Healing - Book One

eighteen

Two lines of young people, separated by gender, stand either side of the runner rug in the hotel lobby. I catch sight of myself in the large mirror in between two of the boys. I wear a headpiece with a ruffle of net which obscures my vision. It matches a dainty pair of satin gloves which I pull further up my wrist.

Clicking of stiletto heels against the marble tiles signal Miss Peregrine's arrival. Instead of her usual dark attire, she wears a sea-green two piece and her hair is covered with a wide-brim hat.

"The church is a short walk from here. We shall walk single file down the road with Jacob at the rear and myself at the front. Come along, children."

She starts towards the door, and the two rows follow along, robotically merging into one line. Like a small army, we march down the steps and the gravel of the drive crunches amazingly under more than a dozen pairs of feet.

The journey is silent, yet buzzing with quiet excitement at the opportunity to go to a wedding - something I am sure a lot of my peers have not done before, including myself.

Once we turn into the village, I see and recognise the church immediately. What feels like fluttering butterflies appear in my stomach at the thought of such a beautiful event occurring in less than half an hour. I just know Aggie will look wonderful - she always wanted a white ball gown to be wed in.

Claire slides her tiny hand into mine as we approach the oak doors: however they are not open. A suddenly puzzled Miss Peregrine glances around the area, before giving the handles a shove and swinging open the doors. Although I cannot yet see why, I know something is not right for her brows furrow close together. Slowly, she steps into the church, closely followed by us children.

I sharply inhale - my chest feels as if something is pressing down on it hard. The pews are empty - there are no flowers at the alter and no organist behind the organ. The group diffuses into the room, gawping.

"Do you reckon we got the wrong church?" I hear Enoch exclaim. His voice echoes eerily.

"It is most certainly the correct place." Miss Peregrine says, her voice drifting on the weak breeze which circulates around the church.

I stand in between two benches and take another glance around the room. It appears my feelings are shared - anxious expressions are replicated across every face present.

Two rows behind me stands Enoch, staring straight at me. We converse silently in gestures of confusion and, in my case, worry. Fiddling with the white boutonnière on his jacket, he winds his way into the aisle and joins me between the pews. Even though a meter or two lies between us, loud sniffing can be heard from Olive's direction. I choose to ignore it, for in a situation as tense as this one, there is no place for her prolonged sensitivity.

My attention is only drawn away when the sound of a car in the unusually silent town becomes louder and louder. All heads turn towards the doors as we see a black automobile parking outside the open entrance. The door opens - and my aunt steps out into the cobbles. She wears a snow-white gown with lace sleeves and a veil covering her face. She beams, however her smile slowly fades as she enters the church.

I push past Enoch and scuttle down the aisle to gather Aggie up in my arms. Her body shakes and I hear tiny noises which must be her crying. In amongst the sorrowful scene, the door slams shut; three loud footsteps crack against the tiling. Upon glancing up, I see Oliver, wearing a dark suit and a top hat.

I let go of Aggie, prompting her to turn around. She looks at her fiancé with bleary eyes.

"Oliver," she whimpers. "Where are the rest of the guests?"

The man chuckles, sending shivers down my spine. I stare at him coldly - for this could only be his doing.

"Do you notice anything about everybody present, Agatha?" He snarls, advancing towards us. "Anything they have in common? Don't you think that they're rather-" He pauses, reaching into his jacket pocket. "Peculiar? You're all freaks." With his final snarling word, he pulls a pistol from his pocket.

The silver firearm prompts sharp gasps to take all air. I tremble on the spot, frozen in terror. Oliver says nothing else - just raises the gun towards me.

I am in shock. The scene moves slowly. The sounds of little girls crying and the hushed orders from Miss Peregrine to the children become distant and indecipherable. Somebody grabs at my hand but I am unable to respond. Instead I'm staring right down the barrel, accepting my tragic fate as a result of how I was born.

While I watch the weapon somewhat calmly, a white mass comes in between myself and the hole. My trance ends when I realise that Aggie is about to take a bullet for me. I shove my hands into her side to try and move her but it's too late. The gunshot pierces the air and Aggie's weight suddenly falls onto me and pushes me to the ground.

A dark blur flies at Oliver from across the room as I scramble from under my aunt's lifeless body. Cradling her in my arms, I watch as a single trail of scarlet blood trickles from the obnoxious hole in her forehead. Her eyes are glazed and frozen in a constant expression of fear. I feel my heart ripping in two.

Breathing heavily, I press my hand against her forehead and force anything I can onto the hole to try and close it but nothing is happening. I open my mouth and scream at the top of my lungs while hot tears stream from my eyes, dropping down the bodice of my dress. On the other side of Aggie's body sits Miss Peregrine, just a shape through the distortion of my tears. I launch my head down on the body's chest and sob. She's gone.