Rose from His Ashes

There is no value in dying.

That's what I told myself every time I saw him waste away, drowning in alcohol and regrets. That's what I told myself when the weight of everything threatened to crush me. And yet, when I first heard her voice, whispering a quiet, desperate prayer to die, I almost believed she had a point.

The only thing that kept me sane was words. The ones I read, the ones I twisted, the ones I threw at people just to see how they'd react. And then there was her-Nadia, the new literature teacher, the only one who didn't just dismiss me as another lost cause. She had the kind of sharpness that cut in just the right places, the kind of presence that made people underestimate her until they realized she was always three steps ahead.

She started the literature club. Said it was a place for people who had something to say.

The club became something else entirely. A place where words were both refuge and ruin, where the broken came not to be mended, but to carve their scars into words. Mira, too soft for this world but still stubborn enough to stay. Selene, silent but seeing everything. Adam, pretending not to care but always listening. Elyas, the golden boy with secrets he'd rather bury. Kira, the Queen, watching us all like a predator sizing up prey. Nadia, looking down from her throne, amused at how predictable we were. And Lina, always meeting my gaze like she was waiting for me to strike first.

I should have known that fire like hers was bound to burn everything down.

I don't know when it started. When she stopped being just a game to me. When I realized that all the things I thought I hated about her were the very things that made me come back. But by then, it was too late.

Because in the end, there was fire.

But the thing about fire is that it doesn't just destroy. Sometimes, it leaves something behind.

And that's why she rose from my ashes.