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"Hopefully he fell down that hole he's been digging."

- Charlotte Wells





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AS SOON AS CHARLOTTE had thought she had found a safe haven from the world, those thoughts disintegrated. She was currently housemates with the men that assaulted her and Jerry on the street.

The only good thing about that fact was the amount of blackmail she got away with. The two men knew she had them wrapped around her pinky finger. She asked them to do something, they had too. Green Gables was their only place to stay. Even if it had an annoying, stubborn brat living under it's roof.

Charlotte sat at the head of the dining table across from Matthew. She hated that spot. She was right in between Nate and Dunlop, the two men she despised more than Billy Andrews.

"My, I wonder what's become of Nate," Marilla wondered aloud, passing potatoes around the table.

"Hopefully he fell in that stupid hole he's digging," Charlotte scoffed, taking a bite of her carrots. Visible disappointment washed over her face as Nate walked through the door, placing his stuff down and sitting at the table next to her.

"Shall I say grace?" he asked the table.

"It's been a long time since we've said grace in this household," Marilla replied. "Grace would be very nice."

Charlotte grimaced as Nate held his hand out for her to take, Dunlop doing the same. "I'm not holding your hands."

"Charlotte," Marilla hissed from across the table.

Charlotte clenched her jaw, placing her hands so slightly in theirs, it could have easily been mistaken for a fly.

"Dear Lord, we thank you-

"Could you please say 'Gracious Heavenly Father'?" Anne interrupted. "It sounds so much more romantical."

"Gracious heavenly Father, please bless this table and the Cuthbert's for taking us into their home. We thank you for this food and the hands that prepared it. We ask your blessing upon this meal that it will nourish our bodies and refreshen our soul." Nate glanced over at Charlotte so subtly she wouldn't have noticed it if she wasn't glaring right at him. "And bless us to treat people with respect and kindness, and teach us how to treat people the way we would want to be treated, to love our neighbor's and respect everyone equally. Amen."

As everyone else said Amen, Charlotte stood up from her chair, grabbing her fork and slamming it down on the table, right between his ring finger and his pinky. The anger inside her brewed as she knew those words were about her. As if he didn't throw two teenagers to the ground and rob them. As if he didn't chase her down the street, screaming at her and threatening to kill her. Charlotte ignored Marilla's snapping at her to sit back down, storming out of the house towards the stables.

Brown and red leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked towards the stable. Avonlea was coated in dead Autumn leaves, meaning winter was rolling around again. As soon as she stepped into the stable, she headed towards Whiskey's stall, the heat of the barn warming her from the chilly outside air.

The fury inside her was still boiling as she reached it, as it became to much, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find, flinging it at the wall. The unlit glass lamp shattered, speaks of glass flying outside the barn, half of it being flung onto the leaves. Tears of frustration brewed in her eyes. She hated that they did that, that she teared up whenever she was angry. As well as her nose going a hot shade of pink. 

Whiskey lifted his head over the stall at the sudden noise, a whinny leaving his throat at the sight of the girl.

"What was that?"

Charlotte looked above her head towards the hayloft, frowning to see Jerry climbing down towards her. Confusion washed over him as he glanced at the shaking girl, then at the broken glass scattered around the floor.

"Aren't you supposed to be inside?" he asked, beginning to sweep up the shards.

"Aren't you supposed to be at your home?" Charlotte snapped back. Even she didn't know why she was so defensive.

"Not tonight," Jerry replied in his French accent. "I had work to finish."

"Do you sleep up there?" Charlotte asked him, wiping her eyes.

"Sometimes."

Charlotte glanced down at the floor, then back up at the boy. "Can I stay in here? I'll just sleep on the straw down here. I just don't want to be in the house."

"It's your barn, you don't need to ask," Jerry smiled warmly at her, moving out of the way as she climbed up the ladder to the hayloft, watching as she threw herself on the biggest pile.

"Do you have a bad feeling about those men?" he asked her, sitting on the straw from across her.

"Do you?" she asked, watching as he nodded. "Do you know why?"

He shook his head. "I just don't feel good about them living here."

Charlotte tucked her knees into her chest. She didn't know if Jerry forgot about the men who hit him, or just didn't see their faces. She saw them clear as day, whereas he was getting punched in the eye. "Same. I hate that Nate one."

"I've got the worst feelings about him."

"He subtly called me disrespectfully and unkind," she huffed.

"Are you not those things?" Jerry just smiled comfortingly at her, making an attempt to cheer her up.

She smiled back, rolling her eyes at him. "Sure, I guess so. Him and his friend just can't say so."

"Fair enough."

"Well, you're welcome to stay up here during the nights with me if you feel like it."

Charlotte cocked her head. "It's my barn, I don't need permission."

Jerry rolled his eyes, smiling at the use of his own words used against him. 


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18/12/2023


Short chapter for today but it's okay. 

𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ᵍⁱˡᵇᵉʳᵗ ᵇˡʸᵗʰᵉWhere stories live. Discover now