Book One: Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (My Remake)

Chapter 11~We Should Give Them Their Privacy

"We have to get out of here," Jacob said, panic filling his words. "We have to go before the bomb hits!"

Olive giggled. "He doesn't know! He thinks we're going to die!"

I could feel panic in my chest as well, preparing my body to shut down but my mind was very clearly working.

"It's only the changeover," Millard said matter-of-factly with a shrug of his jacket. "No reason to get your knickers in a twist."

"Wait, this happens every. Single. Night?" I asked.

Miss Peregrine nodded. " Every single evening." I glanced over at Jacob but he looked ready to fall out his chair and run in the basement for cover. Though, I couldn't blame him. This was terrifying! Sure, doing this for seventy years these children are used to it! But the blaring siren, rattling house and ear piercing bombs were new to Jacob and I!

"May we go outside and show Jacob and Amber?" said Hugh. I wanted to shake my head vigorously: No! No! but my head wouldn't swivel.

"Yes may we?" Claire begged. First time she spoke in twenty minutes. "The changeover is ever so beautiful!" Bombs exploding on my head are not beautiful! My head was still firmly planted on my neck, was there something wrong with my muscles? Move neck, move! I felt like Batman. (One of the only movies I had ever seen)

Miss Peregrine pointed to their full plates but the children rebelled with full on puppy dog eyes and quivering bottom lips. "Oh, alright. So long as you wear your masks!"

The children burst out their seats. Claire giggling and all the boys rushing out. It was then that I noticed Olive was still strapped to her chair, but by then almost everyone was gone. I walked into the foyer and tapped Hugh's shoulder. "Hugh, Olive is still in her chair," I pointed to the dining room when suddenly the brawny girl was walking out, holding Olive's hand.

"I'm sorry I left you magpie!" she said.

Olive gave the girl a reassuring smile. "It's okay!"

I turned around to find two images of myself reflecting off wide glass eye holes. "Here, put this on," Hugh told me. I took hold of the mask and turned it over in my hand. It looked like a sad, metal elephant with large nostrils. I put it on gently, it smelled like plastic and sweat. When I began breathing the air felt warm and lacking. I then realized this was a gas mask from the photos that I had seen at the museum. Who would have thought I would actually put one on?

Most of the children had walked out the door on the lawn. Only Olive and the girl were left, picking out the last two masks and strapping them to their faces. I walked out the door and onto the grass, everyone was scattered around the lawn, some sitting and others far away from each other, like the last bits of cereal lazily floating above the milk. I was added to the bowl and craned my neck up to see. In the distance rising plums of smoke floated above burning trees. The siren was still blaring and I found it extremely annoying, and these children have been hearing it every night for seventy years!

The summer sun was beginning to set filling the sky with magnificent shades of red, yellow and orange. Somewhere in the distance, unseen planes soared across the sky, spreading the noise of propellers spinning in the wind. There was a small breeze brushing the grass like you do when petting a cat, each hair gleaming slightly at every movement. This would have been rather peaceful had I not known an impending rain of bombs was about to implode.

Just as I called it a muffled blast blew toward us and my heart skipped a beat as I jumped in the air screaming. It felt like someone had turned on a bass at the school dance and every low pitch thumped your chest, followed by a wave of heat with no fire passing through me.