Idyllic - Enoch O'Connor

One Shot

I analysed the sepia photograph that almost shattered in my hands. It was old and worn out - from the time and the number of times it has been handled. The photo represented a small cave that seemed to be forgotten by everyone. The passage to the time that permeated most of my grandmother's teenage stories. I lowered the photo, seeing that I was directly in front of that same cave, on the small Welsh island of Cairnholm. I put the photograph in the pocket of my torn jeans and took a deep breath, trying to ignore how shaky my hands were. This was the moment I had been waiting for years, since my grandmother started telling me stories about this loop and I fell in love. I took a deep breath, knowing that this moment would change my life and I would not go back to my time again. I was prepared to leave everything I knew behind, with the proper farewells already made.

I squeezed the strap of the backpack that held some of my belongings and entered the cave. I could tell when I entered 1943. The air changed around me, becoming more dense before quieting. The sounds became calmer and my breathing heavier despite being in less polluted air - but I could blame the emotions. When I returned to the beach, the sky was no longer terribly cloudy. Instead, blue was prevalent, with only a few clouds. I smiled, because that meant I had done it. I followed the beach along the path I had taken the day before, when I visited the wreckage of the orphanage. It hadn't been a pleasant visit. Even knowing the loops existed and how all the children were saved, seeing the place in pieces was heartbreaking. No wonder Grandma never returned to that place. But as I retraced my journey - familiar and at the same time unsettlingly different - I was trying to control my emotions. I didn't know how everyone would react to my presence. Grandma was still in correspondence with Miss Peregrine, but I didn't know the extent of their knowledge about me. Much less if they knew I was coming and whether they would be receptive to my arrival or not.

I started to hyperventilate when imagining the possibility of not being accepted, by everyone and by a peculiar one in particular. I stopped where I was, a few feet from crossing the small stream before the trees that hid the orphanage, and tried to take a deep breath. Even though there was a chance I wouldn't be accepted, I had no other choice. Grandma was already getting old to protect me alone from the Hollows and I had no choice but to head to one of the loops around the world marked on the map Grandma gave me - and of course my obvious choice would be the one where my grandmother spent almost a decade living. When I felt calmer, I continued my walk. Seeing the big house - with reddish bricks and flowers growing through the structure - that housed Grandma's best childhood friends, I couldn't help the smile forming on my lips. The first to see me was a small, blond little girl in a pink dress that swayed around her body as she ran towards me.

"Eloise! You came back!"

My heart sank and the smile was gone.

"I ... I'm not Eloise. I'm her granddaughter, Wendy." I replied. She stopped in front of me, studying my face.

She looked a little sad, but soon opened a big smile. "You look a lot like her. I'm Claire. Come, you have to meet everyone! They will be very happy!"

She started pulling me by the arm and, as much as I was eager to get to know everyone - even though I already knew from the stories I heard all my life - there was something I needed to do before.

"I would really love to, but I think I need to speak to Miss Peregrine first. Can you take me to her? Then you can introduce me to everyone."

"Of course! Let's go!

Claire took me to the door. Every few meters that we walked, some new child turned to see who Claire was guiding so excitingly. Whispers and murmurs after a few seconds of silence. My arrival left the other children in an uproar. Wide eyes and surprised faces, they started whispering to each other, but none approached as Claire led me to the door. Perhaps because of my resemblance to my grandmother or the current clothes I wore. I looked among the children who were watching me, but the face I was looking for, however, was not among them.