A Collection of Stories

Phoenix

     It's 8:03 in the morning, and I'm getting impatient as I pull into the school parking lot. I bounce my legs in nervous anticipation, and my car screeches to a stop when I swing into my parking spot. My battered vehicle groans as I cut the engine. I have to see her. My heart pounds wildly and a smile cracks across my face as I step out of my car and into the blistering August heat. I speed towards the wide double doors, ripping them open. She'll come to school around 8:08, just before the warning bell rings, I remember as I'm searching wildly for her. 8:06. Two minutes.    

     I have been obsessed with Opal McKinley since she moved in next to me our sixth grade year. Maybe it was her blue-stripped hair or her sharp green eyes that seemed to pierce you like knives. Maybe it was the way she sneered at her evil step-mother in quiet rebellion as she gushed over the neighborhood and her swollen belly that carried Opal's new sibling. I remember watching her emerge from the moving van with a teal halo, dozens of silver bracelets dangling on her delicate arms, and beaten all-star converse with scribbles all over them. As her new step-mom babbled about how exciting the move was, Opal glared and dug the tip of her all-stars into the dirt.

     I watched all of this with quiet fascination. Opal was beautiful beyond measure and her spunky, rebellious nature caught my attention immediately. My life was boring- and still is- and her coming into my life changed everything. I spent the rest of my days watching the evolution of Opal McKinley from my window.

     In school she was mostly ignored; a lot of people thought she was strange. I however, thought she was incredible. I never approached her; she actually scared me senseless. She had sharp features, her hair always tangled with blue strands hanging all around her face. She had 3 piercings in one ear, and wore ripped jeans. As a twelve year old boy, I was terrified. I also thought we could have never been friends. I couldn't keep up with her constant adventures and would probably just bore her to death. Unlike Opal, I had no amazing qualities, no blue hair or piercings; I was quite un-extraordinary. My only hobby was loving her.

     When high school rolled around,
I managed to speak twenty-three words to her. Twenty-three. Most where shy  "heys" exchanged in the hallways and "what was the homework in Algebra?" I didn't care one bit, I got to hear her perfect voice. High school was good to Opal. She grew into herself. She got rid of the blue and substituted it for a cherry red. She had a total of 13 piercings, if you counted her nose and lip rings. She went through 7 pairs of converse between sixth and eleventh grade, all ranging in color. Opal was wild and her mind wandered, because she was often late to school. She usually came at 8:08, huffing in annoyance if her backpack straps slipped off her pale shoulders as she busted in the doors. She never had any friends, she kept to herself and mostly talked to her younger brother, who was born four months after they moved in next door. Opal was rebellious, often sneaking out or spitting profanities at her step-mother, whom she despised. She didn't listen to her father either. But she was also smart; she didn't do drugs of drink alcohol. There was a sadness to Opal, though. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but it was there. A darkness that loomed over her green eyes. She became more beautiful than I could have ever imagined was possible. But the most unique thing about her wasn't her hair, or her piercings, or her eyes or shoes; it was her tattoo.

     Opal had a Phoenix on her shoulder. She got it done for her sixteenth birthday. It was large, it took up her whole right shoulder. It's beak started just at her hairline, and it's body was curved with gold, red, and orange. The wings folded at her shoulder blade, and it's tail feathers reached the middle of her back. You could see it best when she wore tank tops, which was a lot. I had imagined many times what it would feel like to run my fingers over its wings, envisioning them spreading and the Phoenix taking flight from her back. But I would have to talk to her first for that to ever come close to  happening.

     So here I am, a senior in high school, and it's 8:08, and I'm waiting on Opal McKinley to arrive at school so I can talk to her. Really talk to her. Show her I was made for her. Students started to file around me into their classrooms. I waited, feet glued to the floor under my locker. I stared at the double doors, searching for her red hair and the glint of sunlight that bounced off her lip ring as students poured in from outside. The warning bell busted through the commotion, a shrill sound calling you to class. I wouldn't go until I found Opal and talked to her. 8:15. Five  minutes until class started. My stomach churned as I gritted my teeth in anticipation. Why wasn't she here? She wasn't usually this late. Two girls shuffled past me, trudging towards their class. "Did you hear?" one of them questioned the other, concern masking her face. Her friend gasped. "About Opal McKinley? Yeah. I can't believe it. Mom told me about it this morning. Apparently she jumped off the bridge on Dare road. A suicide. Dead instantly I thi-." They kept walking away with glum looks, their voices fading out as I clutched my locker for support.

     The room started to spin. What? What? My mouth opened in utter horror. No, no... no! That can't be true, I would've known! Blood rushed to my ears and I heard Opal's name in a few more conversations around me. My body slumped more and more every time I heard the words "suicide" and "jumped". Then I took off sprinting.

     Dare road. Dare road. I knew where that was. My dad and I used to go to the river directly under Dare road to fish. The river was wide and filled with rapids, dangerous to anyone that got too close. Opal. Opal got too close. My knuckles gripped the steering wheel with strength I didn't know I possessed and my foot was rammed down on the gas, my foggy memory leading me to Opal.

     Dare road was clogged with people and vehicles. People in wet suits, divers I assumed, where searching the water. Searching for my Opal. My stomach lurched and I stopped the car to fall out of the drivers seat and I vomited all over the hot tar. After my stomach emptied itself, I started stumbling to where the cops, rescue team, and medical teams where clustered. I heard murmurs of what happened as I walked farther down the bridge. A man taking the road to work saw her jump; she jumped from the rails. He said it was no accident. That Opal jumped as high as she could and spread her arms out, like she would take flight. The people on the bridge didn't even notice me when I got closer, they were all too focused on what the divers where pulling out of the water. Not what. Who.

     Opal's body was pulled onto the bridge by the divers. I could've screamed. The girl I love is dead. She's dead and I'll never get to run my fingers through her red hair or ask her what her tattoo meant. I'll never get to tell her how utterly amazing she is. WAS. Water sloshed from her clothes and hair, running all over the hot road like thick blood. One of her converse was missing. It seemed something had been nibbling on her foot, chucks of pale skin were hanging off her toes. Her face was white, so white I could see that the veins in her forehead were bulged out, like she hit the water so hard it popped blood vessels in her face. Her lips where blue and parted, exposing a tongue leached of all its usual red color. Her green eyes where staring into space, not moving. Red veins crawled up the whites of her eyes, making her them look as if they were bleeding. Her neck and body laid at an unnatural angle, her shirt torn; her back exposed.

     I started to cry. The tears rushed out of my eyes like the water rushed out of her body. Unstoppable. The summer sun glared on her body like a harsh spotlight. The bright gold of the Phoenix blazed brightly. The whole Phoenix was visible, it's colors creating a scary contrast on her skin. While the skin on the rest of her body was white and drained, the Phoenix was as bright and beautiful as ever, almost glittering. My muffled cries where joined by those of her parents and brother, and some of the members of the rescue team. Everyone was too stunned to move her body. We all stared in horror as Opal's skin sizzled in the heat. I gaged, my knees giving out as the last of the water drained from her, her empty chest slumping in. As I crumpled to the ground, the Phoenix started to move.

     In that moment, I was so crazed I was sure I was the only one seeing it. But as I stared at her, my Opal, her tattoo started to lift from her body. The Phoenix lifted its head and wiggled its wings, unsticking itself from its previous place on her shoulder. Its feathers glistened with a new clarity, and it's black eyes narrowed on me. I sucked in air, willing myself to breathe. As the medics picked Opal up off the ground, the Phoenix spread its wide wings, and in one graceful movement, it flew away from Opal and into the sky.

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Written by RedRoses818