The place that provided the worst memory. Middle School. Turning the key in the ignition of my sister's car I reverse out of my driveway and make my way back to my middle school. Today was a day that I'd take off to actually try and get work done.
I pull up in front of the school, it was obviously packed inside so I just wondered around outside. Admiring the new buildings that had been added since my last time being here.
Grabbing my camera out of its case, I walk around to the field in an attempt to locate where he first started chasing me. I had grown so used to speaking on the matter that now it was nothing but a memory. The field wasn't too large so I made it to the other side quickly. There I spotted it.
The table where he and I first met, the table where he first threatened me and the table where he began bullying me.
"y/n?" a confused voice says behind me, I spin around to see him. My mind went blank. Why would this fucker be here.
"what the fuck do you want Clay." i clear my throat "Photography." he says vaguely, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
His cheek had seemed to clear up a little bit, the bruising still being quite obvious. In his hands he held his camera, "stop fucking staring like you don't know why im here." my voice became agitated quickly by his stupid fucking eyes.
I raise my camera, taking off the cap and zooming in specifically to the table that started it all. "why did you choose this place?" was he being sincere? now? "look Clay, you know why. I'm here for the fucking photo and I'm leaving." I say coldly and thats exactly what I did.
My finger gently pressed the button causing my camera to go off, I check the photo hoping I didn't have to be there any longer than I already was. Unfortunately, I ended up taking seven more photos before I left.
I place the camera back in its case swiftly before walking past him, not even making the smallest bit of eye contact because he didn't deserve it.
I arrive back home, making my way back to my room with my camera and spare SD card in hand. Sitting at my desk placing my camera down and putting my SD card in its designated slot. Time to write a backstory for them I guess.
Leaning back in my chair, thinking of how to start it off. My fingers touch the keyboard skimming across the letters and numbers.
this is where i was scared for my life... no, thats not even like something i'd write.
This place holds the worst memories for me because it was the first place I felt genuinely concerned for my safety. In the midst of a chase from a boy with a sharp object, I ran around this table three times, feeling like I would never see another day. The fear I felt was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
Was that it? No, it had to be more words. More words. My brain continued to think back to that time, how I felt, how it affected me.
The fear of being killed by a fellow class member, the fear of not returning home that day. The possibility that this might be my last memory on earth. That what I remembered. And It all started at this table.
Was I impressed by what I had just typed... no. It was the only thing I could come up with.
I mean I dont know why I found it so hard to describe my thoughts, i was basically trauma dumping is why. But then it was just me shitting on Clay for ruining the first years on being a teenager for me
Eventually I gave up on trying to type a description of the photo, I hadn't even edited it yet so why was I so worried about writing the description.
My phone buzzes and it was the devil himself.
Clayton The Cunt
im not failing this because of your lack of communication skills.
read 1:02pm
dont be fucking leaving me on seen you bitch.
read 1:05pm
meet me at the library at 4 we need to discuss this shit.
read 1:11pm
Honestly, I had no idea why I still held onto his number after all this time. I remember he gave it to me two years ago for no specific reason other than because he could.
I was seriously contemplating meeting him at the library but then I read his first message. failing. I had never failed a project before, especially not a photography project. So in a way, I understood where he was coming from but not because I cared about him failing, because I cared about my own ass.
Minutes passed, 2pm hit, then 3pm hit and it was almost 4pm. Fuck it.
My footsteps echoed once more, entering the library full of people yet every single person was either dead silent or whispering amongst their friends. The library was huge so I didn't know where Clay was let alone if he was even here.
Looking down each book isle in prayer of finding someone or something familiar. I started to stress out.
My phone buzzed once more
Clayton the Cunt
im at the back left corner with the computer
read 4:03pm
Right. Just walk to the back left. My breathing became shaky very fast, noticing all the people from my photography class were also in here despite school finishing a little while ago.
"Here you bitch" a voice said quite loudly and I can already tell its him, everyone silences him with their hushes and I slightly giggle at the fact he just made half of the library hate him by just saying three words.
Making my way over to him. I grab a seat and sit on the opposite side of the table, his eyes meet mine and he immediately sighs waving his hand at me to come closer "i'd rather go back to that school and experience it all over again." i whisper and he huffs, getting up and moving closer to me.
He pulls out his laptop and shows me his photos "why did you even take photos there?" I ask him, I had to give it to him for someone who hated photography he was fucking good at it. "because its apart of the project..?" he turns to me confused "yeah but like you have a good memory there?" I ask him and he shakes his head "it was the only place i could think of that gave me a bad memory, at the moment anyway. whats it to you anyway?" he rolls his eyes showing me his progress with his photos .
"Well given that you made my life a living hell there, I'd think that you'd have gained a great memory from there." I say in a sarcastic manner, causing a laugh to escape from his lips.
He continued showing me his work, "did you manage to get a description for your photos?" he asks, I hadn't been paying attention to him. My eyes were glued to the screen of my phone, ignoring every word coming out of his mouth "hello?" he says, snatching my phone from my hands and tossing it somewhere in the library causing a sort of loud thud "what the fuck" I yell and I immediately get hushed. A fucking library.
YOU ARE READING
cameras and memories | dream
Fanfictioni guess photography class wasn't the worst thing to happen to us. (highschool au)
