In Your Dreams: An Enorace Fanfiction

Chapter 1

      Please vote and comment if you like this book! I have two other works: another (actually terrible) Enorace fic and a oneshot book which I am definitely taking requests on! Please feel free to read them and request a oneshot for me, I would be more than happy to take it on! Thanks for the support 💕

Darkness, sadness, destruction; everything Horace saw when he closed his eyes. Why were his visions always so terrible? And why on Earth couldn't he figure out how to control them? Some days, his "gift" felt more like a curse, despite the other children's amazement towards his ability to see the future. Somehow, it only seemed like he could see the bad parts. As a little boy, his dreams and visions had been wonderful, except when he predicted the death of his cousin, but why did he have to go ahead and tell his parents? They neglected Horace, thinking he was some lunatic who thought he could see the future, locking him in his room to suffer alone. If only he could've predicted how telling them would have changed his life forever.

      Where would he be right now if it weren't for showing his parents? Perhaps in a private school, with many normal friends, living each day anew.

      Shut up, shut up! he told himself. He mustn't think this way, this life was a blessing. But he could not help but wonder, as he sat under the library window, where he would be as of now.

      He took another sip of hot tea, soothing his raw throat. The memories of his night terrors flooded his mind, but he pushed them away and flipped the page of his novel. Nothing to sooth the mind like reading.

      The bags under his eyes weighed down his pale face, and his bitten fingernails made no good impression, either. Horace looked like hell. The last week had been horrendous, a vision each day and a terror each night. The last time it had gotten this bad, it almost drove him insane. Where is the button to travel back in time where all his dreams were interesting, exciting, hopeful? He needed it now more than ever. But he could live off of three hours a night, Enoch did it. Enoch, his friend. Friends do stuff for each other, so would he mind if Horace were to barge in at 3 in the morning? Most likely.

Horace's eyelids were feeling extremely heavy now, he couldn't keep them open any longer. The words on the pages were becoming blurry, and the world around him turned black...........

Miss Peregrine was buzzing about the kitchen, preparing a soup for supper. The broth was boiling, potatoes chopped, she just needed one thing.

"Tell Fiona to grab a carrot, please," she ordered Horace. He nodded and walked out of the house, but the back yard suddenly formed into a tailor shop filled with shiny shoes, trousers, ties, and jackets of all kinds. He walked around admiring the attire, before standing in front of two navy blue suits. Should he get the longer one? Or the one with the bow tie?

"Horace?" Enoch was standing behind him with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor.

"Yes, Enoch?" He continued to stare at the floor, before shaking his head and walking out of the tailor shop. The scene slowly faded away. Horace was now laying in the water on the beach, the waves crashing up against his cold body. His freezing, shivering body.

Horace slowly lifted his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He couldn't stop shivering no matter how cuddled up in the corner of the sofa he was with the open window blowing in the frigid morning air above him. His tea had spilt on the coffee table, and his book had fell off of his lap and onto the floor with its pages curled in.

      "Bloody hell," he cursed, picking up his novel and shoving it back into its place in the shelf next to the couch. He yawned and stretched his arms out while trying to recall last night's dream. Surprisingly, he couldn't remember much but him and Enoch in some boutique. Horace picked up the teacup and took his handkerchief to wipe up the little bit of tea on the table. A purple rim shone around his eyes, and it was as if all of his energy had been drained out of him. His energy would come back to him somehow.

"What are you doing here, mate?" Millard stood in the doorway of the library wearing his pajamas, probably about to do some light morning reading.

"Doesn't matter, I was just about to leave, anyway," Horace replied and stood up before pushing past him into the hallway. Millard scoffed and continued on with his morning while Horace stumbled over to his room. The clock on his bedtime stand read 7:05. Good, he was able to grab at least four hours of sleep. Knowing that last nights dream wasn't terrible made him wish he had fallen asleep sooner. Maybe a cold shower would wake him up before breakfast.

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      The bell in the kitchen rang and bounced off of the hallway walls, startling Horace and making him mess up his hair.

      "Drat," he muttered and brought the comb back through his tidy, slicked back, blonde hair. He looked at his mirror and decided he looked dapper enough with his maroon suit jacket over his white dress shirt and black tie.
While he was walking down the stairs, he could hear Enoch and Millard arguing from inside of the dining room.

     "-because I have to deal with you all day!" Enoch yelled. Right when Horace entered the room, Enoch slammed his fork down and stomped off to the basement.

      "Bastard," Millard cursed under his breath. Miss Peregrine glared at him with her hand clenched so hard around the fork that the blood had drained from her knuckles that were now white.

      "Polite persons do NOT curse at the dining table. Get to your room," she scolded him with an icy stare, but he was already getting up. What a perfect time to join for breakfast. Horace silently walked over to a seat next to Bronwyn and Hugh. An awkward silence filled the room until Olive finally began to chat with Claire and Bronwyn, and Horace finally asked Hugh what all of the yelling was about.

      "I think it all started because Millard spilt his orange juice on Enoch. I don't even know how it turned so quickly," he explained while shoving a massive bite of pancake into his mouth, and a few stray bees flew out and landed on the table. Horace just chuckled and began to fix his plate. Enoch seemed more grumpy and melancholy lately, and he wanted to know why. Was he getting more impatient in the loop? Was a certain experiment he was conducting failing repeatedly? It wouldn't be the first time. He just shrugged it off, though, Enoch would snap out of it sooner or later.

      "Well, how is everyone's morning so far?" Miss Peregrine asked in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

      "I had a dream about living in a castle!" Claire exclaimed. "There were knights on horses, and butlers who did anything we wanted, and all of you were there." She smiled brightly and Miss Peregrine chuckled.

      "That seems splendid, Claire. What about you, Horace? Dream anything unusual?" He snapped out of his staring contest with his bacon and turned his attention to everyone else, who was waiting curiously.

      "Not really, mostly clothes," he admitted with flushed cheeks. The discussion then split into their separate groups again.

      Breakfast went on as usual, everyone enjoying their meals and talking to one another. Right as Horace was helping the headmistress clean the table, Millard came down the stairs and snatched up some bacon before muttering a quiet apology to Miss Peregrine and helping them. She heard him, though, and patted him in the shoulder.

      "Did you fall asleep in there?" Millard asked Horace when the dishes were all done, talking about the library. "Your eyes are bloodshot, did you even sleep?" Millard was always so worried and curious about everyone, and occasionally it got incredibly annoying.

      "I was just reading and fell asleep, don't worry," Horace replied with a smile, even though he wished he would just stop asking questions, but he knew that he was just looking out for him. Millard shrugged and walked away, leaving him be.