The Girl Who Rewinds Time went under some editing to make it a better written story. Much was kept the same, but some scenes were altered and changed. Enjoy!
Episode 1: Chrysalis
My name is Daniel Connors. And let me just say man, school definitely isn't my thing. And Blackwell Academy is a shithole of a school. Our Principal is a drunk, we have a strict as hell security guard, and what can I say about Nathan Prescott? His family owns this goddamn school. They pretty much own Arcadia Bay for that matter. Nathan thinks he's all powerful because of his rich family. The dude thinks he can pull shit off all the time.
"Alfred Hitchcock famously called film "little pieces of time" but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was." Mark Jefferson. My photography teacher. Probably the only cool teacher at Blackwell.
I slouched into my chair. Beside me sat the alleged viral slut everyone's talking about, Kate Marsh. I myself haven't seen the video. Nor do I want to. But if I'm being honest, Kate is kinda hot. But she's not my type. I don't dig religious chicks.
"These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow; from light to shadow; from color to chiaroscuro..." Just as Mr. Jefferson finished his sentence, Taylor Christensen grinned and threw a crumpled piece of paper across the room. Hitting Kate in the face. I watched as it rolled under my table. I looked up at Taylor. She smiled and winked at me.
She never misses her chances to hit on me. Taylor's been chasing me for a while now. But I also don't dig snobby Vortex Club bitches either.
Mr. Jefferson sat on the middle table. "Now, can you give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition in black and white?" A girl raised her hand. "Diane Arbus." She said. "There you go, Victoria! Why Arbus?" Mr. Jefferson asked.
Victoria Chase. What best describes her? A rich bitch. Who's most of the time making googly eyes at Mr. Jefferson.
"You feel like, totally haunted by the eyes of those sad mothers and children." Victoria said. "She saw humanity as tortured, right? And frankly, it's bullshit." Mr. Jefferson said. "Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation." He told us.
I let out a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. Mr. Jefferson took notice of this and looked at me. Raising his eyebrow. "I'm sorry. Am I boring you, Daniel?" He said to me. "Nah, bro." I told him.
I just like my hair to curve over my ears and downwards to my neck. I usually run my fingers through my hair to keep the look.
He gave me one last look until he went back to lecturing us. "What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence?" He eyed at everyone. "She had a brilliant eye, so she could have taken another approach." Victoria cleared her throat. "I have to admit, I'm not a big fan of her work. I prefer... Robert Frank." She said.
Mr. Jefferson nodded. He said, "Me too, Victoria. He captured—" A flash of a camera caught Mr. Jefferson's attention. "I believe Max has taken what you kids call a "selfie"..." He said.
Maxine Caulfield. But she goes by Max. She's what you'd call a hipster. We've exchanged words before, but we're not friends. Mainly because we only have two classes together. I sometimes forget she's even around because she's so damn quiet.
"Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early eighteen-hundreds. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie-expression." Mr. Jefferson smirked. "Sorry. I couldn't resist." He said and cleared his throat. "The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as it's been around." Mr. Jefferson looked at Max.
"Now Max, since you've captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" Max eyed nervously at the teacher and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"I did know! ...But I kinda forgot." She said awkwardly. Mr. Jefferson sighed. "You either know this or not, Max." He said. "Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?" Victoria put her hand up. Mr. Jefferson pointed at her. "Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created "daguerreotypes" a process that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror." She said.
Victoria looked at Max and smirked at her. "Now you're totally stuck in the Retro Zone. Sad face." Mr. Jefferson smiled. "Very good, Victoria." He said. "The Deguerreian Process brought out the fine detail in people's faces, making them extremely popular from the eighteen-hundreds onward." Mr. Jefferson continued to talk until the bell finally rang.
"And guys don't forget the deadline to submit a photo in the "Everyday Heroes" contest. I'll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you'll be feted by the art world." Uh-huh's and yep's echoed through the room. "It's great exposure and it can kickstart a career in photography." He added. "So Stella and Allyssa, get it together. Taylor, don't hide, I'm still waiting for your entry too. And yes Max, I see you pretending not to see me." And with that, Mr. Jefferson went to his desk.
I ran my hands through my hair stood up. "Daniel?" Kate said. "What's up?" I asked as I looked at her. She nodded toward my skateboard under the table. "Your skateboard." That makes four times I almost forgot my skateboard in Mr. Jefferson's classroom. Making four times Kate had to remind me.
Once I had it in hand, I nodded at her. "Thanks..." I said. A small smile curved in her lips and she nodded back.
"Hi, Kate." Max greeted. "Oh, hi Max." Kate said back.
As I left them and made my way out, Mr. Jefferson looked up from Victoria. "Daniel, if I catch you skating around the halls with that thing again..." He said. "You won't." I assured him. I pushed the door open and entered the halls of Blackwell Academy. Filled with a bunch of other students attending the school.
Like Evan Harris. We rarely talk to each other.
Dana Ward. She's really hot. Can't say the same for Alyssa Anderson. Wish I could.
Brooke Scott is a total nerd. You can't keep a conversation where she doesn't talk about her dumbass drone.
There's Logan Robertson. Pushing around another kid named Daniel. Daniel DaCosta. All he ever does is spend time drawing in his sketchpad.
Me? I skate around Arcadia Bay with Justin and Trevor the second we get the chance. Which really isn't much anymore. We're known around Blackwell as "those skaters." Sometimes "skater fags." It's whatever though. We give two shits what people think of us.
Down the hall is a missing person poster. Rachel Amber has been gone for months now. I remember when she was the most popular person here in BlackHell. She was also really hot. What can I say? There are a lot of hot girls at Blackwell. That's probably one of the only good things about this school.
Actually, from time to time, Rachel and a friend of hers would hang out with me and the guys at the park. But that was a while ago now. I don't really remember her friend either.
I leaned against the wall and popped my earbuds in and turned on some music.
After a few minutes of chilling and gathering my thoughts, I left to my next class. I then saw Nathan suspiciously entering the girls' washroom. I don't know what he's doing, but it's fucking weird as hell. I shrugged it off and walked to my next class. When suddenly I was stopped by Principal Wells. He pointed at his ear. Signalling for me to take out my earbuds.
"Have you and your friends been skating around Blackwell, Mr. Connors?" He asked. "Nope. All good from here." I told him. He glared at me. "How many times do I have to go over the 'no skating policy' with you?" He said.
Shit, here we go.
"As much as it takes, dude." I told him. He crossed his arms. "Then let me inform you, skating is strictly not aloud on school grounds—" I sighed and suddenly trailed off when a blue-haired girl entered the building.
She was wearing a dark blue beanie, a necklace with three bullets, a black leather jacket, a white shirt with a skull on it, pale ripped jeans, and black boots. I watched as she glanced around before entering the girls' washroom.
But for some reason, there was something very familiar about her.
"Are you listening Daniel?" Principal Wells asked. I looked back at him. "I'm sorry, what, bro?" I asked. "I said if you continue to do so, I'll have to send Mr. Madsen to come and get you." I rolled my eyes. "Ah. Right. Madsen... everyone's favorite security guard." I said with an amused grin. "I don't appreciate the sarcasm either, Mr. Connors." The principal said. I sighed. "Okay. Fine. I promise I won't—"
Then bang.