August 10, 1842 (real-world date) June 17, 1828 (loop date)

I've decided to write a journal about my days with Miss. Peregrine. I fear it will sound dreadful, but no one will ever see it but me. Hopefully. Anyway, I should probably start at the beginning.

On June 17, 1828, I was born in Ireland. I can't remember where exactly, but I know it was there. When I was six years old, I displayed the first signs of my peculiarity. My mother was in the garden, and I was playing with my friends.

"Fiona, lassie, come over here," my mother said, pulling me down so I sat beside her. "When you get old like me and have a family of your own, you'll need to know how to grow your own food. Do not be foolish like your mother. Plant the potatoes early so they can grow nice and big."

"Momma," I asked, "will we have food to eat this winter?"

"I'm not sure love, but there is always hope." I remember looking into her big green eyes and seeing desperation and, on top of that, regret. My mum was always too hard on herself. She always wanted to be the perfect mother and wife, and even though she was, she didn't think so. I think I get my extreme emotions from her. I wish I got to tell her how incredible she was.

Then I recall looking at the weak potatoes and willing them to grow.

Miraculously, they did.

From then on, I grew food for the village. The town was so grateful for my services, the never questioned how I did it. By 1840, a large famine came upon all of Ireland. The main crops, potatoes, were dying. Of course, I helped my village.

One day, a large truck came hurtling into the town. Four large men jumped out, demanding to know where I was. I remember by mum shoving me into a closet, but they still found me. They said I was being charged as a witch, and was to be burned at the stake to next morning.

I remember the screams of my mother.

She begged.

She pleaded.

"You can't do this to her!" she screamed.

"She's only 12! Just a babe!" she screamed.

"Not my baby," she whispered, crying.

The next thing I heard was gunshot, and then her screams stopped.

Two men carried me out of my house. I was crying, not for me, but for my mother. I still have the image of her body in my head. They didn't just shoot her once, for her body was mangled and tangled on the ground. I can see my father crying over her, over me, telling me to stay safe. I sobbed out a promise to him I wasn't sure if I could keep, then I was gone.

The men put me in a truck. A big, green, terrifying truck. I sobbed until I was out of tears. I couldn't help it. My mother was dead, my father was alone, and I was to be killed the next day. That's a lot to deal with at twelve.

When my tears subsided, I notice three other women in the truck. Two were huddled together crying, but the other was watching me. She was short, with grey hair and glasses. At one glance you might think she was ninety years old, but when you looked closely, she appeared to be young, but full of wisdom.

The mysterious woman walked over and sat beside me. She hugged me tight and stroked my hair. This reminded me of my mother, and I began crying all over again. "Don't cry child. Talk to Mother. Tell me your story," the lady said softly.

"The-they killed my m-m-mother," I sobbed.

"Why did they do that child?"

"She t-tried to pro-protect me. They shot her," I said calming down enough to talk.

"Why did they take you lassie?"

"I grow plants. I look at them and they grow," I explained.

"Love; there are lots of people out there like you. I am like you. Tonight, we escape. We will go to the others," she said.

"You can grow plants?" I asked incredulous.

"Something like that child. I'll explain more later. My name is Rosetta Heron, but call me Mother H. for now, you need to get some sleep."

I don't remember being put I the jail cell, but I do remember getting out. I heard keys rattle, a lock clicking, and then I was pulled to my feet. It was Mother H. She took me and we ran all night. I remember falling asleep and her carrying me. I remember her putting me down in a soft bed hour later.

"Wake up darling, it's time for me to explain," Mother H crooned in my ear. She explained everything. About peculiars, ymbrynes, (she was one) loops, and hallows. She said peculiars were exiled among Normals, and that I needed to stay in her loop to be safe. Her loop was June 17, 1828, my birthday. She said it was fate, I say it was luck.

Then she introduced me to the other peculiars in her loop. First was Conor, a tall red headed boy. He was able to turn water into anything he desired.

Second was Maeve. She had the biggest purple eyes you've ever seen, a beautiful contrast to her silver hair. She could produce rainbows and see more colours than any person that ever lived.

Third was Horace, (yes, the Horace) a dapper young man who had prophetic dreams. He wore a suit and tie and always had his monocle with him.

Next was Emma. Emma was about my age, and she could produce fire from her hands. She welcomed me right away, but I had more people to meet before we could chat.

Along with many other peculiars, I met another ymbryne; although this one was in training with Mother H. Her name was Miss Alma Peregrine. She took me under her wing (no pun intended) and showed me the world of peculiars. She helped me catch up with the other kids, and became my second mother.