Please be decent this time… she thinks to herself desperately as she leans up against a random locker; ignoring the blurs of teens rushing past her up and down the hallway at speeds so quick that you'd think they'd all be training for marathons. The weekend has just arrived, so everyone's chatting it up with their friends about some dope party that they're planning on attending, or whether or not they're going to end up finding a costume in time for the big dance that's coming in a week's time.

Well… almost everyone.

Max Caulfield doesn't exactly have anything planned for the immediate future; not exactly psyched at the prospect of getting piss drunk and waking up on some stranger's couch or worse. She's what you might call an oddball, yet that category has been stretched out a little thin at this place. Blackwell Academy is notorious for attracting more of the artsy crowd, so usually she feels as though she could just fit right in.

Then again, with the past couple of weeks she's been having, you could definitely infer that Max isn't even normal for these standards. Rewinding time kind of has a way of fucking with whatever personal identity you may have had previously.

But right now, the eighteen year old girl (or fully grown, mature woman, as she'd have people believe) isn't as concerned with this power as she is with opening this damn envelope. Preliminary report cards are enough to make even the most confident of students develop at least a little bit of anxiety.

Getting rudely told to piss off as she quickly maneuvers out of a girl's way, Max slides her fingers delicately over the package before immediately ripping the flap open. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she slides the piece of paper out and takes a tiny peak at some of the marks.

Photography – A.

Gym – B-

Literary Studies – B+

Algebra – D

"Fuck…" she swears as she registers the mark in her head; ignoring the rest as she scrunches the dastardly report into a tight ball before walking over to the nearest recycling bin. Looks as though Mom and Dad won't be seeing how their star child is faring in the grades department until December.

The teen nearly makes it all the way there, when a stern and lecturing voice pretty much causes her to freeze on the spot.

"I see what you've got there, Max," Mr. Jefferson remarks with a knowing glance as he leans outside his classroom doorframe. The man's a complete genius when it comes to photography, with his work being something that Max, at least in her mind, can only aspire to be within her dreams. Why he'd bother to teach a bunch of pretentious punks like many of the students around here still boggles her mind, but to each their own. She's never been one to judge somebody's personal preferences. "I think we both know you should keep that report card – we hand them out to you guys for a reason, you know."

Grinning sheepishly in his direction, Max shrugs as she tries to smooth out the creases upon her leg; settling to hiding the blasted thing behind her back when that doesn't work. "Just, uh… got a little ticked at some of the classes, that's all," she excuses herself, though it doesn't do much to dissuade the teacher. If anything, he seems to be even less impressed with this response than he was upon catching her in the middle of the act.

Keeping her head down as the king of douche bags, Mr. Nathan Prescott, comes strolling by and undoubtedly gives her one of his now-infamous death glares, Max rubs her arm in major discomfort. The events in the bathroom with Chloe are still fresh in her mind, and even though she was able to keep it from happening, the shock of her friend dying in such a gruesome way was still enough to shake the girl to her core. However, much to her dismay, her attempts at bringing the asshole to justice have largely gone unsuccessfully.

In hindsight, Max really thinks that she should've expected this kind of an outcome, seeing's how the Prescott's are the town's wealthiest and most influential family around. No wonder the accusations went unheard – the principal was probably laughing behind her back after she has mentioned the crime to him.

The fact that she's practically getting harassed by both Nathan and his father haven't done much to ease her anxieties as of late.

"…Max? Did you hear me?"

"Huh? What?" she stumbles back into reality, having been lost in her thoughts for about the billionth time.

Adjusting his glasses so that they fit more snuggly upon the bridge of his nose, Mr. Jefferson walks towards her as the last of the kids exit the building. "I asked if you planned on handing in that photograph for the contest. The world's not going to wait around for you in real life, you know," he advises; unintentionally making the girl feel a little uncomfortable under his stare. The guy's pretty kind when he wants to be, but boy does he know how to bring on the guilt trips. "There's no need to be shy about it – photography is an art in and of itself, remember? And art should be shared among the masses so that they too can recognize its beauty for themselves – not hidden away and sitting there with wasted potential. You've got a gift here, Max. Don't be afraid to pursue it."

