Chapter Two

Island Living

     I groaned as the light of a new day woke me up, and I sat up in bed, cracking my eyes open hesitantly. At first, I didn't recognize my surroundings. I sat in a bundle of white sheets and an itchy, brown quilt on an old wooden bed, another bed identical to this own but made much neater to my left. The walls were white and decorated with small, quaint paintings, a desk at the foot of the bed, and windows with the lacey curtains open wide, showing the view of the ocean, a tall lighthouse and a small cottage next to it.

     The view instantly reminded me of where I was, and I rubbed my hands along my face to not only wake myself up, but prevent any distracting thoughts arise— did it work? Not really, but I was at least feeling awake enough to move my legs to the side of the bed and stand up, stretching.

     I got to work on the suitcase as the side of my bed, fishing out clothes for the day, clothes that weren't my school uniform from the other day that now reeked of sweat and salt. I pulled out a white button-up, similar to the one given at my school but the sleeves were much more poofy and flowy, and nice beige pants to go with my worn boots.

     I stepped out of the room, the door extremely creaky but not surprisingly, looking at how old fashioned the shack was, and navigated aimlessly through the halls to find a bathroom. After trying a third door that was not locked, I went in and cleaned myself up, changing out of my PJs and trying to tame the wild beast that was my hair. Brushing my teeth usually didn't take long, but the small window next to the toilet beckoned me closer, and with my toothbrush hanging out the side of my mouth, I drew back the practically see-through curtain to look down onto the small town.

     Although there weren't many people around, they walked to and fro, going from one house to the next. Most of them wore heavy jackets as the wind blew through their hair, and this made me unconsciously shiver, looking down at my own clothes. I clearly wasn't dressed for the weather here, despite my hometown already being rather cold in climate. Looking back up, I saw some teens my age, but the way they held themselves and dressed reminded me of the kids that would push me around in primary school. I immediately scrunched up my face at the thought; I would like to explore the town, but I most definitely wasn't going to ask help from them.

     I turned back to the sink and finished up, wiping my mouth with the towel I had packed and cleaning off my toothbrush before grabbing my stuff and exiting the bathroom. I made my way back to my room to quickly drop off my things, pick up a woolly scarf and a nice jacket, and head down the steps of the inn.

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     After a brief chat with the innkeeper— he had kindly asked how my night was and I cheerfully responded that I had slept like a log, leaving out the part where I had forgotten when and how I had arrived— I made my way outside and was immediately thankful that I had been smart enough to bring a coat, the crisp breeze nipping at my nose and ears.

     I took in a deep breath and sighed. I now knew why my clothes smelt so salty, despite being a good mile and a half away from the coast, the air still stung with the sea water, although oddly enough it was very calming. I glanced around, situating myself with my surroundings and trying to map out where to go. After much internal debate, I chose to set off further into the town, and afterwards I would explore the road that led left to the inn, leading out of town and deeper into the island; despite some strange feeling that something was calling me to go left, I fought my curiosity and walked right, down the pavement and towards some quaint, vintage looking shops.

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     Despite the shrinking population and the fact there were only two shops besides the generic market, my smile and fondness for Cairnholm only grew. I was glad to not have a lot of spare change on me, or I would have probably spent it all in the old rundown vintage store that sold expensive looking porcelain animals for a cheap price, but when I had stumbled into Ye Ol' Sweets shop just across the road, I couldn't help but buy a peppermint and let the old man keep the change— honestly he was sweeter than the sweets themselves.

     After suckling on the peppermint and walking around the old shop, admiring old paintings and worn out furniture, I headed to the Cairnholm museum, where Mr Pagett was kind enough to let me in for free and give me a guided tour of the museum. He told me of how it was once a church, and fondly spoke of the few exhibits that were held there, but I noticed how he was particularly passionate about one in particular, "The Old Man". I had listened to him enthusiastically talk about the tar man for at least 20 minutes, before we went back to the entrance and he bid me farewell with a kind smile.

