The Phoenix

February 9th
The vivid light seared my eyes. The rays penetrated my body. I wanted to move. Curl up in a ball or cry. But I couldn't. I couldn't breathe. All I could think of was the immense pain. I cry exited my lips. With a boom, the light blinked out and I dropped to the ground in exhaustion. What on earth had just happened to me. I felt like a fried piece of chicken. A humming was in my ears. I tried to open my eyes. But I couldn't. The panic built until it strangled me.

I shot straight up in bed. My breath was stuck in my throat. I let out a choked sob. In order to calm my pounding heart, I laid my hands against the scratchy comforters and moved them back and forth gently. Almost immediately, the humming started in my ears again. The fuzz on the blanket started to stand straight up around my hands. I whimpered and pulled my hands away. This was such a stupid thing; this power. I didn't even understand it. Electricity? Energy? Healing? Two years ago and I still had nightmares about my time spent in the warehouse. The pain. The confusion. The fear.

No. No I cant think about this. It's not healthy for me. Wrapping my arms about myself, I glanced at the clock. It read 6:10. You can never get started too early I suppose. So, shoving the blankets off of me, I got ready for school. My face was still bright red from the tears I had shed last night. After changing into my simple sweatshirt and jeans, I stood by the door. It didn't sound like my parents were awake yet. Hopefully I would be able to sneak out.

I picked up my backpack from beside the door and swung it over my shoulder. Then, very quietly, I nudged the door open. I didn't hear anything. Creeping down the hallway on light feet, I listened for my parents.

When I got to the kitchen, I tugged the fridge open. There wasn't much food. But I grabbed a banana and cup of fruit. After silently shutting the refrigerator, I snuck to the front door. It was almost unlocked when I heard a gruff voice.

"Clio. What are you doing?"

My dad. I took a breathe and turned around. "Um, I thought I would um, leave early?"

He stood unsteadily from the couch and walked over to me. When he was in front of me, his eyes seemed to bore into my soul.

"Fine. But I heard you gave your mom trouble last night. So if you give her trouble again, you'll get it worse. Got it?"

"I- I got it..."

He nodded. "Have a good day."

"Thanks." I turned quickly and slipped out the door. After pulling my hood over my messy hair, I quickly headed to the bus stop. I didn't feel like having to explain to Aunt May why I had cried all night.

When I reached to faded red stop sign, my hands slipped into my pocket and a drew out a shiny shard of paper. After my mother had ripped up the magazine, I had tucked the remains of the magazine in my desk drawer. But I had brought a slip with me. It had one of Mr. Stark's quotes.

"Mr. Stark, what would you tell your fans if you could encourage them to do what the love."

"To hell with whatever people say you can't do. It's your life. It's what you will be doing. Not them. Don't let them hold you back. Don't wait. Just get on with it."

My shoulder dropped slightly. If only. I wanted to be a mechanic more than anything. But I never could be one. Not with my parents.

"Clio! There you are!" Peter's voice came from down the sidewalk.

I shoved the paper in my pocket, put on a brave smile and pulled my sleeves over my hands.

"Hi Peter."

"What's wrong." He reached my side. "May was worried when you didn't show up."

"Oh I just wanted to get out earlier. Get some air."