Would You Believe Me?

CHARLIE

When you're an orphan kid who has anger issues, learning where you belong is tough. Well, if you're Charlie Alexander, that is. Charlie is a fiery ginger standing at 6"1. She's an underground fighter, and she doesn't take crap from anyone. You piss her off and she'll gift you with a black eye.

"Charlie, you gotta get home. You've been working your ass off all night." Said Colton, her close friend. Charlie laughed and put on her t-shirt on over her tank top, shaking her head.

"Worked MY ass off? You should've seen those guy's faces! They couldn't handle what I gave em'." She giggled, her green eyes sparkling with fiery passion.

"You look like you slayed a dragon, now c'mon." He chuckled, standing up and brushing off his shirt.

"Fine, fine, let's go." She said with a huff, slinging her duffel bag onto her shoulder. They slowly trudged their way out of the abandoned subway, where the fight club took place. Eventually, Charlie made it home.

"Alright, Colton! I'll see you later. I gotta get inside and sleep, I feel like a sack of potatoes." Charlie chuckled.

"A sack of potatoes? Really? You sound like some southern mom." Colton teased, making Charlie laugh and snort.

"Shut up! I'm tired." She shoved him playfully before turning and walking up the steps of her apartment. "I'll see ya tomorrow, goodnight!" She said with a wave.

Colton waved back with a smile before turning and walking away. Charlie walked up the stairs to her room, then inside. She sighed in relief as she closed her door, then turned her lights on. Her apartment looked a bit like a gym. It had weights, punching bags, and tons of other things to work out with. She also had a bit of medical supplies for injuries she endured. (No one really knew, but she was a wonderful medic.)

After undressing out of her sweaty work out clothing, she took a shower. Afterward, she grabbed a simple rock band t-shirt and shorts, then climbed into them. Then, she immediately climbed into bed and went to sleep.

But destiny had other plans.

Around 3 AM, her smoke alarm went off. She sat up drowsily before snapping awake. She scrambled out of bed, running out into the hallway. Smoke was everywhere, and she had to put her shirt over her mouth just to breathe slightly better.

I need to get out of here.

She thought to herself, racing towards the stairs. Just before she reached the end of them, she heard a little girl call for help. She turned around, spotting a small child wandering through the flames and debris.

Her eyes widened in shock before she shook away her surprise. She raced over, picking the girl up and running towards the exit.

"Help! Has anyone seen my daughter, Karen? Please, somebody help me!" A woman yelled, looking around in the crowd of people outside. Charlie was almost there! When she made it to the door, she heard an unsafe creak run through the wood above her. She threw Karen outside just as the door collapsed in on itself.

She was trapped. She had no where to run, and the smoke was getting thicker by the minute.  Her knees became heavier, and her lungs began to burn. She ran around, looking for exits, but found none. She couldn't break the windows, and the doors had collapsed. Going back upstairs would only greet her with more flames.

She sighed, her knees buckling under her. She was beginning to feel lightheaded, and couldn't think straight. Her body fell over, and the last thing she saw were the flames of the building closing in on her.

An hour later, the fire had been put out completely. Firemen had searched the home, but found no trace of Charlie Alexander. Some say she fled, some say she was never there. Yet a little girl claimed a red headed girl saved her from the flames.

A pile of ash sat near the entrance, unmoving. A hand shot out of it, then pulled itself up. Slowly and slowly, Charlie clawed her way out of the ashes, coughing. She stood, covered in soot. When she looked up, she saw herself in a mirror that survived the collapse.  In it, she saw herself. Alive and well.

Her hair seemed to be alive, moving and flickering. She yelped, realizing it was fire. She patted her head over and over, trying to put out the flame, but it didn't relent. When she realized it wasn't hurting her, she ran her hand through it, putting it out immediately, and leaving only her normal red hair behind.

She looked at herself in the mirror again, breathing heavily. She had died and been born again from the ashes, like a Pheonix. And at that moment she knew, it was time to fly.