Life is Strange: My Unusual Journey

Prologue chapter of my Life is Strange novelization, a novelization of my first playthrough of the game, feature my choices and what I did with a Grahamfield twist, hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Life is Strange or its characters.

Prologue: A Raging Storm

The horrendous boom of thunder was what woke me; that and the sudden awareness that I was practically drenched. Slowly I lifted my head up, gradually taking stock of my surroundings. I was lying on the ground, in what appeared to be a forest of some sort, it was dark, the wind was howling, the rain absolutely pouring down, the thunder boomed again.

I slowly forced myself to my feet, confused and worried. The rain stung my face and plastered strands of my shoulder length brown hair to my freckled face, partially covering my blue eyes. I quickly pushed it back, looking around.

'What's going on, how did I get here?' I wondered frantically, before another pertinent question occurred to me. '…And, where is here?'

I wasn't going to find any answers standing here however, so I began to follow the path. It was difficult however; the wind seemed to blast directly towards me, slowing me down. I had to hold my hand in front of my face, to block it and the rain.

I could feel the rain soaking my plain denim jeans, grey hooded top and pink 'Jane Doe' T-shirt. My colourful hi-tops made squelching noises whenever I took a step. Despite all this, causing great discomfort, I pressed on, despite my difficulties in walking due to the heavy rains and winds nearly knocking me off my feet several times.

I looked around, I needed to find answers, but more importantly I needed to find safety. I soon found it when I saw the light, high above the trees.

I managed a small smile. 'Oh, of course, the lighthouse, I'll be safe there, just…need to…'

I forced myself to keep moving continuing along the path and up the hill; I had a rough idea where I was now that I'd seen the lighthouse. I just had to follow the path. Easier said than done I discovered, when a massive gust of wind nearly knocked me off my feet, I grunted as I was blown into a bundle of logs at the top of a slope.

I bit back a groan as I forced myself upright, it wasn't much further, I had to keep going. I still didn't know how I got here in the forest, or even why I was here, but at the moment, I felt it didn't matter. I simply wanted to get to the lighthouse and hopefully safety. I finally reached the top of the hill, where the lighthouse was situated.

I gasped; barely audible over the wind. 'What the fuck…?'

I found myself frozen in disbelief. I stood on the edge of the cliff, near the lighthouse, that overlooked what was normally, in my opinion, the most beautiful bit of coastline in Oregon.

I was watching the sea below as it churned in serious agitation, the nearby coastal town had no lights on, it was like a power cut, no surprise there however. What had actually caught my attention after all was the massive tornado in the middle of the sea, gradually moving, tearing up everything around it.

I slowly stepped back, still stunned and unable to take cover, as such I could only watch in growing horror.

"Whoa…fuck, no!" I cried out.

The reason was simple; the tornado had just thrown a fishing boat at the lighthouse, striking the top of it. That damaged part of the lighthouse fell, right on top of me, I could only watch, my body refusing to move, as I was about to be crushed to death.

Only it never happened, instead I jerked and found I was in fact sitting down, bone dry although I could still feel the sting of the rain on my face. I wasn't in the middle of a storm, the weather outside the window showed clear skies; I was in fact sitting in a classroom in the prestigious Blackwell Academy in the town of Arcadia Bay.

"Alfred Hitchcock once famously called films, little pieces of time." A voice said, getting my attention. "But he could have been talking about photography as he likely was…"

The speaker was a tall man of average build in his mid-40s. He has brown hair and brown eyes. His hair was in a choppy messy style, and he had a light trendy beard. His attire was smart casual, he wore black loafers, blue jeans and a white button up shirt with a black blazer over it.

He also wore black trendy glasses. It was my photography teacher, Mr. Mark Jefferson, a famous photographer who had returned to Arcadia Bay to teach his art to the next generation.

'Okay, I'm in class, I'm fine…' I told myself, attempting to calm down and listen to his lecture.

As I did so, I noticed several of my classmates, as well as a few things happening, some mostly benign. As I did so, I took note of certain classmates, trying to bring out the part of my brain that retained names, to remember who was who.