Finding herself more inspired (and yet, oddly intimidated at the same time) by Mark Jefferson every day, Max quickly nods and mumbles a thank you before placing the report card back into her bag and speed-walking down the hall. How much more embarrassing could it get than being confronted by an idolized professional?

Oh that's right – if said guy is also your high school teacher.

Watching until she opens the metal doors and steps out into the autumn weather, Mr. Jefferson smirks before shaking his head. She's going places, he thinks to himself as he bends down and studies a fallen poster of Rachel Amber – the girl whose been missing for some months now. He still can't understand how something like this could've possibly happened in such a small town like this.

How could one person have befallen such a terrible fate?

"So… you're not bullshitting me right now? This is seriously happening? You're not just super high or anything?"

"Yeah, Chloe – for the hundredth time, yes!"

"Ok, alright! Geez! Sorry for being just a little bit sceptical that my old friend suddenly shows up after five years and claims she has fucking super powers…" Chloe murmurs, with the small smirk underlying her face telling Max that she's just kidding around. There's nothing normal or average about this, sure – but honestly, she can't really blame the blue-haired, rebellious teen to be at least a little bit sceptical. "Anyways," she continues, looking much more interested than before, "if this is actually legit, then this might just be the coolest thing I've ever heard of! Max, you could go down in history for this shit!"

Taking a slurp out of the iced coffee that she had bought earlier, Max absentmindedly leans back on the bench as she tries to sort her mess of a life together. If someone had told her a month prior that she'd be able to essentially control time whenever she wanted, and that she'd occasionally be having visions of a massive storm that was spinning out of control, she'd probably tell you to go find your nearest shrink en pronto.

Is she just crazy, or is all of this happening to her for a reason? Is there more to this gift (or curse, depending on how you look at it) than she rightly knows or even understands?

Feeling a hand resting on top of her head as she's forced to turn around, Max looks over at Chloe as she waves her other hand in front of her face. "You're spacing out over there like nobody's business," she remarks, chuckling before taking another toke of weed. The place there at is pretty desolate, with nobody really except some of the skater boys from Blackwell ever coming around. Usually they're as high as kites themselves. "Come on, don't be so worried about it! Life's too short, Max! Do you know how much cool shit we can do with this?!"

"This is serious – how aren't you getting that?! I don't know the first thing about time travel, Chloe! What if this ends up hurting me somehow?! Or worse?!" Max questions, getting more worked up about the potential consequences by the second. This kind of thing can't just be a coincidence – nobody has supernatural powers, so why the hell can she do this sort of thing? "…three weeks ago I was just trying not to flunk out of Blackwell. Now you're back in my life, I've got people making threats everywhere I go, and now I can suddenly control time. So much has changed in such a short period…"

Frowning in slight concern, Chloe struggles to try and come up with an explanation that would be enough to satisfy her doubts. But how can she in this situation? There's no logical explanation for any of these events that she can fully comprehend; no answers that she can come up with other than some destiny bullshit that'll probably get shot down immediately.

Settling on giving her the only honest answer she can manage, Chloe inhales the last of the drug before flicking the paper to the ground and smooshing it underneath her boot. "I've got no clue why this would be happening to you," she remarks as Max sighs deeply, "…but maybe you should just keep using it for the time being, you know? For better or worse, you've been given something amazing here. You'll drive yourself crazy if you try to just ignore something this huge, so why not make the most out of your situation?"

"…so your sage advice," Max concludes sarcastically, "is for me to quit whining about it and just bend time whenever I want?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Geez, Chloe… you are… unbelieve… ugh…" Max trails off as a massive migraine starts to cloud her vision; overcoming her cognitive functioning as black dots start to appear before her very eyes.

The last thing that she hears is Chloe's panicked swearing as the girl hits the ground in an unconscious state.

…urgh… God damn it, where am I? Max wonders; her question almost immediately answered as she feels the cold rain and harsh winds slamming against her body once again. It's always the same vision with her laying face-first in the dirt, standing up to full height and heading up the same hill to find the same busted lighthouse.

But something about this particular trip seems… different. Significantly so.

Groggily wiping her eyes as she collects her bearings, the first thing that Max spots is a large doe just watching her from in between the trees. The animal doesn't seem frightened by the teen's presence, and in fact almost seems as though it wants her to follow along.

