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Until I can post on, I've decided to post the prologue of my Life is Strange fanfic, "is Strange" here on Max's journal! It shows how I imagine the week after Chloe's (final) death in the game. It acts as a sort of epilogue to Life is Strange, and a prologue to Wonderland, so there's not so much of a core conflict.

Since this is just the prologue, it's relatively short. Enjoy!

is Strange

One whole week. That’s how much of Max Caulfield’s life disappeared after her final rewind. For a moment all she could hear was the gunshot ringing out in the bathroom, the sound of a body hitting the floor- Chloe’s body, her blue-haired best friend, punk and geek and sweetheart all rolled into one, in a pool of blood. Nathan’s panicked ramblings and Max’s own quiet, shaking breaths, desperately trying to hide the sobs that built and built in her chest.

Then nothing for a while. It was hard to say how much of it was the transition between October 7 and October 11, and how much was her just shutting down. Tuning out.

Then, finally, the sound of the sea lapping against a rocky cliff. Seagulls squawking overhead. And the wind, so gentle and quiet, rustling leaves and stroking her cheek, her hair, as she stood next to the bench Chloe sat on, next to the lighthouse Chloe used to visit, next to the cliff where Chloe hugged her goodbye. The sea stretched out in sparkling blues and greens, with small boats disappearing into the distance, and an infinite, cloudless sky overhead. The whole world seemed to move at an incredibly slow and calm pace, as though silently exhaling a long, deep breath in the final hours of daylight. Arcadia Bay went on with its late afternoon routine like it hadn’t been on the verge of destruction only an hour before.

Because it hadn’t been. Chloe had fixed the entire timeline when she gave herself up.

Max’s fists clenched and unclenched, with equal parts of hatred and grief, staring at the town.

The sun inched down toward the sea as Max made her way to the cemetery. The winding path down the hill was longer than she remembered, and quieter, too. Even her thoughts reduced themselves to a dull nothingness as she walked with very deliberate steps, focusing only on the ground in front of her. Leaves crunched underfoot, squirrels darted between trees, and none of it registered.

Then the funeral.

It was hard to stand there and watch Chloe be lowered into the ground. She could hear David’s stuttering attempts to comfort Joyce as she sobbed into his shoulder, having to deal with another loss in her dwindling family. The priest said something distressingly generic. Max shut it all out, and thought about how this person- this girl that no one thought anything of- deserved so much more than a plain coffin and a tiny spot in the town cemetery. There should have been hundreds of people, so many flowers, so many thank yous… but the town had no idea that Chloe Price had saved them. And it probably never would.

Time spun by so quickly. Just a little while ago Max and Chloe had been talking… and now the coffin was disappearing into the ground, and people were throwing soil into the hole, and Max couldn’t even remember what day it was, in what timeline.

It was all too fast.

After the funeral everyone knew to leave her alone. She found a quiet spot underneath a tree and broke down. She shook and sobbed against her arms, knees pulled up against her chest, until the sky went from red to black and the stars shone and exhaustion overcame her, and she never saw Chloe again.
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Max Caulfield

August 2017

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