Phoenix

It was a pleasure to burn.

I froze in disbelief. Those six little words rung through my ears and swam gleefully around my page, savouring in my tension and discomfort. What were the odds of that phrase rearing its ugly head in my writing test? Beyond numbers, beyond possibility. And yet, there they were. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, warning me, taunting me. A tremor shot through my spine as my mind betrayed me. The memory unfolded like a film reel, flickering and fleeting, until it flooded my mind. That horrific day; the day my life went up in flames.

Birds twittered in the trees, as sunlight probed the branches. Neighbours waved to each other on the street and children played in the park. A picture perfect town, seemingly immune to all the stress of modern society; a town that seemed to have jumped right out of a real estate column. A family like any other; a mother, a father, a young boy and a teenage girl. A normal family. My family. My brother and I went to school like normal kids; we had the same problems with finding friends, dealing with homework and cliques. We acted like normal children. It was a fairly straight-forward, passable life in just another normal, straight-forward town.

Until it started.

They called it spontaneous arson. I called it the Dawn of Phoenix. It started small; an abandoned shack on the edge of the town, a deserted corner store. But then the targets became bigger and unfortunately, filled with living, breathing people. A grocery store owned by the sweet old couple down the street, the cars of the seniors at high school, even the school's demountable classrooms themselves. The town's buildings were going up in flames because of a serial arsonist that no one could catch.

But my family and I knew.

The police were desperate; they doorknocked every home, asking what they knew, if anything at all. My family stayed quiet, delaying the inevitable. We knew what was coming next. My family and I could never escape it.

Escape her. Phoenix.

In the following days, my life became less and less normal by the second. She was back, and sooner than I had anticipated. In other cases, I could plan for her, get ready for the Dawn. But she surprised us all. More buildings were set ablaze, more buildings that seemed to be getting personal; the house of the school bully, the mansion of the rich kid and the home of a teacher. The police didn't doorknock anymore; they barged into houses, innocent people's homes, demanding answers they would never get. One day, the anxiety pierced my stomach. The house across the street had just gone up in flames the other day and people were getting suspicious. Would they find her? Would they blame my family? I ran into my room and stared into my dresser's mirror, thinking about my sanity. Was it still intact?

"No." a voice said, startling me.

I jumped and stared at my reflection.

"Nope." my reflection said again. "You're insane."

"No," I whispered, scrambling backwards, away from the mirror, "No! I am sane!"

My reflection chuckled at my deranged cries.

"Listen to yourself. What sane person says that?"

I stared at the mirror, at my reflection. Why was it betraying me? Why was it starting to sound like-

And then my reflection turned into her; the person I had been dreading the most. It was Phoenix. I shrieked, and suddenly my mother was there, stroking my hair and patting my back. But nothing would calm me. Phoenix was coming and there was nothing I could do.

The next day started like any other; my brother and I went to school, and my parents went to work. But all day at school, I was on the fritz. It was like I was shot with a syringe full of caffeine. Every noise, every slam of a locker, every yell of a teacher, every squeak of a chair sent my nerves shaking. By the time I got home, my nerves were frayed and I just felt like falling asleep.