Anne of Green Gables, the Abridged Version
as told by my thirteen-year-old sister, Rachel den Boer

Matthew Cuthbert stared in horror at the girl before him, “You? You’re to be our adopted child?” Yes!” Ann said a little too cheerily. But then again, everything Ann said was a little too cheery. (Notice there is no “e” on the end of “Ann”. This is for purely unromantic reasons.) Matthew shuddered, wondering what in tarnation to do. He couldn’t take the child home to Marilla, could he? She’d throw a fit! Ann’s lower lip trembled, “You don’t want me, do you? Oh, I knew this would happen! It seems to me that whenever someone is perfectly happy, riding on top of the world, flying with the moon, drinking in the sunlight, they wake up. Oh, I know it’s a perfectly pessimistic view, but it seems to always be true, and that perfect happiness is only an illusion, just a dream, and then something happens to shatter it, like a crystal vase breaking before your very eyes. That happened to me once, did you know? During my traumatic youth- I have no idea what traumatic means, do you? But it sounds so perfectly romantic, don’t you agree? I just must use it, even though my life is not at all romantic. People always poke fun at me for using such big words, but I simply must, because there is no other word to use, and I think it’s downright mean to laugh at a child for merely attempting to talk. But back to what I had been saying, during my traumatic youth I was dusting in one of the houses that took me in and I accidentally- accidentally, mind you- knocked over one of the most prized possessions, the crystal vase that was positioned on the coffee table. I felt like time froze in that horrible moment when the vase was in the air. The lady there could simply not stop yelling, she said that’s what she got for taking in a redheaded orphan. Red hair shall be my end, I feel like I could be in the depths of despair over simply being born with red hair. But still, I did feel glad that the vase did have one moment of perfect freedom, before it shattered into a million pieces. It looked so calm and serene there, flying through the air with not a care for the world. Yes, it’s last moment was it’s best moment, and I feel perfectly romantic that I could have a hand in bringing it about. Though no one could feel perfectly romantic when one has red hair of course. Red hair and freckles, which I think is perfectly awful and I feel most doubly cursed.” (This is only the abridged version of Ann’s speech, I took out about 23 pages worth of other stuff.) It was at this moment that Ann paused for breath, and Matthew, although not at all outspoken, decided that he’d better say something before any more cobwebs grew on his chin. “Well, now, I reckon that is a story, but I guess we had better get going, afore the sun goes down.” “Oh! You mean I am staying with you? How perfectly lovely! I do feel almost truly happy now, Prince Edward Island is such a lovely place to live, and I’ve always wanted a real home!” But before Ann could say anymore, or Matthew could come to adore her, or Marilla could let her stay at Green Gables, or she could have a real home, or meet Diana, or eat ice cream, or go to school, or fall in love with Gilbert Blythe, a huge crystal vase came flying out of the sky and conked her on the head. Ann keeled over, a look of horror (an extremely unromantic one at that) etched in her face. Matthew stood uncomfortably for a minute, then feeling awkwardly that nothing could be done, decided to go back to Marilla and tell her he hadn’ t found anyone at the station.

Moral: No one can be almost truly happy when they have red hair and freckles. They always meet their end early.