My Fairy Queen Anne

don't want no other shade of blue but you

The door of Green Gables closed with a bang. 

Marilla sat at the dining table polishing silverware and jumped at the disturbance, her head swiveling around to catch a glimpse of red hair. 

"My word!" Marilla gasped. "Now, what on Earth is the meaning of this, Anne?"

Just then, she noticed the person beside her daughter, and her sharp blue eyes widened. Josie was whimpering and desperately failing to hold in tears, and Anne had a hand wrapped around her firmly, trying to console her in vain. 

"Dear child!" Marilla gasped. "What's afflicting you? Please, have a seat!"

Josie cowered and whispered something in Anne's ear shakily.

Anne conveyed the message with a grimace. "It's best I not tell you for now, Marilla. I'm sorry, but it's of grave danger to Josie. I'm going to escort her to my room, get her cleaned up, and talk with her in complete confidence. Rest assured, you will hear of this later."

Anne's tone was so unwavering, so mature and unlike the fanciful child that she tended to doubt so often, that Marilla knew she couldn't in good conscience deny her of something that seemed so important right now.

"Of course. I'll bring some fortification up," Marilla responded, hurrying to the kitchen to gather the bread and cheese she'd fetched that morning as Anne and Josie made their way up the stairs.

Anne shut the door behind them, gently resting Josie's heaving frame on her mattress. Josie all but collapsed on Anne's small gable room bed, curling her knees up to her chest and letting out a soft heart wrenching cry of utter agony.

"I... I can never see him again," she whispered, peering out of the window to where you could still see a perplexed blonde standing a couple feet away from the entrance to the quaint farm, still shaken from witnessing his Josie run away from him in tears. "He'll hate me. I can't... endure it. Better to cut off all ties than... than to experience whatever hate he'll send my way."

"Josie," Anne sighed, sitting behind her close friend and undoing the tight pins pressing into her scalp and unfurling them into loose golden waves. "If he was truly that kind of man, I don't think Gilbert would--"

"This isn't exactly a regular dinner conversation they would have. We don't know what kind of man he is, Anne," Josie interrupted bitterly. "I know you like to believe the world is a wonderful place where everyone can be accepted with a little bit of imagination, but it's not. Not for people like me. You were an orphan. Frowned down upon, yes, yet accepted with work. But me?" She scoffed humorlessly with a roll of her eyes. "People like me are murdered through vicious hate crimes and people rejoice. People don't murder orphans just for being orphans, now do they?"

"Josie, if you'd just--"

"No, Anne. You are a rare soul. You know that. Everybody else? Not so much. People like me are seen as ungodly. The church will ban me from even stepping foot on their land tomorrow. I'm already expecting it. I'll be sent to live with some obscure aunt in England or something like that, and no one will ever see me again. Not my parents, not Diana, not even you." 

Josie couldn't help but crack at that, a small sob escaping her lips. Anne immediately moved to her, and Josie leaned her head on her dearest friend, grasping her hand tightly.

"And Alexander? What do you suppose will become of him? I...that man loves you, Josie. I've seen it. I can't fathom that he would ever forsake you."

Josie scoffed out a disbelieving laugh and sat up promptly, ripping apart their hands. "Alexander will live in utter shame that he considered loving an immoral girl like me, and you and your darling little beau will forget me eventually because the world will never fault you for the love you share. They'll never see that even though I have loved girls, it's the same kind of love you have with Gilbert or I...I had with Alex. They're blind to anything but their small-minded views, and you're a fool if you think otherwise."