Credibility- A Miss Peregrine's Fanfiction

Hay Fever And Other Shortcomings

A little bit of Enolyn in this chapter and something special at the end in honor of Loop Day.

It was very cramped in the cage, and I really didn't like all the dirty hay in there, either. I seemed to be allergic to it, and sat in the corner of the cage with itchy eyes and a running nose. The others sat in a circle around arguing with each other.

"Hear that?" Enoch said eventually, kneeling down next to Miss Peregrine.

"What?" Bronwyn replied.

"The sound of Miss Peregrine's life slipping away! Emma, you should've burned those Gypsies' faces off while you had the chance!"

"We were surrounded!" Emma said. "Some of us would've gotten hurt in a big fight. Maybe killed. I couldn't risk that."

"So instead you risked Miss Peregrine's life." Enoch stated, a dour look on his face.

"Enoch, leave her be." Bronwyn said.

"Yeah, really." Hugh said.

Enoch rolled his eyes, as he was used to people gaming up on him. I suppose he decided the safest place to sit would be next to me. He also ignored Hugh staring at him.

He made himself comfortable. "Not my first choice in company, you know?" Enoch said, looking over at me. "Oh, lord, I didn't mean you. I meant everyone else. I'm trying to get you to like me again."

"Enoch, please stop." I said, before having a coughing fit. Enoch scooted away from me. I thought he was afraid of me coughing on him, but instead he reached over to Horace's breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. Horace was about to react until he looked from me back to Enoch. Then he settled back down.

Enoch handed the square of cloth to me. "Here, this is for you. Breathe into it, it'll help filter the pollen. I used to walk around with one on my face all the time back in London. It was for the smoke. 'Course, 'snot London's fault, my lungs were just not strong enough to handle the air, that's all."

"Definitely." I agreed, tying the cloth around my face like a train bandit from the American Old West. Enoch stared at me. "Um, are you alright?" I asked, waving my hand in front of his face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Your eyes just remind me of a doll I once had. A really good amber color. I took them out with a butter knife and used them on another one once the head broke too bad." He said, his gaze not leaving me. I smiled politely and blushed.

"Well, thank you for the compliment."

"Uh huh. I like yours better. You know, you're better than any doll." Said Enoch.

"Yeah, but not as good as my dolls on Cairnholm." Olive said, sliding into the conversation. Her face got a little sad. "I miss my toys." She said in a quiet voice.

"Well, when we get back in a loop we'll buy lots of new toys." I said to her. She crawled next to me and put her head in my lap.

"I know, Netta, but they won't be the same. I hope Princess Peapot and Lord Bellafontaine aren't missing me too much." Olive said sadly, her voice wobbling.

"Considering they're just glass and cloth you don't have to worry about what they think." Enoch said. "You're far too old for dolls anyway."

"I am not, Enoch!" Olive said, picking her head up. "Bronwyn said I can play with dolls whenever I want no matter how old I am!"

"Are too!" He exclaimed. "You're such a baby."

"I am not!" Olive bawled. "Stop being so mean."

"There's no room for crybabies on this trip!" Enoch shouted.

"Shut up you lousy street rats!" Shouted one of the Gypsy men who was sitting at a campfire.

"Shove off, you bloody bastard!" Enoch yelled at the man.

"Everyone, stop, for God's sake. I'm trying to formulate a plan!" Jacob exclaimed. Olive slumped back down into my lap and cried silently, once in a while heaving sobs. Enoch crossed his arms and ignored both her and me, instead choosing to stare out the bars of the cage.

~*~

I apologize ahead of time if this is bad or unnecessary. I watched the Dead Poet's Society last night and I guess got some inspiration to write a little poem.

There once was a person who loved mphfpc
They'd simply sit and read their books for days on end, you see
And when their parents called them to dinner they'd give a heaving sigh
And crane their necks up to the heavens, simply asking why

All their peers around them just didn't understand
The feeling that they'd get from reading such a series grand
Many days they'd wish for a chance to cross the sea
And meet peculiar children, flowers, homunculus and bee

For Emma to take their hands and lead them in the fog
And through the cairn they'd trail her, having passed that muddy bog
And between the hanging tree branches which mask the lovely yard
To come out on the other side to a house remained unmarred

Miss Peregrine standing at the door saying "My dear, I'm glad you're here."
"Why don't you come join us for supper, you've nothing left to fear."
They follow her through the enormous house marveling at every sight
So very excited to see what will happen next or to their right

But they know it's just a story and that their fantasies won't come true
That's why they spend nearly every day reading a page or two
They care about the world and all the people in it
And would listen to all of Abe Portman's stories for more than a minute

They went to see the movie and were appalled at the mistakes
And kept on with the book canon even though it made headaches
Spent some time on Tumblr to look at some aesthetics
Loved all characters equally even though some were pathetic

They celebrate this loop day to remember what they love
The guy or girl who reads the books and holds them all above
That's why I took some time out of the chapter to say a few
Let me know if you liked this poem, dear reader, cause that person is you.