"It’s not what you painted in my head. There’s so much there instead of all the colors that I saw."

---

  Enoch woke up early in the morning, determined today to get closer to Prism by stepping foot out of his room. He smoothed out his  sweater and fixed his hair. He headed out the door, the clay man from yesterday following happily. Enoch sauntered down the hallway towards Prism's room.

  He knocked on the door.

  "Am I supposed to let you in?"Her voice called.

  He wanted to laugh but he knew she felt insulted. Enoch sat down with the pad in his hand, twiddling the fountain pen between his fingers

  "No. I'll just sit out here."He replied.

  It was quiet for a few minutes. He could hear and feel the wooden foundation creak and screech with fatigue. He leaned against the door.

  "So you're still afraid of me, huh?"Prism mused, her voice solemn.

  Enoch wanted to reassure her he wasn't. But that'd be everything but true. A disrespectful lie simply to make her feel better about herself. Yet her blinding claustrophobic fortress of solitude was a box of mirrors. And the reflection she saw was a monster that nobody loved. Not even herself.

  "..Yes."Enoch admitted.

  His hands clenched into fists and he looked off down the hall. He felt weight on the door from the other side. His heart sped up a little, but slowed when he realized she was just leaning against the door.

  "I'm not surprised."She heaved."To be honest, I learned to be afraid of myself."

  Enoch frowned lightly. He rested his head on the door, hoping she could sense the compassion he was trying to send her. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

  "I was never too surprised that people were afraid of me. Or, rather, they were intimidated by me."

  She was quiet."What is your peculiarity? I never really figured it out, even while listening to the everyone."

  "I take life from one and give to another. Though, I usually give life to inanimate objects."

  Enoch was never scared of his own peculiarity. Maybe from time to time he had been ungrateful for it. But he simply felt as if his peculiarity wasn't as special as he wanted it to be. It didn't save lives, it took lives and put them under his control. His peculiarity benefited nobody but the sick demon waltzing with his conscience while wearing a mask.

  Prism put her forehead against the door."I actually like this loop."She mused tiredly. The light in the room not only kept her from using her peculiarity, it also kept her from sleeping. But she never told Miss Peregrine such.

  "Nobody ever hears me."She said.

  Enoch stared at the door where he supposed Prism was laying.

  "I hear you."

  "That's not what I mean, Noch."He flinched at the nickname."Everybody sees a chained down dragon. A sly dragon the kind of dragon that wants to use his silver tongue to get you to open his cage and break off his shackles then rip open your throat and devour your vocal chords so nobody can hear you scream as he dismembers you slowly."

  That was colorful.

  "Every time my mouth opens, they don't hear me. They hear that silver tongued dragon. They don't believe I have a soul. So clearly I don't speak like I have one. Every word I say makes a violent implication on what I want to destroy and how I want to destroy it. But..that's just not the case. It never was. And I don't get why they always think that."

  Enoch gazed down. This information was impertinent to remember. He linked his fingers together before offering the warmth of a tiny smile, hoping she could feel it.

  "I hear you."He repeated.

  "Nobody tells me, but I know they're frightened of me. Intimidated by me. Because I can bring things back from the dead."

  "But that's kinda helpful."She sounded. Enoch felt a twang of warmth, happy she supported him.

  "Prism.."He started."Just because I bring them back to life doesn't mean they're alive. It's like they don't even have their own sense of mind. They listen to me. They do everything I tell them to. Puppets. That's not useful. That's terrifying."

  There was a short pause. Enoch immediately regretted telling her the truth about his peculiarity. What if she thought he was a monster too? Worse than herself?

  "I don't think you're a monster."Her voice was small but he could hear it just fine.

  The words warmed the pit of his stomach, travelling down to his toes and up to his head then lingered in his lips.

  This girl wasn't a monster. She would never be a monster. She was beautiful and quiet. She wasn't a monster. But there was a monster living inside of her.

  "DINNER!"Miss Peregrine announced. Enoch looked down the hall. Had he been talking to her for that long already?

  "Go."Prism said.

  He knocked on the door to acknowledge her response. Heading downstairs.

  Everyone was already at the dinner table by the time he got down. They stared at him intently, only Claire had a smile on her face.

  "Hanging out with Prism, hmm?"Millard mocked.

  Enoch's face flushed red as he stared at Millard's floating hat. He was quiet before sitting down at the table. How did they find out? Had he tuned out the entire world just to speak to the girl behind the metal door. He sighed before beginning to eat.

"I just wanted to know, Miss Peregrine, if you'd be willing to..change Prism's door so I can see her."Enoch sounded, looking down at his plate.

  He glanced up, seeing Miss Peregrine smiling straight at him."That's interesting."She said, the smile still coating her lips.

  Olive huffed."Yeah. It's interesting alright. Why does he want to talk to a witch?"She mumbled. Olive wasn't a loud person. But she also wasn't a rude person.

  What was this sudden outburst of anger towards a girl she had never spoken to? Enoch deduced she was still upset about the incident that occurred when they first met Prism. He realized he never asked why she had done it. And she had never told him why.

  Enoch clenched the hand holding his fork, feeling it bend beneath his strength."Don't call her a witch."Enoch snarled.

  Emma scoffed."That witch's peculiarity isn't bending light and waves. It's giving people a heart wrenching reality that will haunt them every time they fall asleep. Horace has been having nonstop nightmares of us dying! And they're not all the same anymore!"

  The elder boy slammed his hands on the table, making the platters and silverware clatter and scream in fear of being murdered.

  "Her name is Prism! And she's not a witch. She will never be a witch. I don't care what any of you say, Prism is a kind girl. She cares about me. She's scared of herself. How can any of you be so heartless?"He roared.

  Enoch's appearance had changed from passive to brutally aggressive. His brown hair was unkempt from his yelling and jolts. A few strands hung in his eyes. The dark rings around his eyes were even more visible. His hands were shaking. His knuckles were chalk white. His teeth gritted, and his jaw was clenched.

  Miss Peregrine motioned for Enoch to sit. She placed her folded hands on the table curtly, pursing her lips at the immature jeers the children made."I will fulfill your wish, Enoch. But no more outbursts."She warned.

  Enoch nodded, running his hand through his hair. He had become so defensive of the girl he only spoke to a few times. But he felt obligated to do it, since she couldn't do it herself.

  "Tomorrow, Jacob Portman will be here. I need you to lead him to the loop."Miss Peregrine said, smiling lightly.

  And with that, Enoch left the table. His food left untouched. The table slightly dented where he slammed his fists.