     Once I got back outside however, I noticed the sudden change in weather and how the air was more bitter than usual. My feet led me back to the Priests Hole as I stood at its door for a while, gazing up at the sky. The clouds grew darker, and I could see rain slowly move across the sea, towards the town, but this didn't stop my gaze from being drawn to the left of the inn, outside the town and further out than the trees. My curiosity had only peaked ever since my visit to the museum— on one of the walls sat a lovely picture of the children's orphanage that sat outside of town, or at least a picture of what it looked like before a bomb had fallen through its roof. I remember gasping at the tragic story, Mr Pagett smiling sadly at the memory and my reaction.

     But what got me most curious was the mention of a peregrine. Perhaps not the bird itself, but rather the name of the Headmistress herself, Miss Alma LeFay Peregrine.

     A low rumble from out of the sea deterred me from my thoughts, but it did not stop me from gazing out to the left. My eyes flickered from the clouds to the old road, back and forth and I mentally debated going into the storm. On one hand my mind said I had enough adventure today, and that my stomach was beginning to growl from hunger that a small peppermint couldn't satiate, but on the other hand my curiosity was practically bursting from my chest, as if my heart— no, my soul was begging me, pleading me to turn left.

     As I was about to take a step forward, a loud bang made me flinch as my eyes was pulled from the trees and back to the clouds. Ran had started to pour on the old Priests Hole but I had been too infatuated with the thought of finding the old orphanage that I hadn't even noticed I was now soaking wet, my fiery hair clinging to my face and my hands gripping my arms tightly in search for warmth.

     My body seemed to move without much thought as I retreated into the warm, inviting inn, and I immediately sat down in the pub part of it, smiling at the keeper as he nodded, knowing I was there to get a nice meal before heading back up stairs. After going out with a warm bowl of soup, I thanked him and quickly drank up, sighing in relief as I slowly started to warm up again, but I still shivered in place, wet clothes clinging to me tightly.

     I brought the bowl up to the counter and climbed up the steps, hearing the occasional thunder from outside— I could also hear how hard the rain was now pelting down on the roof, and I knew that despite longing for adventure, I had made the right decision in going inside. The rain didn't seem pleasant to be caught under right now, no matter how much I tried to romanticize the thought of dancing in it through the forest.

     The door once again creaked as I opened it, and shutting it firmly behind me, I shed the clothes I was wearing and grabbed the pyjamas I had failed to put on last night for some reason. Once comfortably in those, I delicately placed the soaking shirt and trousers on the radiator, choosing to leave the coat and scarf hanging on the coat hanger next to the door. I didn't have a lot of clothes so they were the top priority.

     Despite the feeling of longing returning, I refused to look out the window, knowing that 1, I might just get dressed again and leave to find the mysterious orphanage, and 2, just looking at the rain would send a shivers down my spine— hell, even just thinking about it, I felt colder. Instead, I brushed my now damp hair into a messy bun and sat at the rather bare looking desk, turning the lamp on and fishing the the drawers. I found a stack of black sheets of paper, and a fountain pen— opening it up, I found that there was barely any ink left, but putting it down onto the page, it still worked:

     "Cairnholm is such a small yet mysterious village. Most, if not all of the inhabitants are old, retired shepherds that seem to be living their own lives, but when I look into their eyes, they seem clouded and shrouded in secrets. It's more than likely just my far fetched imagination, ever since the boat ride to the island, my mind has been feeling hazy. I know they have nothing to hide, but I still feel like there is something bigger happening, something larger than anyone on this island could imagine, but I can't begin the fathom what, and it's all hiding in the trees. The trees are calling for me, calling my name, telling me something, but I can't hear what it is. I can't hear it over the sound of th—"

     The ink ran out.

     AUTHORS NOTES:

Many apologies for the wait, I've been meaning to really buckle down and write this but it isn't always easy to balance out college work and writing!
I do hope those reading this fanfiction like it, and if so or even if not, I'd love some feedback, it's always appreciated!

~ yours truly, Khaos