Gangster Girl

Blue-Haired Hero (1)

I'm suddenly awoken by what I thought was the sound of roaring wind, pouring rain, and a loud crack of lightning. I'm sure a person or two in my photography class noticed me suddenly jolt awake; I see people quickly look away from me as I scan the room. I don't remember exactly when I fell asleep or what I was dreaming about, but it was something weird, and apparently real enough to force me awake.

I'm all spaced out and not paying attention, but I think Jefferson is going on about Alfred Hitchcock and one of his movies or something. I get sudden anxiety about being called on to answer a question when I realize I hadn't been paying attention to a thing Jefferson has been saying. As I scan the room, I silently hope that I don't have to speak for the rest of the class.

I've come to the conclusion that it was definitely just a dream. Nobody else seemed to be startled by the lightning, wind, or heavy rain. I take a deep breath. Okay, I'm in class.... everything's cool. I'm okay.

I take a moment to collect my thoughts about the bizarro dream I just had. Or was it a dream? It felt way too real to be a dream, but then again, what else could've it been? There certainly isn't a tornado storm going on right now.

I remember a storm; a really bad storm ripping through Arcadia Bay. There was a giant twister that came in from the ocean, and the dark, heavy clouds above it swirled into it. The rain poured hard and the wind howled loud.

I remembered walking up a familiar childhood path through the forest to the lighthouse. I used to walk up that path all the time as a child, taking as many pictures as I could with the crappy camera I had at the time. I stumbled up the path, avoiding falling trees and junk that was being thrown about by the tornado.

When I reached the lighthouse, I remembered grabbing a newspaper that was being held flush against a wooden post by the wind. The date read October 7th, which is this Friday. Well Max, you have five days to save the city. Time to get your shit together.

I remember the newspaper being ripped from my hands and being taken away into the swirling wind. I backed up towards the lighthouse, about to go back into the forest when a boat came out of nowhere and slammed into the top part of the lighthouse. I stared at it in horror as the top of the lighthouse crumbled over and fell towards me. And that's when the lightning woke me up. Or was it the crashing of the lighthouse on top of me? I shudder at the thought.

I zone back in to what seems to be Kate being hassled with another note. One of Victoria's friends throws a crumpled up ball of paper at Kate, and it hits her square in the face. Poor girl, I wish I could do something to help her.

I came to the conclusion that I definitely didn't fall asleep, and that it didn't feel like a dream. But I don't know what else could've possibly happened. Something strange is definitely going on.

I zone back into the class conversation to Victoria going on to Jefferson about Diane Arbus and the way she saw humanity as tortured and I guess expressed it with her photography? I don't know, I haven't paid attention at all this class.

I sift through my belongings sprawled out on my desk space in front of me. I go through my journal and pencil case to make sure that everything is still exactly where I left it before, I guess just sort of as a reality check. To make sure I'm not dreaming or whatever anymore. I zone back into the conversation when Jefferson says something that strikes me as odd.

"Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn't that too easy? Too obvious?" He says in a rather hushed, innocent tone.

I don't think much of it. It can't mean anything. He's simply a teacher, nothing more.

I look back at my belongings just to be reminded of a photo contest I'm being forced to participate in. The Everyday Heroes Contest. I pick up my picture, a little disappointed in it. Look at this crap! How can I show this to Mr. Jefferson? I can hear the class laughing at me now.