Chapter 1

All my life, I have dreamt of being a photographer. My pink plastic barbie camera hung from my neck as I pretended to take pictures of my mother. I’d repeat the words 'Gorgeous’, ‘fabulous’, and ‘beautiful!’. Like always, my father returned home around 5 p.m. My mother pulled me into her arms as she kissed my father on the cheek, as if it was a welcoming gift. I did the same. He ruffled my hair and poked at the birthmark on my cheek.

“You are my love, Delilah.” He said with a smile. My mother gave a look and gently slugged his shoulder. Since the birthmark was almost in the shape of a heart, he called me his love. I loved my father and mother dearly. The only thing was . . .I didn’t know what was going to become of my future. At 6, you understand nothing. You only dream of becoming a pop star or an astronaut. My grandmother was a photographer, and she always told me to become who I would be and to not stop the universe from doing its job. That night, we had my favorite dinner. Salad and pasta. This was the only thing I would eat as a child. Greens and meat.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?” She asked as I dove my fork into the dark green leaves.

“Why are you not working anymore?” I prominently pitched my voice as the words left my lips. She gave me a smile and pointed to a picture on the wall. It was a baby picture of me, holding my favorite stuffed rabbit. There was strawberry jam running down my face and had dripped all over my shirt. Why did she keep that picture? Why did she like that picture so much?

“But . . .Why?” I asked again.

“Because you need help when you get home from kindergarten, right? And you need someone to pick you up from school since you don’t like those boys that are on your bus.”

“Remember to not talk to any boys until you are 50.” Father said, cutting a meatball into quarters.

“That’s like . . .Your oldness!” I yelled while slapping my plate, splattering sauce all over the table. My father, at the time anyway, was only 27. My mother was 25. They had me when my mother was 19. The two of them believed they loved each other enough to where they wanted to have a child and be able to take care of it together. My father’s parents, however, didn’t like this Idea and tried to keep them apart. But my parents, being my parents, they wanted to be together. And they had me. The action of the thrown sauce led to laughing and father chasing me around the house. This was the last time my family had interacted like this. Ever since then, our lives have changed in ways we can’t explain.

Chapter One

My 2 books and 3 binders weighed my arms down as I trotted down the stairs. Chaplin made his way over to me to grab my things, but I twisted away. Chaplin is my partner for the current project we are working on in class. I’m in a photography class at Martin Prairie High school. Chaplin has sand colored hair and ocean blue eyes. He’s tall and lean, but I don’t think he realizes how much of a pushover he can be. While Chaplin is a senior, I’m a junior. Our job for this project is to capture natural beauty. Chaplin messed with his camera’s strap that wrapped around his neck.

“Where are you thinking of going for it?” He asked me, as he leaned into a locker. 35 . . . 18 . . . 12. I told myself as my fingers fumbled with my lock. The lock flipped open and nearly fell onto my foot. Chaplin took the lock, allowing me to throw my things into the metal cell. My heart jumped. Where is my camera? I asked myself. He looked at me, so I think he realized my worry. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I remembered our professor was looking through my camera roll. With a nervous laugh, I closed the locker. Chaplin and I walked down the hall to the classroom.

“I was thinking about taking the pictures at the park. Since the trees are blooming already, and if we get the picture at the correct time, we could have falling petals as an effect!” I dreamed of getting a photo like this. Maybe it is all the anime that I watch, but I loved this idea. After we stepped foot into the room, our professor was 2 feet in front of us.

“Oh, Ms. Madden! These photos are amazing. I recommend you intern with someone in order for you to become a professional fast! Oh, hello Mr. Mayan. I understand you two are in a hurry, but please, I would like to know if you have time after school to take pictures for my daughter and her fiancé for their, oh, ‘save the date’ cards.” Professor Conwell was a strange man. He always resorted to saying ‘Oh’ when he had nothing else to say. However, he cares about the passion that every student has for photography. We took my camera and made our way, with a pass, to the local park. Chaplin’s smile is a never ending shine as we walk. A dog was running around while its owner was throwing a frisbee. I lifted my camera to take a picture of a tree and Chaplin watched me.

“So, Ms. Madden. Have you realized that you have the highest marks in class?” He takes a picture of a rose with beaded water from the morning dew. Words wouldn’t leave my mouth to respond. A little girl ran past us as she chased a butterfly. Chaplin touched my shoulder, causing me to flinch.

“A little jumpy, I see.” He put the lens cap on his camera and took my hand. I tried pulling away, but he just grinned as he walked. “Calm down, can you do that? I know where we can go for some wonderful pictures and where you can chill.” His voice was calming. With a nod, I let him guide me. We soon ended up at the edge of a pond where 3 ducks swam peacefully. Chaplin got onto one knee and took the lens cap off the camera. I smiled, watching him focus so hard. He told me one day that he wanted to employ other photographers so that he could encourage other people. I always loved this idea. However, I knew I wouldn’t have the guts to do this. The ground wasn’t very mushy, but I still didn’t want to get on my knees.