Doing as her instincts tell her, since usually within these she can pretty much recognize the signs of what's to come, Max shields her face from the elements as she squints her eyes and tries to keep up with the doe as it scurries ahead. When that same familiar bolt of lightning strikes down the tree and starts collapsing directly towards her, Max manages to hold out her hand at precisely the right moment; bringing time to an abrupt standstill.

I'm not dying today – not like this, Max promises herself as she reverses the clock and quickly maneuvers out of harm's way; tracking the doe down again as she races to the top of the hill.

Even after seeing it a few times at this point, the massive tornado forming out in the distance still boasts a terrifying presence, even more so since Max can tell that it's coming sooner than they might think. She doesn't know the exact date of when it will hit, but if it's anything like the destructive force that this baby's exhibiting, then there may be a lot more to be concerned about then the antics going on at Blackwell Academy. Hundreds of lives could very well be at stake here, and yet only she is able to know that for sure.

By the time it comes to fruition, it may be too late to save everyone.

Suddenly, the illusive doe stops when it reaches the top of the hill; standing completely still as yet another teenage girl appears within the vision. It's difficult to tell what she looks like from this distance, so Max carefully moves forward to see what all of this could possibly mean. Will this mystery person have the answers she seeks? Could she possibly know why all of this time phenomenon is going on?

"H-hello?!" Max hollers out, getting no response as the girl lightly brushes her fingers against the doe's head. Panic erupts within Max as the top of the lighthouse breaks off and comes crashing towards the two of them, but the girl doesn't even move as it sails right over her head. It's almost as if she didn't even notice the thing at all. "Can you hear me?! Hello there?! Who… who are you?!"

There's nothing particularly striking about the girl, other than the fact that she's wearing black jeans and shoes with a blue hooded sweater overtop of her purple long-sleeved shirt. The doe flicks its ears back and forth and darts away into thin air as Max finally comes within talking distance, but still the girl hasn't moved an inch.

Doing the only reasonable gesture that she can think of, Max cautiously reaches out her hand as she taps the stranger on the shoulder, when finally some small amount of movement occurs.

Watching as the girl lowers her hood, Max finally gets something distinctive with the newcomer – two pigtails at the back accompanied by a white and blue ball cap with a big 'D' stamped on the front of it. Turning around, the girl's yellowish eyes throw Max off for a second as she stares directly at her; capturing her gaze for a few seconds.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happens.

Largely resembling that problem in the bathroom, the strange girl pulls a loaded gun from her pocket and holds it out in front of her; firing two shots at Max before the teen can even utter a sound.

"…M…ax? Come on now, wake up! You've gotta stay awake here, alright?! Stay with me!" Chloe tilts her friend's chin up with worry capturing her in an iron grip. Temporary relief overcomes her when Max finally does reopen her eyes, but the blood running down her nose isn't an encouraging sign. "Holy shit, kid! Are you trying to give me a heart attack over here?!"

Giving her at least a little bit of breathing room and offering up some of her water bottle, Chloe eases up a little bit with how frightened and confused her friend seems to be. Max had been unconscious for at least half an hour, and she pretty much had to drag the girl behind a dumpster from her arms just so that the skater kids wouldn't see. Taking her to the hospital seemed to be kind of out of the question, since then both of their parents would likely get called, and who knows what kind of questions they'd start to ask?

Waiting a minute or so for Max's breathing to return to a more normal state, Chloe bends on one knee in front of her in concern. "Was it one of those vision things again?" she questions, knowing her hunch was correct as Max shakily nods. "Oh man… this has to be connected with your time thing somehow, it just has to be! There's no way that these things are unrelated!"

Finding it hard to disagree, Max leans her head back up against the dumpster as she tries to remember everything that happened right there. It all felt so real, with the pain and shock of the gunfire almost becoming unbearable even if it was just a dream.

Or was it really a dream? And who was that girl anyways? Max certainly hasn't ever seen her around here before, or back in Seattle.

"So what happened in this one, then?" Chloe probes as Max instinctively grabs onto her stomach; sighing in relief as no bullet wounds have actually penetrated her system.

"Honestly," she states in total disbelief, "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."