It's been years. Nearly a decade since it began. It all started with a dream. And it will all end with a dream.
A storm of rain and wind. Lighting and thunder. Of everything being torn away and destroyed. And you stood there, ontop of the high cliff overarching the town that had become your home.
You watched as the massive tornado slowly moved towards Arcadia Bay.
You weren't alone either.
You could never see who was with you, but you knew they were there. Watching everything with you.
The lighthouse was supposed to grant you some kind of solitude. But, it didn't.
And the dream would always end the same way.
With a boat flying through the wind, hitting the lighthouse.
You would always wake up before it could fall.
You wished you could always wake up before everything fell.
Your eyes shot open and you inhaled quickly. You lifted your head and looked around before you realized you were back to reality. In your classroom back at Blackwell.
You slowly sat up and looked around the room. Right. You were in your art class right now. You rubbed your head and groaned.
Mr. Tewers: Mr. Price, good to see you finally decided to join us. How was your trip to snoozevile?
You looked up to the front of your class where your teacher was looking at you. Everyone else was working on their projects but the teacher was now focusing on you.
Y/N: Sorry. I just...I didn't get much sleep last night.
Mr. Tewers: Well, you need to work on that. My class is for working, not sleeping.
You gave a half-hearted apology and looked back at your project. You were already in the painting phase of it, but you honestly couldn't find it in yourself to actually feel like it was a good piece.
It was of an eye that was wide open. But, like with all of your works, it was drawn with sharp lines and was very, minimal.
The project was to create something that would tell the world who you were.
But what did this say?
You just shook your head and looked at your paint pallet. What color should you use for the eye?
Maybe a red?
Or a blue?
Maybe neither of those.
Your phone suddenly went off and you looked up to see if your teacher was looking. You then slid your phone out of your pocket and looked at it.
Your cousin was texting you, again. You sent back a quick response and immediately got one back.
Terror: I'll stop bi after bidness with prince bitch-a-lot
You just shook your head and locked your phone. You slid it back into your pocket and looked at the colors.
You debated it before you reached down and picked up your brush.
How long were you asleep for? It couldn't have been that long. Class was still going so maybe no more than a few minutes.
You were going to use blue. Since you associated it with someone you held dear. Then, maybe you'll use yellow.
Now that you were awake and trying, you found yourself actually coming up with ideas. But, none of them felt like very good ones.
YOU ARE READING
Life Is Strange (Male Reader)
Ficción GeneralBook 1 of Life Is Strange Y/N is a student at Blackwell Academy under a scholarship. However, following the disappearance of his best friend Rachel Amber, he questions what he wants to do with his future, and ponders his past. One day, he finds hims...