I fixed my tie and looked around for a pleasant picture. My eyes settled on a blue flower that a red butterfly was settling on. I didn’t care about the fact that I could get dirty at this point and got onto one knee as I took the picture with extreme focus. Once the picture finished processing, my eyes sparkled as they inspected the picture. Chaplin looked over at my camera and stayed speechless. We had gone over our time limit of being able to stay out, so we had to return to school and clean classrooms. This wasn’t too bad for me, except it was because I wanted to go home. However, Professor Conwell said that we only had to clean 3 classrooms, since we were only 3 minutes past the curfew. I rolled up my sleeves and took off my jacket. After resting it on a chair, I got to work. Chaplin was doing the classroom that was next to the one I was working in. My music was blasting in my ears as the duster did its job.

I fixed my tie and looked around for a pleasant picture. My eyes settled on a blue flower that a red butterfly was settling on. I didn’t care about the fact that I could get dirty at this point and got onto one knee as I took the picture with extreme focus. Once the picture was finished processing, my eyes sparkled as they inspected the picture. Chaplin looked over at my camera and stayed speechless. We had gone over our time limit of being able to stay out, so we had to return to school and clean classrooms. This wasn’t too bad for me, except it was because I wanted to go home. However, Professor Conwell said that we only had to clean 3 classrooms, since we were only 3 minutes past the curfew. I rolled up my sleeves and took off my jacket. After resting it on a chair, I got to work. Chaplin was doing the classroom that was next to the one I was working in. My music was blasting in my ears as the duster did its job.

As my music continued playing, the thought of being able to go to my small studio apartment and edit all the pictures I’ve taken, crowded my brain. Some random people and some landscapes. My heart raced at the thought of this. There was a tap at my shoulder, which made my instinct pop! I whipped around and threw my fist. Before I knew it, there was a hurting Chaplin on the floor, holding his nose in pain. I dropped the broom and pulled out my earbuds. As the sound echoed from them as they fell to the floor, I too fell.

“Chaplin! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His laughing and a few sniffles interrupted me as I got scared of how badly I hurt him.

“I didn’t think you could actually punch. Or hurt anything. Wow.” He sat up and pointed to tissues that sat on the windowsill. My legs carried me over and back to him. There was an enormous blood puddle on the floor now. He stuffed the tissues into his nose and tilted his head forward. Since I couldn’t do anything, I rubbed his back, still feeling terrible. I looked at my knuckle and noticed the blood that was dripped all over the top. My hand reached for tissues as I wiped my -now stained- knuckle. Professor Lucks stood in the doorway in complete silence and shock. I stood and told him that nothing happened. He, of course, didn’t believe me.

“Why would you hurt this young man?” Lucks spoke in an accusing tone that stabbed my soul. Chaplin stood and waved his hand. He repeated he was fine, and that it was his fault, it was mine. We were supposed to be working together with cleaning the rooms, so keeping a single earbud in was probably the smarter decision. The professor sighed and grabbed Chaplin by the arm.

“You will not have detention this time, since I’m feeling generous.” He pulled the now confused Chaplin out of the room and down the hall. Once they were out of sight, I smacked myself across the face. Stupid. My phone rang, but I ignored it. I feel like a sack of crap. My legs are shaking as I leave the classroom with my blood-stained hands. The floor took me about an hour to clean. I wash my hands without looking in the mirror. And when I finally do, look in the mirror . . .I freeze. Who am I? I think to myself. When I finally walk out of the school and down the street, all my breath feels like it is going to explode inside of me.

By the time I get home, it is 4:50 p.m. Friday freedom; I mumble in my brain. My legs bring me to my room to change. After I brush my hair and take a nice long drink of ice cold water, I am ready to change into my casual clothes I wear when I’m not at school. Once finished, I grab my backpack with my camera, its stand, my computer and a few other things. I grab my keys and my phone, then bolt out of the door.

Initially, my idea was to go into the city to take pictures, but I chickened out and went to the park instead. After about 15 minutes of walking, I was finally there. A little girl's eyes lit up the second she saw me. She ran over, grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a girl that was reading as her hair blew through the wind.

“My sister says she isn’t pretty. I think she is, and she is in her state of mind right now, where she doesn’t know what is going on in the real world. My name is Judy, by the way! That’s my sister.” She pointed over to her sister, whom she told me was Rebecca. Rebecca was sitting cross-legged as she read a book. With her hair tucked behind her right ear, the rest blew in the wind. She was gorgeous! A gentle wind blew once again. I sat on the ground with Judy next to me. Politely — and quietly, might I add — I asked her to take out the small printer. This was maybe my second favorite tool, aside from my camera. The canon PIXMA, that I had bought with my very first paychecks from the restaurant that I worked at, worked like a charm. My finger pushed down on the silver-lined button on the top of the camera. It made a clicking sound that made me get goosebumps. Judy felt the small printer do its job as I turned off my camera.

