"Today was the day, my parents had finally given up on me, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that."
Ever feel like your own mind, your own body, is keeping secrets from you?
My name is Eden Moore, and I'm not scared of spiders, or snakes, I'm sca...
A/N~ Sorry this took soooooo long, but I hope you enjoy anyways!
Eden's P.O.V
I stood trembling in front of the bathroom mirror. Staring at the dark purple circles under my eyes, my eyes that were too blue. My hair that was too black, too curly. My skin that was too pale, and my body that was too thin. I stared at myself, the monster.
As tears flooded my cheeks, my shaking hand rested on the sink. Without dropping eye contact with myself in the mirror, I reached for the scissors. It's cool metal feel matched the chill in my bones.
I stared at myself as bit by bit, snip by snip, my raven black curls dropped into the sink. Every cut soothed me.
I set down the scissors, and viewed what was left of my hair. My mother had never let me have my hair short. She said it wouldn't suit me. I examined the now collar bone length hair, it had kept some curls, but I didn't recognize myself. Which I was glad of.
The old Eden was gone. I was now dangerous, unstable, and a problem.
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I slipped on the black dress with a white collar, and gently packed the dress Enoch had given my into my bag. One by one, the photos of him and us went in too.
With an empty blank expression on my face, I made my way to the front hall where all the children were waiting. Along with Miss Peregrine. It was apparent that Miss Avocet had left yesterday. The every sight of Miss Peregrine made me angry.
Everyone gawked at me, presumably because of my hair. Claire and Bronwyn sniffled, and Horace repeatedly readjusted his monocle, something he did when distressed.
I walked up to Miss Peregrine, who held out the wo metal gauntlets. After the cold iron was fastened around my hands, she attempted to place a hand on my shoulder, I jerked away and stared intensely at the woman who now arose a seething hatred inside me.
The solemn group of us began the walk to the Harbour. Enoch walked next to me, but everyone was silent. It was like a funeral procession, my funeral. Even Jacob was here, he stuck by Emma's side, his pale face looking troubled.
My boots crunched the gravel and dirt underneath them. I felt Enoch's hand grasp mine, although warm, it did not provide the comfort and reassurance I needed. That was most likely because there was no way to comfort me.
As the sea came into view, I shook off the feeling that tingled through my head and hands. Then I saw it, the dull rusted ferry that would be escorting me to my final and forever destination. The ship"s name was scrawled along its hull in faded white letters, however impossible to read.
The slow and methodical dragging of everyone's footsteps, including the clunk of Emma's metal shoes, rang out on the rotting wood of the dock. As expected there were little to no people on or around the boat. A few older sea-worn men with their caps pulled low over their eyes and the odd brave seagull were the only passengers on the dank smelling ship.
