Freakshow 〰 Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children

Ch. 6 - Control

ᑕᕼ. 6 - ᑕOᑎTᖇOᒪ

For weeks, I've been meeting with this lady, and lately, I've tried to do what Grandpa said.

Sure, the bastard talked in riddles, and he threw me in more loops than one, but the concept was fairly simple- I could do something with my voice. I just have to figure out what it is.

"Believe your words." What does that even mean?

Is this his stupid attempt at last minute parenting by telling me not to lie? Was that his way of telling my to stop calling the bitch next door "a fag hag curler head with a wrinkled ass more droopy than her dogs ears"? I thought he liked when I called people shit like that, he laughed at it. But maybe this isn't his way of telling me not to lie.

Maybe it's the opposite.

To test my idea, I waited until my next appointment with the cunt face- if I'm going to test this, I might as well test it on someone I hate. Next time I go visit my therapist, I practically race to the car in glee, my dress flowing in the wind. Lately I've worn different clothing- cute floral dresses with belts and loafers are not uncommon. They reminded me of my grandpa, because he was as old as dirt. He also liked it when I wore this shit, like I was still four. I would constantly tell him that I wanted to dress differently than I do- for some reason, clear skirts and doll like platform shoes always got me excited- but the people I hung around wouldn't understand, and I had a reputation to uphold.

He would always tell me that they could kiss my ass.

I quickly took a drink of my coffee- I put six tablespoons of sugar and half a cup of sweet cream in it so I couldn't fall asleep if I tried, but sipping it sucked- like I was drinking sugar water while snorting the sweet substance like cocaine. But as long as I was awake, and couldn't dream, I was fine with it. Dark circles could be covered by makeup, and so far, I haven't had any sleep side effects. Anything was better than my dreams.

Lately I've had dreams of this lanky teenager with bright blue eyes and disappearing body parts in my dreams, talking to me like he's known me all my life, and it's kind of creepy. It's like," Hey how was your day? Oh whoops there goes my arm, it disappeared!" I don't fucking think so.

When we pulled up to the hospital, unlike Jacob's usual routine of dragging me by my arm, I was pulling him, walking with determination. I even winked seductively at some kind with the flu, and he had to bring out his inhaler in his panic and bring it to his lips, taking quite a few swigs. Jacob looks at me in confusion.

"Why are you so excited?"

"Oh I don't know- maybe because it's as hot as the fucking sun, maybe because after this I can go to my friend's house that has more booze than a bar, maybe because I might have some super cool power papa was trying to tell me about I don't know-"

"What? Power? Rosie, did you hit your head last night or something? Did you have gin in that coffee?" I roll my eyes, the white hospital bright from the sun coming in from the windows. He always worries too much, and sometimes it gets annoying. I don't care if I'm the younger one, I can take care of myself- I'm capable.

"No Jake, it's just- what Papa said to me, it kind of makes sense. I'm just going to test it out today- no big deal. If it doesn't work, I'll just sound like a bratty teenager. Don't worry about me fuckface." The nickname and insult was my way of trying to calm him down and it worked, for he eventually sighed and nodded. I grinned at him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before going into Dr. Evan's office.

I'm ready.

"Hello Rosalina, how are you feeling today?" I nearly scream with excitement, my leg jiggling at an alarming pace. My hands twist together nervously.

"Fine." Before she can say anything else, I realize I haven't insulted her yet, so she must think something's up. Insulting her it kind of a daily occurrence, and it's pretty interesting to come up with new degrading nicknames at the drop of a hat. "Hey, excuse me Wrinkle Queen, my therapy session, don't interrupt." She nearly rolls her eyes and sighs in annoyance before allowing me to speak. I take a deep breath in nervousness, letting my legs stop.

"Believe your words."

That's exactly what I'm going to do.

"Dr. Evans." She seems sort of surprised- after all, I don't think I've ever used her name besides sarcasm, like asking her if the reason she goes by Dr. is because she's embarrassed that she isn't married, or if she faked her qualifications. I feel energy surge through me in excitement, and I believe everything I'm about to say. "You're the Queen of England but you like to seduce people."

What? I said I was going to test my powers- I never said I was going to do it maturely. I watch her in excitement- this was it- Grandpa's stupid riddles were finally going to make sense. His death will finally have a fucking purpose. This is it, this is it!

"Why, I would never!"

Oh fuck. Fantastic.

Just before I could get yelled at for being inappropriate, her face goes slack. Like, completely expressionless. The side of my lip draws to my cheek as I let out a nervous gasp, my eyes flicking around guiltily. What the hell did I just do?

"Um... cunt face? You okay? Did I kill you?" I watch as she remains emotionless and I roll my eyes. "Oh fucking great, I kill you. Just- great." Before I could figure out what to do- I could call a nurse, considering we're in a damn hospital- she randomly shoots up, looking extremely posh. I turn rigid in my chair.

No fucking way.

"Why hello dear, how are you?" She sounds British- she sounds British! I did it! She's the whore version of the Queen of England! Her cool accent had an undertone of seductivity and I swear my grin nearly splits my face in half.

"I'm pretty fantastic, how about you?" She walks around the therapist confession couch and runs a hand along my shoulders, looking at me wistfully and I nearly smack myself as I realized what I did. I sent my therapist into a horny frenzy with only me in the room.

"Good, good, a bit lonely. You look a bit lonely yourself." I roll my eyes and turn to face her, feeling the same energy I felt before. No way I'm letting this lady do this to me- even if I could tell the board and have her fired, this was too much fun to pass up. Plus, in a way, yelling at her has sort of helped me.

"You are no longer the Queen of England. You are now back to your normal self, go sit down, and forget this ever happened." She did so, and I grinned. I did it- this is real. Grandpa wasn't a loon!

"Rosalina, your nose is bleeding." I look at her in confusion before grabbing a tissue from the box nearby and gently touching underneath my nose. True to her words, a mask of crimson liquid comes back with the white exterior. Just like when I was with my grandpa.

Small price to pay for being able to control a bitchy therapist and who knows what else.

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ᗰᗩᖇIETTᗩ

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Oh my God Marietta, a chapter that isn't in the book? Do you not know how Fanfiction works? Yes fuck face, I do.

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Questions; What do you think Rosalina will do with her new powers?

How will Jacob react?