Chapter 1- Friday the 11th-PM

"Alfred Hitchcock famously called film, "little pieces of time," but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was. These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and out sorrow."

Experiencing a sensation reminiscent of being woken up with a bucket of water, Max Caulfield's consciousness had just reconnected with her present day body. Neurons form her brain had fired out signals to her extremities, as her eyes shot open and she gasped for breath. She had just made the hardest decision of her young life, having agreed to honor her friend's last request. Despite every fiber of her body telling her not to, she used the photo to go back and let Chloe die in order to save the town of Arcadia Bay.

As Max's mind became acclimated with her new present-day body she frantically scanned her surroundings to get a feel for where she was. In the midst of trying to identify the people staring back at her, a bright light suddenly flashed on. The flash of light left her momentarily disoriented until her vision cleared. The brunette opened her eyes to find herself back in the photography lab in Blackwell Academy, hearing a lecture that she had to endure numerous times over the last week. The class was organized with tables positioned to form a square, leaving an open space in the middle for the students to direct their attention at the professor. Victoria Chase had just answered yet another question; before Taylor Christensen tossed a ball of paper at Kate Marsh after waiting for the professor Mr. Jefferson to have his back turned.

No…not this again, Max thought as she watched the familiar scene play out in front of her for yet another time.

In the next moment, as Max was still in disbelief over what see seeing, there was a loud thud off to the right at the windows. Having remembered the cause of the noise during her nightmare, the brunette closed her eyes, reluctant to confirm whether the sound was due to the windows being covered in blood again. After a momentary delay, she winced at the sound of another thud before the intensity increased to the degree of a large hail storm.

"Max!" someone shouted in a muffled voice as the noise stopped. The sound of her name jolted her out of the state of shock, before she opened her eyes to the sight of the entire class staring back at her. At that moment, Mr. Jefferson approached the brunette with concern written on his face. He paused before reaching out to touch Max's shoulder before saying, "Max, are you alright?"

It was that touch that pulled Max out of the flashback. Unsure if she was actually back in reality, Max blinked several times whilst scanning the room. After confirming that she was in fact in the photography lab, panic suddenly struck as she considered the possibility that she had found herself in another nightmare. The brunette looked around frantically searching for any indication otherwise. Not to be calmed until she noticed her father, Ryan Caulfield, standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder.

So that was dad I heard, not Jefferson. Max realized, deriving immediate relief from it.

"Max! Are you alright?" Ryan asked, now becoming more concerned by her lack of a response.

"Yeah…the flash of light just blinded me for a bit," Max replied trying her best to play it off like nothing had happened.

"Yeah...sorry about that," a nervous looking guy standing by the lights said, "didn't mean to flash it right in your face."

"Idiot," reporter Maggie Maggenhall said injecting herself into the conversation. "Sorry about that Max," she said apologetically while sitting down across from her. The female reporter was in her mid-thirties, relatively short with black hair, and dressed in a fashionable pant suit resembling that of a real estate agent. After the obligatory comment to Max, she became preoccupied with adjusting her clothes and making sure every strand of hair was in its proper place. Shortly thereafter, the cameraman held up three fingers to indicate they were ready to start, before beginning to count down to one. On cue, the reporter smiled at the camera before turning her attention to Max.

"Well first, let me thank you for taking the time to share your story while you are going through this traumatic experience," Ms. Maggenhall said in her best news anchor voice. "First, can you recount what you witnessed in the moments leading up to the shooting?"

Suddenly noticing the camera pointed at them, Max recognized that she was being interviewed by the local news. The realization resulted in the onset of a full-blown panic attack as the attention of everyone in the room had become fixated on her. Consequently, her heartrate increased as the attack progressed to a sensation akin to having the air forcefully sucked out her lungs as the walls closed in around her. In the midst of this, Max's only thought was that of escaping her current situation.

I can't do an interview! Max thought, I have no idea what happened in this timeline! What if I say something stupid, or something that I shouldn't know?

The more Max thought about everything that could go wrong with the interview, the more anxious she became, and the more anxious she became the more she felt like she was going to throw up. While struggling to suppress her gag reflex, the brunette realized that therein lye the answer. She struggled to summon her courage before finally managing to speak.

"Uh… excuse me. I think I'm going to be sick."

Max than stood up and darted out of the room to the tune of voices calling after her. She found herself in the central hallway at Blackwell Academy, before leaning up against a locker in an attempt to collect herself. Finding herself in the midst of a television interview had been one of the worst situations she had returned to after coming back from a photo jump, second only to the times she ended up in the darkroom. Although, this was the first occurrence in which she had been thrown so far off balance as to result in a panic attack. In all of the previous instances, the brunette had been able to adapt quickly after being able to assess whatever situation she had been placed in. Shuddering at the thought of the darkroom, Max had begun to catch her breath when the door opened behind her.

