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The Eleventh Day of Fanfic

On the eleventh day of fanfic, my H.G. gave to me… eleven kids a running!

Ten scouts a-gifting!

Nine guys a-walking!

Eight “chefs” a-cooking!

Seven Jedi dudes!

Six knights a-training…

FIVE JARS OF RUM!!!!!

Four kids and Aslan!

Three wizard ships.

Two-oo festive Daleks.

and the Everdeen’s Christmas tree!

~~~

I wake up on Christmas Eve, at first almost forgetting where I am.

Then I bolt upright. I’m here, in Miss Peregrine’s home for children like me. Children with special gifts and abilities. I’m safe! The hollows can’t touch me here.

I hop out of bed and think for a minute. I want to look nice, to impress the other kids here… but what to wear? Well, red’s a festive color, so I’ll go with red. I snap my fingers, and a spool of taffeta fabric appears at my feet. I move my hands, pulling the fabric up my body with a few motions of my hand, snapping and swishing. I finish the dress by making a scissor motions with my fingers. The dress is short-sleeved and goes to my knees, fanning out like a bell with a ribbon at my waist. Pretty, but not overdone. I head out the door of my room.

Instantly, I’m almost knocked over by Brownwyn, the strong girl. “Give it back, Horace!” she’s shouting.

“Hey, Bronwyn!” I shout after her. She turns around. “Something I can help with?”

“Enoch stole my hat!” she shouts, annoyed, pointing to the small boy. I smile. Now’s my chance to prove that I have a good skill, too. Millard, the invisible boy, teases me about my talent, saying clothes-making isn’t anything peculiar. I’ll show them.

“Let me stop him for you,” I say. I close my eyes and reach out my hands. I form tulle and make a net out of it, then throw it as hard as I can. It lands before Enoch, tangling him. I pull on the hat with my mind, and it soars into my hands.

“Here you are,” I say, handing it to Bronwyn.

“Thank you, Clarrisa!”she exclaims happily.

“No problem!” I wink, and then summon a spool of fabric to surf across the room on. I pass Hugh and Jacob, debating what to get for their girlfriend. Emma Bloom is lighting the electric lamps. Millard is probably walking around, invisible somewhere… maybe right beneath me…

I shudder. I’m still not used to invisibles.

So I continue down the hall. “Morning, Horace!” I call as I pass. “Morning, Claire!” She goes past me at a run. Everyone’s running today. So many peculiar kids…

“Morning, Olive!” I call, seeing the little girl levitating against the ceiling, spreading dirt on it. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Fiona wants dirt everywhere so she can grow mistletoe anywhere in the house. To catch Hugh!” Olive grins, and goes back to spreading.

Ah, of course. Fiona, girl of the jungle, who grows plants anywhere there’s dirt. “Where is she?”

“Running around downstairs, I think. Practicing.”

Is everyone running today? I shrug my shoulder and head on.

Then, I crash right into Miss Peregrine.

“Oh, goodness!” she exclaims as we fall in a heap. “Clarissa, what did I say about fabric surfing?”

“Sorry, Miss P.!” I say, hopping off my spool and vaporizing it. “I”ll just run like everyone else.”

“See that you do.”

So, running is acceptable, but fabric surfing isn’t? I shrug. I’m still not used to this place.

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