A Pile Of Polaroids (Brallon)

3: When The Lights Begin To Fade...

As Brendon followed the boys, he eyed his surroundings. If he hadn't of paid too much attention, this street could of easily been from his time. (It really was, when Brendon realized they were reaching the corner of Fourth and Freemont, just thrown back in time almost forty years.) It wasn't until you looked at the details of merchandize, the styles of clothing the store models presented, or the overall feeling. This place felt so much safer than the area it was in Brendon's day and age.

Brendon wouldn't of dared to walk down this street at night with any group under five people, but Dallon and Patrick's relaxed strides put Brendon at ease. Times must of been really different...

But how had the times gotten different? Brendon was from 2016, how did he end up in 1979? This just wasn't possible... It had to be in his head, right?

"Où allons-nous?" Patrick inquired as Dallon spun on the corner street sign's post.

"Where we are going is somewhere neat." Dallon grinned, glancing in both directions before motioning for the shorter boys to follow him across the street. "Allons-y! Come on!"

The French boy followed Dallon's lead, looking in both directions of the empty street before rushing across. He held his camera closely to keep it from bouncing against his chest.

Brendon was hesitant, but he didn't want to be alone either. He mimicked the other boys, earning a nod of approval from Dallon before the taller boy continued on his path.

Said path stayed on the paved sidewalk for another few minutes, before the three boys came upon some growingly thick trees. The tree stopped just on the edge of it, gazing up at the tops of the branches.

"I thought the forrest was another half a mile out..." Brendon muttered as he looked at the trees in wonder.

"Eventually, if the city gets its way." Dallon sighed, "They want to pave over it to make more houses..."

"Quelle honte ... Il est beau." Patrick frowned, raising his camera to his eye before snapping a photo. The small, square photo slid out soon after; Patrick grabbed pulled it out with a smile.

Brendon tapped Dallon's arm, causing the tall not to turn. "What did he say?" Brendon asked, nervously. It wasn't that Dallon made him uncomfortable, it was just that he was slightly intimidating to Brendon. His height, his eyes, his ability to, seemingly, fluidly speak another language: they were all traits that Brendon found himself admiring, even though he hardly knew anything about the taller boy.

"What a shame, it is beautiful." Dallon replied, turning back to the trees. "I wish everyone could realize that..."

"Yea..." Brendon trailed off, looking between the trees and the back of Dallon's head. "If only..."

Dallon spun back around, grinning at Brendon. "You haven't even seen the best part. It's just over half a mile in, c'mon!"

"Into the forrest?" Brendon asked, "Bro, the horror movies advise against..."

"I'm more into geeky than stabby." Dallon shrugged, "C'mon. What are you, chicken?"

"What are you, six?"

"Just trust me." Dallon replied with a roll of his eyes. He began to wander into the woods along a narrow path. "I won't pull a Halloween move on you if that's what you're afraid of."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Jason..." Brendon mumbled as he began following Dallon after Patrick scurried along the path to keep up. It was only after speaking it lowly out loud that he realized the Friday The 13TH movies didn't come out for a few more years.

It was a weird feeling to know about something so in depth before others did.

Brendon shook the thought away and continued following the boys through the wooded forrest. A dull light was dancing along the path, just ahead of the group, giving Brendon the impression that either Patrick or Dallon had come prepared.