Deep Roots

Chapter Five

Phoenix

The silhouette of Lynn swishes her silver hair as she climbs up the stairs. I recall her grey-blue eyes flashing with confusion when I said my name. Despite not being in Spirit, I knew what she was thinking, what everybody thought; isn't that a boy's name?

"It's unisex!" I call out to her as she slides up the staircase, her hand gripping the banister tightly. She freezes as the words reach her ears, it was only for a heartbeat, but I still noticed it. Then she climbs further, and I can no longer see her as the stairs begin to curve into their elegent spiral.

Yes, Phoenix can be a boys name. But it can be a girls as well. My parents named me the after the firebird because it is supposed to represent 'courage' and how I 'fail to give up' yet I seem to be the total opposite of that; a coward.

A hand presses down on my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts and turning my blood to ice. My heart begins to thrum against my chest like a bird repetitively pecking against a block of wood. I feel dizzy as I spin around, and my horrors are confirmed to be true.

Willow.

Hazel eyes stare at me. No, not at me, through me. Their intensity is unreal; green, gold and brown swirling around as if they are worshipping the pupil. Her skin has a light tann, with a faint hint of olive-tone. Not a single blemish or imperfection showing on her smooth face. Her brown hair is in perfect locks, styled and curled to the limit to make it look the best it could be. Every bit of Willow's face is perfectly portioned, small nose, big eyes and plump lips. Her appearance is so perfect it almost makes me think she is nice, but I know, behind the beauty, lies a heart of stone.

I am rigid with shock, I knew it was going to happen; but this quickly? It had only been an hour! I am starting to breathe heavily, expecting a slap to the face anytime now.

"Faye Earl?"

Her cold voice reaches my ears before I process the words. She had... spoken to me? What happened to the inaudible squealing and a good kick to the shin? My mind begins to churn as I fully understand her words.

"It's Phoenix Ellerby... actually?" My statement comes out of my mouth like a question. She was actually making me question my own name.

"Oh, sorry Nixie, darling..." she says, her voice purring like a cat.

"Just Phoenix, thanks." I say stiffly, trying to hide my irritation. I know I'm not popular, but how hard is it to learn my name?

"Anyway, have you seen... someone lately?" She spoke smoothly, but I notice a faint twinge of annoyance coated under her soft tone.

"Which someone would that be?" my intentions for a calm, matching tone failing as my discomfort begins to show. I know she is winding me up the wrong way, but I can't help it.

"Grey hair, grey eyes, grey everything. Girl, average height, alright looking." She was ticking off the description as she went. Her eyes though, still boring into me.

I felt a jolt in my stomach.

She is talking about Lynn.

"N-no?" I splutter the words out a bit quicker than I originally hoped for. Willow's eyes flash with annoyance, than she turns and stalks off.

Taking deep breaths to calm my nerves, I stare at the perfect image before I can no longer see her. My hands began to shake, I had dodged a massive bullet there. Did she even know I had talked to Titan? I let out a shuddering sigh at how close I was to a good beat up. I stand there, letting a few minutes slip before I realise I am standing in the middle of the lobby. Not daring to face the torture of lying in my bed for a few hours, I turn around and escape into the cool, night air.

The chilly wind presses against my skin, causing goosebumps to erupt on my flesh. I hug myself as if to protect myself from those harsh hazel eyes that are seared in my memory. I feel my feet firmly press against one of the roots of the tree while I scan my surroundings. The clumps of small trees spread across the landscape remind me of my childhood.

A child here, you see, is born in a very different way. When two lovers have the desire to have a daughter or a son, they ever so gently cut open there hand to create a small blood flow. They go out into the woods and find the strongest tree they can. Once they have they both place their cut hands against the rough bark. The courage and the will to do such a thing creates a spark. This spark gives the tree a child to look after. The young girl or boy grows up with the tree as its protection; the tree providing fruit for food, leaves for bedding and soft whispers full of stories to provide entertainment for the long nights and days. When the signs of magical abilities are apparent, the child leaves their tree to face the real world.

How I wish I could go back to those days.

The days where I hadn't had a doubt that I would be in water. Where I didn't have to worry about Willow and her constant threats, and no struggles of people forgetting my name. Days full of fun; secrets and stories and hiding under the canopy of shady leaves. The grass beneath my toes. Everything was wonderful.

I know though, that whatever remains in the past, stays in the past.

I can never go back.