Life is Gone: Eyes of the Storm
Chapter One: The Bathroom
"Five years ago, my father died and my best friend moved away and never talked to me again. At first I was angry, pissed off that she would just leave me in my time of need. Then I was worried. It wasn't like her to just abandon me like that. Now I just don't care."
She could smell the rain. Before she could hear it or even see it, Max could smell the rain in the air. But this wasn't the nice refreshing smell of rain in the spring, this was the smell of mud and wet fur, a winter storm.
She couldn't hear anything. Or anything meaningful at least. The sound of the storm howling around her blocked out anything meaningful that may have been hidden on the wind. Every now and again, she would hear the mighty clap of thunder, breaking through the high-pitched monotony of the wind.
Max opened her eyes. She was standing at the base of a forest trail, in the middle of a horrendous storm. All around her the wind bellowed, tossing around discarded trash and woodland debris like a child's playthings. Ice cold rain ran down the back of her neck and into her shirt, the wind catching the trails and causing shivers to run down her spine.
A spectral doe caught Max's eye. It stared directly into her eyes, as if it were gazing into her soul, judging her worth. Having apparently come to a decision, the doe gestured with its head to the path leading up the hill, before turning back to Max and watching her, waiting to see how she'd react.
"Do you want me to follow you?" Max asked the doe. It nodded its ghostly head, then turned around and trotted into the forest until it vanished into the rain.
Not knowing what else to do, Max followed the doe, climbing up the old dirt path, passing a large signboard, whose cracked lettering declared the area as the Arcadia Bay lighthouse park.
Entering the treeline, Max took a second of reprieve from the wind and rain, taking advantage of the shelter. Pushing forward once more, Max continued following the path up the hill. As she did, Max marvelled at how still the forest seemed in comparison to just 5 metres outside the treeline. She could see the empty beer bottles that had hidden behind tree roots signposts, the occasional animal hiding from the weather in a hollow tree.
Pushing forward, Max found herself at the edge of the forest. Steeling herself to go back out into the storm, Max stepped out of the treeline and into the clearing. The first thing she noticed was the lack of the storm. The clearing was almost completely calm and dry. The next thing she noticed was the return of the doe.
"Well I'm here, what did you want to show me?" Max asked the doe, reflecting on how strange it was talking to a doe.
The doe ignored her and continued further into the clearing. Max followed, rounding a corner and coming face to face with a lighthouse, built on the Cliffside, overlooking the bay, where the storm raged on.
"There's the storm" Max said to no one in particular, "but why isn't it reaching here?"
She turned to the doe, hoping it might provide some kind of answer, but as always it turned around and continued walking, confident that Max had caught up.
Max followed as the doe walked up to the entrance to the lighthouse.
"Is this what you wanted to show me? The lighthouse?"
The doe, yet again refused to answer, instead walking through the closed door, disappearing into the lighthouse.
"Well how am I supposed to follow you in there?" She asked the space where the doe once stood, after finding the door locked.
Not sure what else to do, Max walked around the base of the lighthouse, in case there was another entrance on the other side. Instead of a door, however, she found a tornado.
A giant tornado, heading straight across the bay, towards the town. Somehow though, this tornado didn't seem normal, there was something off about it. Max was going to ignore it until she realised what it was. There seemed to be the shapes of faces trying to form in the wind, almost like the tornado wanted to give itself a human body, but couldn't quite form a face, let alone a body.
Max wasn't quite sure why she tried to caress the side of the faces in the tornado. Maybe she thought she could help it calm down, maybe regain control of itself. The question of why never really entered her mind as she stepped towards it, reaching out to comfort it.
Max took a step forward, and everything went black.
"…film, little pieces of time…"
Max heard Mr Jefferson lecturing as the world came back into focus around her. It felt like it had been an eternity since Max had entered the class and heard the start of the lecture, and she desperately tried to remember how it had started. She wasn't sure what to call it, but the dream-like state she had been in had made it hard to recall the events of earlier in the class.
Max wasn't sure what to make of the dream. It didn't feel like a regular dream, and it certainly hadn't felt like she was asleep. It was somewhat like the couple of hallucinations she'd had in the past year or so, but it made more sense than any of them had.
Deciding that dwelling on the dream wouldn't get her anywhere, Max tried to focus on Jefferson's lecture, but her attention kept drifting off. "…from light to shadow…" The sound Stella's pen made as it hit the floor. "…from colour to chiaroscuro…" A paper ball flying across the classroom. Victoria's phone vibrating on the table. "…who perfectly captured the condition of the…".
Max figured it must just be a side effect of her lack of sleep, having been kept up by nightmares most of last night. The more she thought it, the more likely it seemed. She was probably just drifting off and having strange dreams.
