This is just a small completely pointless story of a time Marilla had one of her headaches again. I honestly have no idea why I wrote this.
"Oh, Marilla, I truly wish I could have the headache in your place. I would endure it joyfully for your sake. I do hope it isn't too bad. I haven't had a headache ever since Ruby Gillis had her panic attack. I forget what it was all about. But it was a long and wearing morning indeed. In the end, I suppose, she was pleased with herself—she was the centre of attention for an entire half an hour. Even some of the boys were fussing over her. I would never want the boys to fuss around me. It would be so humiliating. Were boys so ridiculous back in your day? Or is it just the way they are? Mrs. Lynde says the young are wicked these days. I guess they are, in a way, but they hardly want to be. Well, maybe some of them do. I certainly don't. But one can't be completely good when everyone around them is not, right? Do I talk too much? Does it make your headache worse? I guess I should go and feed the hens, instead—now that you can't. No-no! You just lie there. I'll see what Matthew is up to on my way. After that I'll stay right here beside your bed all day if you want me to. I can tell you stories, so you won't be bored. Oh, I can already imagine—this room is located at the top of a high tower, guarded by an evil warlock. Trapped inside the room is an ageing princess, whom the wicked man has kept locked away for years. Her beauty is slowly withering away. She hasn't felt the touch of grass or heard the laughter of the spring in too long. Or does that all sound too tragic to you? Perhaps you would like something brighter? Maybe—Maybe a story of a courageous sea captain's daughter who sailed from her homeland in search for her one true love. I don't think I'll ever be someone's one true love. No one could love someone as red-headed and bad-tempered as me. But stories are some comfort. I don't suppose you or Matthew were ever bad-tempered or wicked, were you? That's another hope gone. What if I won't ever get to the end of my mistakes and flaws? Maybe I'll be such a burden for you all my life? Then Mrs. Lynde was right about me from the beginning. I should hope she wasn't. What do you think? I've been talking less of my freckles and awful red hair lately. When I learn to cook there will be no limits to what I can achieve. Oh, let me get that blanket for you! There. I am imagining that you are the poor princess in the tower, and I am your maid and your only friend. Doesn't that sound ever so tragical? To have only one friend in the entire world. I imagine the princess will be devastated when the maid will have to leave her all alone once again. Do you think I could become a published author? I have a great imagination, don't I, Marilla? Marilla? Do I tire you with my talking? I can stop if you want me to. Oh, I should go and feed the hens now! I had completely forgotten about them. I'll be right back! You'll have to contend with the silence for a while."
"Thank God for that."
The End