11th October, 2013

The twister grew closer to the town by the minute. My hairs stood on end - the electricity in the air was unmissable. The pouring rain and deafening thunder came together as one to be the perfect soundtrack for a disaster. I gripped the photo of the butterfly, and looked up to meet Chloe's eyes. They were puffed up from crying.

'Max... it's time.'

I looked at the floor, and turned away. For the last time, I glanced down at the photo... and ripped it in half. Without Chloe, I would be nothing more than half of myself.

'Not anymore,' I replied, as the intense winds took away the pieces of the picture. I stood and watched the lightning strike the bay as the hurricane crawled forward.

'Max...' I heard Chloe say behind me, 'I'll always be with you.' She was by my side now.

'Forever,' I said. We stood there for a brief moment. Without thinking about it, my hand drifted towards Chloe's, and I took it. She squeezed my hand, comforting me. I couldn't watch when the whirlwind of destruction finally reached the town; I buried my face in Chloe's shoulder. Her clothes were wet through thanks to the storm, but I didn't care. She put her arm around me, and I felt stronger. For the first time in the week, I felt safe. It was all over now.

Chloe and I stayed together until the storm subsided. It seemed to stop as it moved inland, thank God - I did not want to see any more destruction. We walked in silence down the hill, taking care not to trip over the copious amounts of debris and fallen trees. Every couple of minutes, I swear I could see the doe that had guided me in my first nightmare, but before I could really see anything, she was gone. In the grand scheme of things, my safari experience wasn't important. I just wanted to get out of Arcadia Bay for good - there was nothing left except death.

We came to the bottom of the hill, at the beach. Chloe's truck was parked nearby.

'Wanna go for a walk? One last walk in Arcadia...' Chloe said, with no shortage of gloom.

'Can we just get out of here please?' I was so tired.

'Of course, Max,' Chloe said as she unlocked her truck. Lucky it was parked here, otherwise we'd have had no way out other than our own feet.

In two agonisingly long minutes, we were on the road. I stared out of the window towards the sea, as I felt Chloe's gentle touch on my arm. I turned around and looked at her, and smiled. She was the only thing that could have made me smile then. Surprisingly, there were a few buildings still standing - even the diner. We started to slow down as we drove past it. I could tell Chloe wanted to stop and check it out. She stopped the car abruptly.

'I'm sorry Max, but I have to do this,' Chloe told me solemnly.

'Not alone you don't,' I said, opening the door of the truck. She smiled, opening her own door. We stepped out together, and walked back, towards the diner. The ground was still wet, but the sun shone, reflecting in puddles that dotted the damaged road. We came to the door of the diner, and my heart fell as I saw Frank's RV crushed beneath the ruins of a building. Tears began to fall as I remembered how the fire blossomed. I couldn't tell Chloe myself - once again, I was too afraid of hurting her, like I had been the entire week. Too afraid of losing her, like I was at the lighthouse. The memory of her passionate, heartfelt speech about how everyone else deserved to live more than she did would stay with me forever. I turned around so Chloe didn't have to see me cry. Which is when I noticed it. The sand bag I used to prevent the diner from blowing up wasn't there. In its place was a clump of brown fur. Sure, it could have been blown away by the storm, but I had to hold onto this one last hope. Ready to face the truth, I turned around, and walked to Chloe's side.

'I'm ready now,' she declared, walking forward. The girl inhaled deeply, and pushed open the door, walking through. I followed her. Lying down under a table was the mutt, Pompidou. Sitting at the same table was Frank Bowers, wearing his signature leather jacket. His blond hair was greasy. He looked really spaced out, just gazing at us with open brown eyes. In his hand he held a meth pipe, which he put down gently when he saw us.

'Chloe,' he whispered. He looked at me and nodded slightly, a gesture which I returned. Pompidou even made his way over, brushing his head against my leg, 'There was nothing we could do...'

'What are you talking about Frank? What the fuck are you talking about!?' Chloe's outburst told me all I needed to know about what she knew. The thought had entered my mind, but like a lot of other things right now, I didn't want to face it. Chloe took my hand and stormed off into the back of the diner, dragging me with her. She immediately dropped to the floor on her knees - crying her eyes out. My eyes drifted from the brown-stained shoes, up motionless legs only to reach a head that was covered with a towel - also stained with blood. Chloe bawled at the sight of her mother, lifeless on the floor. I could do nothing but lament alongside her. Joyce was like a second mother to me; it was only three days ago that I had to relive letting William die, and now I had killed Joyce too?

A familiar voice spoke my name. I took my hands away from my face and saw Warren kneeling beside me.

'There's nothing we can do for her, Max... I'm so sorry,' he said quietly. I stared at him through the tears. I remembered how he had invited me to the drive in and I declined: how I kissed him (thank God he didn't know that) before I jumped back in time using his photo. He must have been going through hell worrying about Brooke. Like how Chloe was going through it now, only days after discovering she had lost Rachel. I crawled over to Chloe, and cradled her in my arms. Again, I was having flashbacks. The first time I saw her die in the bathrooms and didn't even recognise her voice. When she accidentally shot herself in the junkyard. Again, when she was shot by Jefferson, right next to Rachel's body. When I jumped back to Jefferson's class, anxious to save the peculiar punk rock girl in the bathroom.

After a few minutes, the crying subsided. Warren just sat on a counter, dejectedly looking at his phone, trying to ignore the two hysterical girls in his midst. But it was nice he hadn't just left us.

'Max, let's get the fuck out of this shithole. I'm fucking done,' Chloe whimpered. I stood up, and offered her my hand. She took it, and we left the diner. I took out the envelope marked 'HANDICAPPED FUND' and placed it in front of Frank. There was the money we owed, and even if he was a bit of an asshole, he would definitely need the $5000. So at least my conscience was a little clearer.

I didn't know what to say. That was her own mother who Chloe had seen, and she wouldn't even stay with her? Maybe it was too painful? No way to know, and I was not about to ask. So we got back in the truck, and left Arcadia Bay.