The first thing I noticed was a dark skinned girl, who I remembered was called Stella, sitting closest to the door dropped her pencil and quickly picked it up. Also sitting at her desk was a male student named Hayden.

Seated at the next desk over was a Hispanic boy named Daniel and at the desk closest to the window, a quiet girl with dyed purple hair named Alyssa, to my right was a modestly dressed quiet blonde girl, Kate Marsh.

At that moment, while Jefferson's back was turned, a balled up piece of paper struck Kate in the face, she flinched but otherwise didn't react. I frowned at that and looked over at the culprits; both blonde, one with long hair, the other with short hair, both in rather upmarket clothing.

'Victoria and Taylor of course.' I thought bitterly. 'Of course the Queen Bee and her minion have to hassle others.'

At that moment, I saw the screen of Victoria's phone, which was on the desk, light up, vibrating. To give Victoria her credit, she didn't answer it, focusing on class. I quickly realizing I should be doing so too, they were discussing historical photographers who captured the human spirit.

As the lesson continued I couldn't help but observe my surroundings again. Spread out on my desk before me were my old pencil case, my journal, my battered camera bag and two other objects, namely, a camera and a developed photo.

My name is Maxine Caulfield, but I prefer to go by Max, only my parents really still call me Maxine and usually only when they text me. I am eighteen and currently studying at Blackwell Academy on a scholarship; I was originally from Arcadia Bay, but five years ago, moved to Seattle with my family.

When I won my scholarship, I came back to Arcadia Bay. Truthfully my first thought was how incredibly unchanged the town seemed to be after all those year. As things stood however, I was simply trying to find my way through school, despite various difficulties; not helping matters was I was the very definition of the word 'wallflower'.

'Still, this could be my chance, to finally learn everything I need to become a successful photographer, accomplish my dream job…' I thought to myself. 'But, Mr. Jefferson's suggestion was to give him a photo for the contest that's being held…Am I, ready for that…?'

As I said this, I picked up the photo on my desk; it was a shot of me from behind, the focus was on the wall I was facing, which showed several other photos, all set up in a pattern, as I called it, my 'photo memorial wall'.

I shook my head, already feeling the doubt gnawing at my mind. 'Look at this crap, how can I show this to Mr. Jefferson.'

I put the photo back down and looked up, attempting to focus on the lecture again.

It was problematic to say the least, my mind was still too full of that strange…vision. I wondered if that was adding to me being unsettled, not just my usual insecurities.

"Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation. You could do the same to me, is that too easy…too obvious?" I overheard Mr. Jefferson saying.

I bit my lip and instead my attention wandered again as I looked at my old fashioned analogue Polaroid camera.

'I love that camera, even though film costs so much, I'd rather use it than any of the digital models used nowadays.' I thought to myself. 'I should take a quick picture now; make sure I'm still here and all.'

So I slipped the camera off the desk and prepared to take a picture of myself. I was so caught up in the moment I temporarily forgot I was in class until I took the picture and then jumped at Mr. Jefferson's voice.

"I believe Max has taken what you people call a 'selfie'." I looked up, feeling the heat rise to my face, feeling guilty. "A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition, and Max has a gift."

I felt slightly relieved at that, clearly I wasn't in trouble; I gently set my camera and the newly developed photo on my desk.

Mr. Jefferson then seemed to change the course of his lecture, taking it in relation to my recent actions.

"Of course the concept of self-portrait has been part of the art world for…as long as it's been around. Your generation wasn't the first to use pictures for, 'selfie expression'." He smiled lightly as the whole class groaned. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

I smiled lightly but that smile disappeared when Mr. Jefferson then spoke directly to me.

"Now Max, as you've caught our attention and clearly want to join the conversation, tell us the creative process that gave birth to the first self-portraits."

I tensed, my mind frighteningly blank, I couldn't think, my answer came out hesitantly.

"I…did know it, but I…kinda forgot." Even to my ears it sounded lame.

