A/N
This is edited from the original! 2015 post
So I've had to change up the feelings here, after my year away from this story I've gave it a once over, then decided the angle I want to take feels better with an angry Max. I'll be re writing the second chapter (Chloe's) and posting it again within a week, with the changes. The third chapter is already half written. Hopefully people are still up for giving this a chance and can accept the changes I've made. Innocent Max just didn't work.
I'm gutted this got left lying around when I was once so invested, life literally body blocked me and I had no chance at writing.
Any mistakes are because I'm stupid and I've missed them from checks, please read with that in mind ;)
My name is Maxine Caulfield.
Maxine…have you heard a worse name? I haven't. So it's always Max, never Maxine. Right now I'm trying not to regret my latest life decision, one I made easily sure, however right now it feels like the hardest thing I've ever done. I find it odd when you remember something a certain way, but when faced with that something after a long time (like 4 years long time), you realise it actually looks and feels totally different. Same place, different time.
That's all I could think about as I walked the streets of Arcadia Bay again after so long. I honestly never thought I would be back here, things have changed so much, and I have changed so much. If I'm being honest I'm not even sure those changes were for the better right now. Photography is still my thing, it's the only part of me that makes me feel like I'm still young and normal, seeing the world in a better light. It's the only thing that hasn't changed.
Once upon a time I was shy and reserved, back then though I had no reason to be loud, no reason to stand out. My best friend did that for me, I had no problem living in the slip stream of her powerhouse attitude and style. Oh, how things change. Going back 4 years ago, my parents made the decision to move away to Seattle, I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. At the time it was the worst moment of my life, it felt like my entire world had just come crashing down around me. I'd be taken away from my life, literally, my best friend was my life. I lived through her and I loved everything moment of it. Me and her, we were inseparable, we were complete opposites I know, but neither of us cared. If she didn't care, then I wouldn't.
Whenever I was too scared to do anything or too shy to try something new, she would be my rock, she would convince me everything would be okay, that everything would work out in the end, even if things went wrong. Shit hardly ever panned out how she hoped, whatever we did we nearly always got caught doing it and yet I would still get convinced to try the next crazy scheme, time and time again.
Until that day, that horrible day they told me we were moving. I still can't believe their timing, I had just spent the last 2 days consoling my heart broken best friend after her father died. I know right? Parent of the year award goes to? My best friend is going through the worst time of her life, I'm the only one she will talk to, the only one she will see. That's obviously the perfect time to FUCKING MOVE. Okay, so safe to say I have some lingering rage on the matter would be an understatement, I'm not joking when I say my whole life changed that week.
It burns me up inside when I think about when I told her, telling her my parents were taking me away, telling her they won't change their minds, that I have to go. Now I look back on it, I could understand why she hated me, regardless of it being my parents choice to make, she was broken and her only hope of being put back together was leaving forever. She screamed at me, even hit me. I tried to tell her I would stay in touch, I tried to tell her I still loved her and that I would always be there for her. It wasn't enough. As far as she was concerned if I left her, it was for good. I was to never dream of speaking to her again. I didn't understand, I'd done nothing wrong…but I was young, childish and naïve back then. Within the next two days we packed our things and left for Seattle, ready for my dads new job. I tried to get her to see me, talk to me, but even as we drove away from her house for the very last time, I didn't hear a word from her.
After that things became a blur, who knew at the age of 14 you could become that uninterested in anything, the moment I was without her, I was without life. It was then I realised how I truly felt about her, the feeling of being in love however was lost on the feeling of emptiness that followed. Too little too late Max, she was gone. I left her, she wasn't replying to my texts, emails or letters. No matter how many, or what I wrote. My mental state began it's decline, things really started getting bad. Then one day I met a young man called Andrew, about 6 months after the move. We had the pleasure of meeting one day at the local gallery, got talking about photography and the rest was history, don't get me wrong, 80% of me was still dead inside but for the first time in a long time I smiled. I even laughed and I had a tiny bit of fun. He was the only person I could talk to about it all, I never spoke to my parents about how I felt, not after what they did, we were never close again. Openly blaming them for the lack of contact from Chloe.
