Reunited Strangers to Lovers

||Chapter One||

The wind is strong, the rain pours hard, the air is heavy and cold. The ground is slick with mud as I stand up looking around confused as to how I ended up here. How did I end up here? Where am I even? Not even a minute ago I was sitting in Mr. Jefferson's classroom as he talked about...what was he talking about? I don't fully remember. Is this just a dream? It feels so real... Is that a lighthouse up on the hill? Maybe I can go up there and get a better view to see the area better. I'd feel safer up there too.

Something catches my eye on the way up; A torn banner. The lettering is badly faded, but I can just make out what it says. "Blackwell Academy 1986". 1986? But it's 2013! Did...did I somehow go back in time? To the past? Now this HAS to be a dream. I need to wake up, but I can't. Something keeps telling me to go to the lighthouse. Like I can't do anything until I get up there. Gotta keep moving, Max.

The moment I make it to the top and to the edge I am met with a horrendous sight; A massive tornado, larger than what I can believe ever to have been recorded in all the history of tornadoes, heading right towards the town below. Right towards Arcadia Bay. Holy shit...

A boat flies full speed right up where I am standing. I instinctively duck down and put my arms over my head, but nothing touches me. An unsettling loud sound above me prompts me to look up. The top of the lighthouse! "Whoa, no!" The top of it comes crashing down at me and-

My head jerks up with the shock of the moment and already something feels different. Whoa! What the fuck? I'm...back in class? That was so unbelievably surreal... It's okay though. That was just a dream, nothing more. I'm in class. I am safe.

I even looked out the window, half expecting to see a massive tornado hurling right for the school, but saw nothing out of the ordinary compared to when I first got to class to begin with. Good. Everything seems to be normal.

"... From light, to shadow; From color, to chiaroscuro. Now, can one of you give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition in black and white?" Mr. Jefferson's lecture continues, never once batting an eye in my direction. I guess he didn't even notice that I had fallen asleep in his class. That or maybe he just doesn't care that I did. I'm lucky either way.

Victoria raises her hand to answer his question. Of course, she knows the answer. She knows everything it seems. She acts like she's better than everyone else though, I've even overheard her talking about how she may as well be teaching the class since she knows all the material. It's obvious she only bothered to dedicate herself to memorizing the textbook just to impress Mr. Jefferson. He doesn't seem phased by her ambition to grab his attention though, thank goodness. It would suck if we had a creepy teacher that messes with students for his own satisfaction.

"And quite frankly, I think that's bullshit. Shh, shh, shh. Keep that to yourselves. Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation. Any one of you could also do that to me. However, that would be too obvious, agreed? It would take away from any subtle art you wanted to craft with the image that you hoped would achieve your goals." Mr. Jefferson sure has a way with words. I think that's what makes him such an inspiration to everyone as a photographer though. That's why he's also my favorite teacher.

That brings me back to what he was talking about before I ended up falling asleep. The "Everyday Heroes Contest". That's basically our complete project to take up as our final grade. I haven't entered my photo though. I didn't think it was that bad of a picture at first, but the more I look at it the more I doubt myself.

Nobody's going to like this. It's a stupid picture of me standing in front of my wall in my dorm covered with an entire collection of photos I've taken throughout my time back so far. I can hear the whole class laughing at me now, especially Victoria. I bet hers is something aesthetic and gorgeous. She'll win the contest anyway, so why should I bother entering my photo? I think I'd rather die than to suffer trying to live through that level of embarrassment. And then my pencil pouch too. I think it's time I upgrade to something from the twenty-first century, but I like it old school, so I guess it's cool, right? Oof, but my camera. This old thing has been through the ringer. I love it too much to get a new one though. Besides, all the newer cameras of today are way too overrated. At least mine doesn't require a bunch of technology to get a photo. Speaking of, I haven't reached my daily quota of selfies today. I should take one now; Nobody's going to notice me anyway.