Disclaimer: I do not own Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, nor any of it's characters.
Miss Peregrine studied the new sign in front of the building. MISS PEREGRINE'S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN, it read. It use to read PEDIATRIC INSTITUTION, but she had requested it be changed, so as not to intimidate her young charges. Goodness, the last thing the children needed was to feel different from the rest of society.
She didn't dawdle outside. There were things to do, people she had to watch over.
The building was like any other house: it had a yard used by the children, a living room, a dining room, an upstairs and everything else. The children were allowed to go where they pleased, so long as they let her know if they were going outside. There were no electronics, the children needed to focus on getting better, not worrying over what the media had to say, especially about people with their conditions.
Miss Peregrine observed the young ones outside. Fiona was playing in the garden, like always, talking to the plants. Horace was playing with the bugs, letting them climb onto his hands and shoulders-he and she would be having a talk about the dangers of bugs, the poisons and disease they carried. And Olive was up in the trees, balancing precariously on a branch without any shoes on.
Miss Peregrine was quick to go outside and call her down, repeating the rules about why she must stay on the ground, that heights like that could hurt her. Claire sulked and dragged her feet inside, as if her shoes were made of lead.
She checked on the children inside. Horace was looking out the window, eyes lulling shut. Poor thing, couldn't sleep without having the most horrific nightmares. He had a seizure just a few days ago and had been haunted by the image of ash and snow ever since-she was making slow progress in coaxing him into opening up about it.
Claire was in the kitchen, whispering to herself-her other personality-that it was okay to eat, Miss Peregrine says we're beautiful, we have no need to be embarrassed and the likes. Miss Peregrine considered it a victory when the small girl snatched an apple out of the fridge and took a bite out of it.
Millard was in the library, huddled in the corner, piles of books making him impossible to see. The boy had been here for years and had yet to want for anything other than to be invisible, he was that self conscious.
No matter, Miss Peregrine was not giving up on Millard. Or any of her children, for that matter.
Enoch and Victor were by the stairs. These two were admittedly an odd pair, truly opposites, but Miss Peregrine thought they were rather good for each other. Enoch was so concerned with life and living-so fascinated he had convinced himself his dolls and action figures were alive. He could sit and command them all day to do his bidding before suddenly, and rather cruelly, killing them. Victor, on the other hand, had been brought to the home for his depression. He'd tried to kill himself, and spent most of his days trying to hide somewhere to sleep away his sadness or finally end himself. Of course, Miss Peregrine always found him in time, thanks to the cameras and alarm systems around the home. And Enoch seemed to have a quality that sparked a bit of life into the other boy.
In the living room she found Bronwyn toying with a plastic camera. She was sprawled out near Emma, who was staring morosely at the picture she had drawn on a piece of paper-fire. The young pyromaniac had gone into a temper when she received a letter from her now former boyfriend. Without any means to set anything on fire, she had resorted to drawing out her feelings.
But Miss Peregrine knew both the girls were listening to the boy sitting in the middle of the room. Jacob Portman, their newest addition.
The boy had severe schizophrenia. He told stories about monsters-horrible, vicious beings with tentacles coming out of their mouths and eyeless servants serving them fresh, often human meat, stories about birds and time travel, stories about children with gifts and amazing talents, seeking refuge in a home hidden far away from the monsters.
His parents had all but dumped him here, no longer wanting the person their child had become.
But it was all going to be okay. This was MISS PEREGRINE'S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN after all, she would protect them all from the monsters.
The planes flew overhead and the home trembled.
I just finished reading this book. I absolutely loved reading it, and I hope the fandom grows. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading The Family Inside the Home. Feel free to review and tell me what you think.