He stands there before them.
Skinned knees. Broken toys.
New to the world.
Too young. Too innocent.
He is surrounded by enemies adorning the friendliest of masks.
He feels content.
Friendly fun turns to friendly fire.
Their insults land like warm blood in fresh snow, slowly sinking, leaving craters in their wake.
Taken all he can, he falls to the ground.
Engulfed in a blaze set by those he once held so dear, he is numb.
He lies there, barren.
His once glowing tan skin has turned a dismal gray.
The light in his green eyes, blown out.
His enemies stand before him, masks torn off.
Grins of accomplishment stretch ear to ear.
His gray skin begins to crack and crumble like the desert floor.
Pieces of ash like skin wisp away from his body.
The light in his eyes, once blown out,
Now set ablaze.
He gets to his feet.
Gazing into the eyes of his mistaken choice of kin, he smiles.
It was not their friendship he needed,
but the confidence to stand alone.
A single word rolls off his tongue.
"Thankyou"
His smile breaks into a laugh.
He turns his back to them and leaves, flicking bright red embers off his heels as he walks away.
The Phoenix has risen.
