t  nearly  so  wide  and  wild ,  but  is  still  very  romantical .    unbeknownst  to  any  of  us ,   there  was  a  hole  in  the  boat !  i  would  have  certainly  drowned  if  gilbert  blythe  hadn’t  saved  me .    poor  ruby ,    who  is  kind - hearted  but  prone  to  hysterics ,    fainted  the  moment  she  learned  the  boat  was  sinking .  ’    she  wonders  how  ruby  is  doing  now ,    and  more  importantly ,   how  diana  and  gilbert  were  doing .    were  they  aware  of  her  absence ?    did  a  part  of  their  souls  long  for  their  friend ,    or  did  another  version  of  anne  occupy  their  time  now ?    guinevere’s  compliment  snaps  anne’s  thoughts  back  to  the  present ,    her  gaze  wide - eyed  as  her  words  sink  in .  ‘  oh ,     gwen ,     you  have  no  idea  how  happy  you’ve  made  me .   might  you  say  it  again ,   just  once ,  so  i  may  etch  it  into  my  memory  forever ? ’      a  wistful  sigh  slips  from  her  lips ,   tears  of  pure  happiness  &  excitement  begin  to  burn  her  eyes .    ‘  no  one’s  ever  said  something  so  kind  about  my  hair .    i’ve  always  dreamed  of  having  beautiful  raven  locks  as  it’s  been  my  lifelong  sorrow  to  be  cursed  with  carrot - red  hair  and  freckles ,    but  hearing  you  say  such  a  thing  makes  me  feel  there  could  be  nothing  more  beautiful  in  this  world .  ’

rose dawson had been lucky enough to have initially arrived years ago without memories. luckily… because she could imagine that being taken from the nineteen tens and dropped over a hundred years in the future would have been overwhelming. it was overwhelming enough when she woke up one day and remembered everything, but at least she didn’t have to learn how to use a smartphone or the internet. she could understand how it must have been for someone like her coworker, anne, who had also come from a completely different time. she glanced up from the exam she was grading when she heard the door open, giving the other a smile back as she finished grading the exam she’d been working on and set them aside. “hello anne, that’s very kind of you, but i didn’t. mine just finished being heated up in the microwave, i was just finishing this exam before grabbing it.” and she took that moment then to do so, plucking the leftover pizza she’d made at home the night before and checking the middle to ensure it had reheated all the way through and taking her seat again. “you’re welcomed to join me if you’d like though. how are you acclimating to everything?”

     it’s  certainly  been  an  overwhelming  learning  curve ,    but  anne  was  more  than  able  to  rise  to  the  occasion .    she’d  always  imagined  herself  as  a  heroine  of  sorts ,    like  the  beautiful  raven - haired  lady  champions  of  the  novels  she  loved  so  dearly .   it’s  easy  to  view  bar  harbor  as  an  adventure  when  you  believe  in  your  heart  of  hearts  that  you  will  return  home  one  day ,    victorious !    ‘  that’s  well  and  good ,   then ,   ’    anne  smiles ,    though  curiosity  sparks  across  freckled  features  as  rose  takes  her  meal  out  of  the  little  box  on  the  counter .    ‘  i  would  love  to  join  you .    you’re  welcome  to  one  of  my  plum  puffs ,   as  well  ----  they’re  a  family  recipe ,    famous  in  avonlea !  ’    she  quickly  unfolds  her  kerchief  to  use  as  a  placemat  and  unpacks  her  lunch  pail ,    offering  one  of  the  delicious  desserts  to  the  other .   ‘  oh ,    the  students  are  just  wonderful .    i  do  adore  teaching  them  so .   ----  pardon  me ,   but ....   microwave ,    what  an  interesting  name .    it  heats  food ,    but  there’s  no  fire ?   ’    it  seems  she  couldn’t  contain  the  inquiry  any  longer ,    gray  gaze  flickering  from  the  savory  pastry  on  rose’s  plate  to  the  piece  of  technology  in  question .   

“VERY WELL. FOLLOW ME, IF YOU’D PLEASE?” severus wondered, gesturing for the other to do so, because.. well, he had to admit that he was almost surprised by the fact that she had not been that much phased by his choice in books. it was not often that happened - people always had a lot to say and a lot to judge about him and right now.. well, perhaps he was HAPPY that was not the case now. “and i could not agree more. people can lie about this and that, but.. when it comes to books, they always show what a person truly is like.” at least, that was something that he had always believed in. books had made sure that he was not alone during the hardest times of his life and right now, it was safe to say that they still did that much for him. thankfully so, he knew that much. “yes. others being cruel is something that i have been dealing with for the longest time, so.. it’s nice to see someone being DIFFERENT for a change.” so much that he had become cruel himself, but.. that was a story for another day. a story that he would not share with just about ANYONE, for sure.

      anne  trails  after  the  man ,    eager  to  investigate  his  recommendation .     the  rest  of  the  meticulously  chosen  books  left  on  the  counter ,    a  promise  to  be  continued ,    as  the  two  wander  through  the  shelves .    ‘  well  put ,    severus ,  ’     she  chirps ,    nodding  her  assent .   ‘  though  i’m  certainly  more  biased  than  most ,   since  i  teach  writing  &  composition  at  the  high  school .     i  believe  it’s  hard  to  disguise  oneself  when  it  comes  to  storytelling  and  literature .      for  words ,   like  nature ,   half  reveal  and  half  conceal  the  Soul  within   ----   tennyson ,  ’    her  voice  takes  on  a  more  dramatic  affect  with  the  recitation ,    as  anne  is  wont  to  do .    fingertips  dance  delicately  along  the  spines  of  the  books ,    quiet  amazement  at  the  sheer  volume  of  novels  available  in  the  21st  century .    her  awe  turns  to  something  more  melancholy  at  his  admission ,     freckled  brow  furrowing  &  a  solemn  expression  befalling  her  features .    ‘  i’m  very  sorry  you  had  to  endure  that .    i  empathize  deeply  with  that .....   i  had  a  very  fraught  life  myself  until  i  was  adopted ,    and  even  after .     my  family  is  very  kind ,    of  course ,    but  being  an  orphan  has  a  certain  type  of  association  that  people  are  likely  to  look  down  upon .   to  be  a  skinny ,   ugly ,   redheaded  orphan  ----  i  simply  never  stood  a  chance !  ’    anne  muses  thoughtfully .     she  seems  to  realize  she’s  rambling ,   as  her  eyes  grow  wide ,    ‘  if  my  chattering  is  bothering  you ,    please  do  tell  me  to  stop !    i  can  be  quiet  as  a  mouse  if  need  be ,    though  it’s  difficult .  ’

“don’t look now BUT there’s a cutie over there who is totally looking at you.” the youngest potter said with a smirk, raising her brows at the other, “want me to play matchmaker or body guard? YOUR call.”

nell couldn’t help but smile at the other’s understanding. she felt the need to speak to someone and well.. this could be a good thing, right? “ my brother… he wrote things like this. he wrote a story about our childhood. we lived in a home full of ghosts. full of all sorts of things.” she admitted. “he never experienced any of it. it was mostly just myself and my twin brother. but he added things for effect that would make books sell.” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. nell rubbed her forehead with a groan. “i wish they never made it to the shelves.”