The moonlight shown into the hallway from the windows on the doors providing additional light to the dimly lit hallway, creating an atmosphere that Max found disconcerting. Everything looked the same. The blue lockers leading down the hall, which for some reason had red ones mixed in. The "Go Bigfoots!" banner hanging atop the lockers on the right side. Her gaze shifted down the hallway before stopping abruptly at the bulletin boards still plastered with missing Rachel Amber posters. Nothing had change in Blackwell since Chloe had passed from the one from the original timeline.

Why are those posters still up? Max wondered to herself. Have they not found her yet?

As Max considered why the police hadn't discovered Rachel Amber's body yet, she felt the presence of someone approaching her from behind.

"Max! Are you okay?" Ryan Caulfield asked with an obviously look of concern on his face. "What happened in there just now?"

That was a good question, Max thought, as she tried to figure that out herself. Her mind started to scramble in an effort to formulate an excuse that didn't make her seem completely insane. Having no idea of what had transpired since Chloe was shot eliminated the option of anything too specific. Although, given Ryan's innate ability to see through her attempts at lying, the explanation had to be close enough to reality.

"Sorry Dad, I just started to think about everything that has happened and I just started to panic." It was basically true, as far as her father knew, so she didn't have to lie. Max had been trying to keep her composure, but in that moment the weight of her fateful choice caught up with her, and tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay," Ryan said as he pulled his daughter in for a hug. "Don't bottle your emotions up, you just lost your best friend."

Momentarily, Max felt as though nothing could hurt her as she was enveloped in her fathers' arms. Ever since she was a little girl, her dad had always managed to find a way to make her feel safe. It had been her dad that had seen Max through her initial bout of depression after they had moved to Seattle. At first glance, one could easily confuse him for a lumberjack, as he certainly looked the part with his full beard and a fashion sense that typically included some variation of flannel. Despite his rather rugged appearance, he proved to be a loving and caring father for Max growing up.

With that said, Max couldn't hold everything in anymore and all of her emotions began to pour out. "We just had a chance to reconnect after I left for 5 years and now she's gone."

Her father did his best to console her, "I know, sweetie. I can't imagine how hard this has been on you. No one should have to lose an old friend like that." Max just listened and cried in his arms for a couple of minutes until she started calm down. Sensing that the worst of it was over, Ryan pulled his daughter in front of him and asked;

"Do you think you'll be up for going back to the interview or do you want me to cancel?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm up for going back in there and talk about what happened," Max replied hoping that her Dad would go for it. She shouldn't talk to anyone until her figured out everything that happened since going back to the bathroom. As the brunette said that, she looked around and remembered that they were standing in front of the photography class room.

What the hell? Max thought, why would they interview me in the photography classroom?

Immediately Max knew something was wrong, the class room should be closed off as a crime scene.

"Hey, it's okay," Ryan said, "you don't have to do the interview if you don't want to. Just sit tight and I'll go tell the guys from channel 8 that you won't be coming back in."

While Max waited for her father to come back she tried her best to guess what had happened in the 5 days since Chloe had passed away. The questions poured through her mind as she considered the possibilities. Why was she being interview in the photography class room? Did that mean that Jefferson hadn't been caught in this timeline? The brunette was frantically trying to decipher the potential implications of that when her father came back into the hall.

"Are you ready to go?" Ryan asked Max as she immediately started walking toward the door. The producers from channel 8 weren't happy about the cancelation but he wouldn't mention that to his daughter. She was obviously still feeling the effects of her panic attack and didn't need to hear about the quilt trip he had just received from the producers.

The two of them walked toward the front entrance of Blackwell in an awkward silence. The exception being the sound of their footsteps, as neither was quite sure of what they should say to the other. As they proceeded down the hall Max scanned everything in sight hoping to get some indication of had happened since she had jumped forward five days. Despite her best efforts, the brunette found no indication of what she was looking for. The Vortex Club party had been rescheduled as a result of the shooting, Rachel Amber was still missing, and some poor guy was still looking for their stolen laptop. The brunette had been holding out hope that Jefferson had been arrested; that interview location had just been a poor choice, but the lack of any discernable change in the halls of Blackwell left her feeling deflated. As they walked down the front steps Max stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Jefferson's photos still being displayed around the front of the campus.

Well shit, Max thought too herself, what the hell am I going to do now?