Giving up on listening to the lecture, Max let her attention wander. Her blue polaroid she swiped from a second-hand store several months ago. She faintly remembered seeing it and thinking that photography could be something nice to fill her time. It ended up taking up much of her life since then, to the point where she returned to Arcadia Bay - something she had sworn never to do – just to take the course she was in now.
Figuring she had focused on her camera for long enough that it would be rude not to, Max decided to take a photo. Not sure what else to photograph, Max turned the camera on herself.
Shit - clearly, she hadn't been paying enough attention to Jefferson, as it seemed she had taken the photo right in the middle of a pause in his lecture, based on the way the entire class turned to look at her.
"Could you repeat that please, Mr Jefferson?"
"Apparently not, can anybody else tell me the name of the process that gave birth to self-portraits?"
Apparently, Victoria could, as she raised her hand as soon as she could without cutting him off.
"Lois Daguerre was a French painter who created 'daguerreotypes', a process that gave portraits a sharp, reflective style, like a mirror." Victoria then turned to Max, "now you're like totally stuck in the Retro Zone. Sad face."
Too tired to deal with Victoria's shit today, Max waited for Mr Jefferson to confirm her answer before raising her hand and focusing on it, releasing her god-like powers upon the world.
The clock ticked backwards and lips moved in unnatural ways as time reversed approximately half a minute. Max smirked a little, amused by the idea that she was using the immense powers of time travel to show up another student in class.
Lowering her hand once more, Max allowed time to flow normally once more, reappearing right after Mr Jefferson asked her a question.
"The 'daguerreotype' was a process created by French painter Lois Daguerre, which gave portraits a sharp, reflective surface, like a mirror".
Jefferson raised an eyebrow, surprised that Max had been paying enough attention to answer his question. Normally, Max would have trouble focusing, and had trouble retaining a lot of his lectures.
"Clearly Max knows her stuff", Mr Jefferson said, recovering from his surprise. "Either way –".
He was cut off from lecturing again when the bell rang. As the students streamed out of the class, he made a last-minute plea for students to enter some photography competition Max didn't really care about. Catching Kate's eye as she packed up her things, Max walked over to her desk.
"Hey Kate", she started, "how are you holding up?"
"Oh, hey Max," Kate replied, "I've been alright I guess." Max could tell Kate wasn't being honest. She had bags under her eyes, chewed finger nails, and her normally immaculate bun was falling apart. She looked like shit. She reminded Max of herself, if Max was being honest with herself.
"Look Kate, I know this has been hard on you. Can you meet me for tea later today? I have something I want to tell you, something personal."
"Sure thing Max" Kate replied. She didn't sound much different to earlier, but she looked a little more awake knowing that Max wanted to have tea.
"I want you to know you're not alone Kate," Max finished, "I'm here for you, if you need anything, anything at all, come to me and I'll be there for you."
"Thanks Max," Kate said, standing up. "I'll see you later today then." With that, Kate grabbed her bag and headed out to her next class.
Taking a couple steps over, Max bent down and picked up the paper ball Taylor had thrown at Kate earlier. She didn't even open to read it, she didn't need to, just the thought of what would be in it made her squeeze it like a stress ball. Realising she was working herself up unnecessarily, Max calmed herself as best she could and dropped the ball in the rubbish bin by the classroom door.
Max was going to continue out the door when she heard Mr Jefferson call her over. Sighing, she turned around and waked over to where he and Victoria were discussing her submission for the Everyday Heroes contest that he had been pushing the class to enter.
"Yes, Mr Jefferson?" Max asked him, hoping this would be over quickly so she could go and catch up on last night's sleep, or at least try and wake herself up before she met up with Kate.
"I wanted to talk to you about class today. I appreciate that you know the material, and that it can be easy to drift off and lose focus because of it, but when you take photos, especially with a polaroid camera like yours, you distract the other students and can interfere with their learning. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"
Max took a breath and tried her hardest to look like she cared as much as she probably should. "I'm sorry Mr Jefferson, it won't happen again. Can I go now?" She desperately hoped he was done so she could go wash her face to wake herself up before she went to see Kate.
"One last thing Max" he replied. "How is your submission for the everyday hero's contest going? You have great potential, and it would be a shame to waste it." He seemed to genuinely want her to enter, Max noticed, not just a teacher trying to get a kid to do their work.
"I haven't done it." Max wasn't going to tell him, but she had absolutely no intention of entering the contest. Any chance at fame or virality was something to be avoided in her eyes.
"Then get on it, Max. You have a gift and you should share it with the world." He sighed. "Okay Max, I won't keep you any longer. Just keep it in mind, alright?"
Glad he was finally letting her go, Max gave a half-hearted nod before she darted out the door and into the hallway. Giving Kate, who must have left class while she was talking to Mr Jefferson and was now standing at her locker, a smile as she passed, Max walked down to the bathroom ignoring the rest of the students.