So, Andrew became my rock. A rock that didn't mind when I ignored him, got randomly angry, screaming at him or crying without explaining why. For 3 years that worked for me, he had the brains not to suggest trying to contact her again, knowing all I would get is silence in return. In my mind, we were done, anytime I considered talking to her I would hear her screaming 'YOUR DEAD TO ME' and the rage would kick in. How much could she possible care if she's left me alone all this time? She couldn't possibly have loved me.
You might wonder how my parents would let all this happen, let me hit rock bottom before I'd even got started in life, safe to say, I became a pro at lying through my teeth. As far I was concerned they knew nothing about me, they didn't know what I loved, or they never would have ripped my life in two. Nope, Andrew was the only one who knew anything, I even told him about my true feelings for her. I was honestly quite amazed he never wanted more from me, maybe he did and never said anything? Knew it would be a waste of time, I'll never know.
Which brings me to year 4, things got complicated yet again, Andrew hit 18 and was heading to college, in New York. I didn't cry and I don't think he was surprised, I feel bad for not feeling bad but it felt like karma had finally come to serve it's justice. I didn't take it personally. It only took a few days for the darkness to return once he was gone, that little bit of me still alive slowly started being engulfed by my own self-pity. By this point I had convinced myself this feeling was punishment for letting her engulf my soul, for being a fool and thinking she loved me and calling her would be unfair and selfish, she does not want to hear from me.
I let the darkness come, I slipped into a void, that led me to a roof and the realisation of my failure. Eighteen years old and done with life, I took responsibility for my mistakes and stepped over into acceptance. The end. Or so I thought. As I fell, things slowed, I reflected on the good times before these years. I thought back to that amazing girl and her stella view on life, to her ability to make me happy with just her company, the tingle in my bones and body when we tussled around her room, when she dared me to kiss her that one time, how much courage it took me to gently place my young lips on hers. Then to the sudden anger I felt when I realised she really wasn't going to speak to me again. It was that exact moment, that exact memory, which caused everything to stop.
I stopped falling, physically stopped. For a moment I was just immobilized mid-air, until all of a sudden I was stood back on the roof. First I thought I had managed to day dream the whole thing and I had used her as a way to talk myself out of going through with it, but I knew really, I had just rewound time. Me. I REWOUND MOTHER FUCKIN' TIME. All because of her, that selfish heart stealing bitch. I took it as a sign, I wasn't finished with life yet. There is still something I need to know.
That day everything changed, that day I became stronger and more determined than ever before. That day I told myself I was going home, I was going to get my life back. The first chance I got I was going to transfer to Arcadia Bays own Blackwell Academy. Four months wasn't a long time to wait after 4 years. It was easy to convince my parents to let me go, the school had a great photography program and lets face it, they couldn't stop me. I was a force of nature now. I felt like nothing could stop me. I started testing my power with little things, I'd spill a drink and then 30 reverse seconds later…one full cup of joe. Then I got braver, bolder, I walked right up to the first asshole in school and threw my fist right into his ribs and then took it back, having the sweet memory of his pain but not one concequence of the action.
I ruled my life now. This power, whatever reason it was gifted to me, it gave me the confidence I never had to return home, to get answers once and for all. I took this opportunity and made the most of it. Well, up until now, when I was actually in Arcadia Bay, actually on this street and actually stood in front of her front door. Four years and some super powers later. Here I am, stood like the coward I actually am NOT knocking on this damn door. I didn't necessarily want to just rock up to her stupid door and risk getting caught of guard. I wanted things on my own turf. Just have to think back Max, these last 4 years, they have been hell. I can't change how things went down but I sure as shit can change my future, if there's one thing I'm sure of it's that I won't be left wondering why anymore.
I can do this. Chloe, might not even be here.
Just Knock.
tbc
