Who Is The Protagonist In 'Strange Pictures'?

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.

On the third day of our graduation trip, my childhood sweetheart finally agreed to take pictures of me. But after only a few minutes, she frowned in frustration and lowered her camera. "Not a single one looks good." A classmate looked confused. "How is that possible? Every picture you take of Ethan turns out great." It hurt to hear that, but I stayed silent. Mabel lowered her camera and looked at me. "Forget it. Let's not take any more. You're just not very expressive. No matter how I photograph you, you always look ordinary." After saying that, she casually stopped a girl by the roadside who was holding a camera. "Hi, could you take a few pictures of him for me? I'll come back and pay you later." Before the girl could even answer, Mabel grabbed her camera and ran toward Ethan. The moment she pointed the camera at him, her mood brightened again. "Turn around and lower your head a little. That's it. You look great..." I stood there quietly, watching how naturally the two of them worked together. Suddenly, I remembered asking Mabel a long time ago, "Why do you always make me look so good in your pictures?" Back then, she had smiled as she fixed my hair. "Because there's love behind the camera. When you love someone, every picture turns out beautiful." Now I finally understood. She didn't love me anymore. Mabel and I had originally applied to colleges in Northfield together. I quietly took out my phone and changed my application to a university in the distant city of Portwell.

Seeing nothing but the bare self of a girl in his kitchen, his thought suddenly went blank, even her grumbling stomach couldn’t get to him. A strange nude girl in his kitchen was something he hadn’t thought he would see in the next hundred years. She was weird, her long unraveled reddish brown hair was covering her face. Her body held, different old and new scars . And when she lift her eyes to look at him. The eyes was something he hasn’t seen before burning in flames. And a mixture of gold and blue. In a flash it swipe to deep sea blue eyes. The mop stick he held fell from his hands, leaving his mouth ajar. “Who are you?” He thought a thief had sneak in here, probably a food thief in his kitchen, but he ended up seeing something else. And she blinked her long and full lashes at him. Innocently. “Who the hell, are you?” He asked, his eyes running up and down her naked body again. He gulped down an invisible lump on his throat. What’s he gonna do? Her stomach growls. And she whined, giving him pleading eyes. He suddenly felt his knee went weak. “What are you doing here?” Was this some kind of nightmare, or what the hell was it?

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

Amaya started experiencing strange things since a strange boy was admitted in her school. Soon she realized that the boy came for her. But who is the boy? And what's the mystery about him?

Rose Melody Jacobs is a 21-year-old student at NYU. She lost her father at a very young age and it traumatized her. Her life was a simple bubble before his death popped it open. She finds Love in Sterling Hunter. A love-struck 24-year old that longs after the heart of Rose. He has never been normal and yet his closest attempt to trying to date Rose was to stalk her. He felt like he couldn’t ruin things from a distance and it was better that way. At first, the word “supernatural” made Rose burst out in fits of laughter, but after seeing it for herself; her whole perspective changed. Sterling Hunter, her imperfect boyfriend is a 100-year-old ghost from past. They try to make the relationship work but when other ghosts starts visiting them, including one of Sterling’s exes. It all starts to go to hell. Rose Melody Jacobs was looking for a mystery, and so fate brought her the biggest enigma of her life. Sterling Hunter. More secrets begins to unravel and Sterling begins to look more like a stranger every single day.