Separate Entities//Miss Peregrine AU

Prologue

I have to admit, my first day in the small town of Englewood was terrible, and being alone didn't help at all. I knew nobody, and my closest relatives lived two hours away in Miami. The second day in Englewood wasn't much better. I had finished unpacking my boxes and went for a look around town, stopping by a McDonald's for lunch before checking out the exterior of the State College of Florida in Venice.

That was the only reason why I was in Englewood in the first place. At one thousand four hundred dollars a month, Englewood Bay Motel and Apartments was the cheapest thing I could find in the area that actually had free internet. I sure I could have found something closer if I had searched more, but a fifteen-minute drive to the college wasn't bad.

Before Englewood, I had lived in Orlando with my dad. My mother left when I was six, reverted to her maiden name, and became a national 'fiction' best-seller. Later, when she claimed her story was true, she was sent to a mental hospital, and my dad hasn't heard from her since.

My mom, Louise Turner, was strongly religious. She claimed that she won my dad over by converting him. The thing was, even though he was a painter, he was a pretty good actor as well. After their divorce, Louise sent me a copy of her book for my seventh birthday. I cried, of course. On the cover, written in bold Helvetica, was My Devil Child Daughter, by Louise Turner.

I had always been different. I wasn't saying that to sound 'cute and hipster' or 'super cheesy, but...'. To be one hundred percent honest, I could see spirits. Louise claimed that I managed to learn witchcraft at a young age, and claimed that my 'heathen father' taught me his 'evil ways'. The thing was, he was just as shocked as her. I knew then that talking about it wasn't a very good idea.

Of course, my father, being the peace-making guy he always was, tried to reason with Louise, saying that there are plenty of stories on the internet saying that children are closer to 'the other side'. That only made things worse for me, because my mother walked around the house for a year, locking me in my room and calling me 'Devil Child'. According to her book, I guess the name stuck. Then the divorce papers were signed and she was finally out of my life.

When I was nine, I got a weird present... Another dad. By that age my father had told me that he liked both men and women, and quite honestly, I was ecstatic. That year for my birthday, dad introduced me to his new partner, James. 'James and Oscar' were all the rage for the next month at school. My teachers were surprised how open I was about my 'gay dads', and even more so how greatly accepted it was. Most of my friends were jealous, stating that 'they wanted two dads'. They got married when I was eleven, and then the problems started.

I was still silent about my special 'talent'. I told James and dad a bit into the eighth grade that the spirits were still around. They were both freaked out but promised to help me. In high school my talent grew, and so did the hate towards my dads. Those two factors together caused me to quiet down. I was barely noticeable anymore, but that was how I liked it. Sure, my only friends at that point were punks and ghosts, but they made for great company. Plus, I got introduced to some damn good music.

Like my dad, art had always been a big passion of mine. My choice in college, of course, revolved around this. I know that there were better places in better areas to learn, but I was also looking for a small school. The State College of Florida in Venice was the answer to my prayers. A small college in a small town was all I could ask for. The distance was a problem, but I could handle it, and so could my dads.

On my third day in Englewood, I finally met someone - a human that I can actually call my friend. I had found a small cafe that wasn't Starbucks, finally - I hated their inflated prices - and managed to bump into the only waitress on duty. All she had was an empty tray, so I guessed she was just on her way out to clear some tables. After our collision, I picked up her tray and introduced myself, holding out a shy hand to shake.