Mr. Jefferson smacked his hand off the desk he was leaning on. "You either know this, or you don't Max, does anyone here know their stuff?"

Almost instantly Victoria's hand shot up as she spoke. "Louis Daguerre was a French artist who developed Daguerreotypes in the 1830s, a process which gave pictures a sharp reflective style, like a mirror."

She then turned towards me, smirking. "Oh, now you're totally stuck in the retro zone…sad face."

This drew a laugh from Taylor; however Mr. Jefferson seemed to ignore the comment and instead congratulated Victoria for her correct answer and continued his lecture until finally the bell rang, indicating the end of the school day.

Immediately we all began to pack away our books and such; as we did so, Mr. Jefferson stood up and spoke urgently.

"Okay guys, remember the deadline to submit an entry for the Everyday Heroes contest, I'll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you will be feted before the art world. It's good publicity and can kick start a career."

He then began to gesture to certain students as he spoke to them. "So Stella and Alyssa, get it together. Taylor, don't hide, I'm still waiting for your entry and yes Max, I see you pretending not to see me."

I bit my lip standing up awkwardly after that. The class was mostly empty now, apart from myself and Mr Jefferson, who was now up at his desk, Victoria and Kate were the only other ones in the class. Victoria had gone up to Mr. Jefferson's desk and was talking to him; Kate had turned her chair back around to face the desk and was now sitting, head in her hands.

'Poor Kate, she looks so sad, she's been really…upset these past few days.' I noted to myself. I bit my lip as I approached, pausing as I spotted the rolled up ball of paper that had been thrown at Kate. Unable to help myself, I picked it up and unravelled it, reading it.

"Dear Kate

We loved your porn video

Love Blackwell xoxo"

I dropped it and shook my head. 'Now I wish I hadn't read it, purge.'

Taking a deep breath I looked over at Kate again, she was still sitting the same way as when I saw her just before. Cautiously I approached.

"Hi Kate."

She started and looked up, nodding. "Oh, hi Max."

I couldn't help but wonder when was the last time I saw Kate smile. I couldn't think of anything to say, even cringing as the words that came out of my mouth did so.

"I…I hope I didn't embarrass you with my lame answer."

Kate shrugged. "It sucks to be dragged into the spotlight."

I gave a small smile as I replied. "Unless you're Victoria."

"She's got nothing on you Max, well, I better go." She said before slowly starting to gather her things up.

I bit my lip, unable to help but be concerned.

Still, it was clear Kate didn't want to talk anymore, so I turned and made my way over to Mr. Jefferson. I once again felt myself becoming nervous, my usual shyness returning in double strength, even as I touched the photo in my pocket.

I felt a momentary pang of disgust when I realized that Victoria was actually flirting with Mr. Jefferson. Nevertheless I screwed up my courage and spoke.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jefferson, can I talk to you for a minute." I said, hoping my voice wasn't shaking.

Victoria glared at me and cut across me, snarking. "Yes, excuse you…"

But then Mr. Jefferson spoke, serious and business-like. "No Victoria, excuse us…I'd never one of photography's brightest new stars avoid handing in her picture."

"I…" My nerve broke and I just stammered out probably my lamest excuse ever. "I didn't have time, way too much homework."

"Max, you're a better photographer than you are a liar." Mr. Jefferson replied shaking his head. "Life won't wait for you to play catch up, I know it's a drag to hear some old dude lecture you but remember, you're young, the world is yours, blah, blah…"

He paused before then adding. "But you do have a gift, to capture the world and frame it the way you see it. You just need to take the first step, getting your work out there."

With that he turned away and I know I was done. I sighed and turned away.

Feeling like a total loser I began to make my way towards the door of the classroom. I couldn't believe I chickened out at the last moment like that. I was too worked up, I had to calm down.

Since school was over for the day, I had free time, I decided that maybe, once I calmed down, I could try again. But right now, I wanted to just get out of the classroom.

I opened the door and stepped out, into what would turn out to be the strangest and most messed up week of my life.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.