marythelamb
Like a phoenix I will rise above the ashes, I will fly to higher heights than ever before. I won't let this old, forgotten ash bury me. I won't let the weight of it keep me from flapping my wings. What is gone is gone and there's only the future to think of. I will fly as high as the sun, until the atmosphere gives way. Until I find myself again, recreated.
I watched as the earth creaked below us. A giant crack that was just growing larger and larger. I was on one side. My friends were on the other. I tried reaching over to them, tried calling their names. But they couldn't hear me, wouldn't take my hand. The crack widened and flames spewed out from the center of the earth. I gazed into it and saw all of my demons, my ghosts. I looked back up at my friends, who had continued forward, without me. And then I jumped in.
It was the middle of the night when I woke up, unexpectedly. The first thing I did was shoot a glance at the clock. But all the numbers were fuzzy and hard to make out. I squinted, but that didn't do anything for me. I sat up and walked over to my night stand. My glasses were sitting on top. I grabbed them and put them on. Ah, that's better. Everything looked perfect. I glanced at the clock again. It was 11:13. I strolled over to my tall window. Pulling apart the curtain, I could see that the sky was cloudy and menacing. There was a handful of stars peeking out from behind the clouds. But no night's first star. I sighed, slumping down onto the ground. No 11:11, no night's first star. I had missed them both again. Now how was I supposed to wish for my friend to be okay? I had yet to hear from her for three days, and I was afraid. Afraid she would do something to hurt herself. And I needed to use up my wish to help her. Or else... I didn't want to think about the alternatives. Maybe I could call her in the morning. But maybe, by then, it would be too late.
Does he see me? Does he even take notice that I'm alive, breathing the same air as him? Every single day, I pass by him. And he passes me by. He doesn't even look in my direction. I tuck my dry hands into my pocket and slip into the bathroom. Somehow, the dirty mirror doesn't reflect the me I think he sees. Either that or the mirror only lies. I took out a black, permanent marker and wrote on the mirror. In big, bold letters, I wrote, "It's nothing but a lie." And on the next mirror, I wrote, "Everyone lies. Always." I put the mirror back into my pocket, and my hand too. I walked back outside and passed him by. Just like every other day. And when I bumped into his shoulder, I think he finally saw me. But he didn't matter to me anymore. Because I was a new person. A new person that all of those lies made me out to be.