Max was about to opening the bathroom door when she heard a distinctly recognisable crack and an accompanying scream. She felt horrible memories of her own past coming forward, but desperately tried to push them aside as she rewound time, hoping she could stop whatever was happening in the bathroom without getting shot herself.
Max steeled her nerves and stepped into the bathroom. She was glad to find it empty, meaning she had been right to give herself a few minutes of gap time before anyone was shot. Taking advantage of her extra time, Max tried to plan out what she could do. She could pull the fire alarm, which would hopefully stop the meeting. However, it could also just move the meeting to who knows where, which would stop her being able to intervene if she needed to. Her hand lingered over to her bag, where her own weapon lay concealed. She could intervene directly, attacking the attacker. If she had the element of surprise it would probably work, and if she got a clean shot they wouldn't be able to react and attack her back.
Deciding on her retaliation strategy, Max felt dirty. She didn't like using her gun, she had done it before and the results would haunt her for the rest of her life. Sighing, she walked over to the sink and washed her face, wondering if she was making the right choice. There was no way she could be, was there?
Max caught a flicker of blue in her peripheral vision. Looking over, she saw a beautiful blue butterfly, unlike any she had seen before, flitter down through a window and land on a bucket in the corner of the room, behind the last stall. Checking that she still had time before anyone was due to be shot on her phone, Max stepped closer to the butterfly. She saw an opportunity. She could take a photo and submit it to Mr Jefferson as her contest entry. The photo would be good enough to satisfy him, but its poor fitting to the entry criteria would hopefully stop her from winning.
Carefully, so not to startle the butterfly and ruin her shot, Max pulled out her blue polaroid and quickly snapped a shot. Shaking off the photo to dry the development agent, Max put her camera away, just in time to not drop it when she heard the door open, then slam shut again. Nathan Prescott – the local rich kid – walked into the bathroom, shaking and muttering to himself.
Max put her photo away as she scrambled to figure out what she was going to do. She definitely didn't want to shoot anyone - not again - but she couldn't see any other way to go about it.
A glint out the corner of her eye caught her attention. There was a hammer lying underneath a janitor's cart, right next to the bucket the butterfly had landed on. It was perfect. Hard enough to knock some out, or at least distract them, but not so dangerous as to guarantee death. Lying down, Max reached her arm under the cart and grabbed the hammer, giving it a couple of practice swings to make sure she wouldn't mess it up in the moment.
The door closed for a second time, letting a blue-haired punk girl into the bathroom. She looked faintly familiar to Max, but in the heat of the moment she couldn't place where she'd seen the other girl before.
Max listened intently as the two argued, trying to gauge who was about to shoot the other. Risking a glance around the stall wall, Max saw that Nathan had the blue-haired girl trapped in the corner. Taking that as all the evidence she needed, she dashed out from her hiding place, intending on striking Nathan on the head as hard as possible. Her arm was raised above her head when she heard the crinkle of a wrapper underfoot.
"What the fuck was that". Evidently Nathan had heard it as well, because he turned around, going to aim the gun at Max. His eyes darted up to see Max pull down on the hammer to strike him.
"No you don't bitch!" Nathan pulled the trigger as the hammer hit him. The bullet went flying off its intended course, only grazing Max's arm and imbedding itself in a wall.
"Fuck" Max winced, grabbing her arm. That wasn't how that was meant to go. Nathan seeing her was probably one of the wore things that could happen, leaving him to tell others about what she did. Not giving the girl a chance to figure out what just happened, Max raised her arm and rewound, being careful to avoid the wrapper this time so he wouldn't hear her.
Watching the world reverse around her, Max wished, not for the first time, that her injuries would be affected by her powers and disappear with the flow of time. Max lowered her arm, allowing the world to fall back into time.
Taking advantage of the element of surprise, Max quickly raised the hammer above her head and brought it down as hard as she could on the top of Nathan's head. She watched in morbid fascination as his body slumped to the floor, before snapping out of it and quickly checking his breathing – making sure she hadn't killed him by mistake.
Relieved that he was still breathing, Max grabbed his gun and unloaded it before putting it in her bag. Curious, she glanced over to the girl she had saved. The blue-haired girl was watching, seemingly still in shock about what happened. Getting back to the task at hand, Max quickly checked through Nathan's pockets for valuables before starting to drag him behind the stall she had been hiding behind.
"Are you going to help or what?" Max asked the blue-haired girl as she dragged Nathan along the tiled floor. Max didn't really mind that the girl wasn't helping her drag Nathan's body, but the silence was getting unnerving.
"You… you killed him…" The blue-haired girl stuttered.
Looking back up at the girl, Max was going to reassure her that Nathan was, in fact, still alive and merely knocked out, but cut herself off when she realised just who was standing before her.
"Chloe…"