“Here you go!” She said as she handed me the 8 x 8 picture. With a sharpie, I signed the back. Judy then took the photo from me with a smile and ran to her sister. I stood and returned my printer to my backpack. Both Judy and Rebecca began walking in my direction as I was standing, gathering my things to leave.

“I apologize for Judy’s behavior! I was distracting myself from her with my book accidentally.” She blushed a deep red. I slightly smiled and brushed my hair behind my ear.

“No. It’s fine. I actually needed something to take a picture of, anyway. And don’t worry, she was no trouble at all.” After I said this, it appeared I lifted through two hundred pounds from her and she breathed out calmly.

They had walked away. I was too. My legs had finally carried me over to a walkway that ran through the entire park. Running a hand through my hair, my eyes drifted ever so slightly to a couple that were laughing and giggling with each other. My heart beat faster, then I quickly walked faster to get them out of my view. I jumped slightly as I realized my phone was ringing in my pocket. Lifting it up to my ear, I played with the string around my neck.

“Hey.” A familiar voice spoke into my ear, as if he was right beside me.

“Hey Jonah.” I smiled and adjusted my hand. This is my best friend, Jonah Marais. We’ve known each other for about 4 years and, I’m being completely honest, he’s a great friend. He’s a bit of a dad friend, though.

“Where are you?”

“Exiting the park now. Why?” A yawn exited my body as he answered my question with one himself.

“Aren’t you wearing that outfit all the time?” He asks. I looked around to recognize this car on the street. I couldn’t see it, however. Jonah’s end went silent, then it beeped. He hung up on me? Then, suddenly, a car started zooming to the front entrance of the park. It was Jonah’s light blue mustang with double white stripes. Once I got close enough to him, he flipped off his dark sunglasses and grinned.

“Hey there stranger. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all alone. Need a ride?” He asked with a smile. I rolled my eyes and smiled at him. After placing my things in the trunk, I sat in the passenger seat. He told me how he needed pictures and that he didn’t know anyone else to call. I laughed at this, but then realized that he was serious. Jonah loves singing. He’s released albums he has released himself. I’ve taken most of the pictures too. My skills, however, have improved so they might have been terrible before. I apologize for this, Jonah. All the time. I think about it even when I’m not at school. Maybe it wasn’t good enough? What if he’ll never want me to do a photoshoot for him ever again? Am I really worthy of this occupation? Something pulled me out of my trance to a rushing pull forward.

Horns were honking left and right as I was just trying to figure out what was happening. I guess a guy had cut Jonah off and the guy was yelling at us. Jonah reached his hand over to me and pulled on my seatbelt.

“Good thing this was here.” He said while releasing a sigh. My mind was blank and I didn’t know what to do. A text popped onto my screen causing the screen to light up.

Mom: Delilah, could you bring eggs on your way home?

Me: Yeah mom, it just might be awhile since I’m with a client.

Mom: So?

Me: Mom, it’s the only way I can make money and keep my career going.

Mom: I don’t care, just get me the eggs when you can.

Me: Okay.

I turned off my phone and felt like I was going to cry. However, I didn't. Instead, a large amount of air left my lungs, causing me to cough. We pulled into a parking lot that had 4 other cars parked. Jonah looked to me and tilted his head.

“You okay?” He asked, taking the keys out of the ignition. My head bobbed like it weighed a thousand pounds. We both filed out of the car after he popped the trunk so that I could grab my backpack and camera. Before I could grab my backpack, Jonah snatched it from me and walked to the door.

“What a gentleman.” I mumbled, annoyed. We got to the door, and I pushed through after grabbing the giant backpack from him.

“We’re getting ice cream after.”

“But-”

“No exceptions. I’m not taking money from you. You should’ve seen this coming.” The words echoing in the white hallway made me stop speaking and instead focus on the pictures on the walls. Instead of focusing on the surrounding people, I looked at all the furniture, objects, and pictures. They were all unique in their own way, but I’m no one to talk about uniqueness. A cough brought me back to reality, and I spun around. There were five guys standing there. Jonah was at the end, with a wide but awkward smile. I looked at all of them and froze. I mumbled my favorite word: Corner. Jonah smiled and walked over to me and grabbed my arm, forcing me to wave.

“Guys, this is Dylan. She’s gonna help us.” He forced me to wave again. My brain went blank when he said ‘Dylan’. No one ever calls me that anymore. He let go of my arm and pointed to everyone. Jack. Curly hair. Daniel. Tall. Corbyn. Bleached hair. Zach. Weird outfit. I don’t mean weird outfit, just that it messed with my eyes. I told them all to get changed into what they were going to for the photoshoot. Once everyone changed, I asked what they had in mind. I figured everything out and tapped my nose to find out where everyone should sit. Jonah then remembered that they wanted to go to a certain place in the warehouse. So, I had to move all of my things . . .again. Now I had to figure out where everyone was going to sit.