I was using my all. My strength, my power, my heart, and all those convincing words. I knew where I was going exactly, Camp…Well, I’ve been there so many times I can’t even remember. When I got that feeling that I’m going to grow wings I 1) Have to leave and 2) Have to get to Camp what’s-its-name. I’m running all fast and stuff, like I’m showing off to nature. All I say is, the trees are impressed. Soon, I see the campground, and I jump. Yes, I’m going that fast. I run to the ripped green tent, where I first got my wings. Here we go again. “Hey guys! Phoenix is back!” I hear all my best guy friends shouting out to the rest of the camp. “Owwwww! My back hurts again! Go! Get Draco!” I screamed so loud that the ex-boyfriend that made my first mutation ran out almost immediately.
“Oh god…” He grabbed my hand and we sprinted over to the tent. “How long has it been?”
“About…15 years.”
“He He, New record.”
“Shut up!”
I rolled my eyes. Oh Drake. “So, what you get named this time?”
“Courtney Grace Fitz-Patrick. It’s German, I think.” He just sat there, smiling. I cut into his mind; we were alone, I was in his arms. “I love you” I heard him whisper. “I heard that Draco!” He snapped out of it. “Uh, awkward! Ok, lets get started.”

I took off my jacket and turned around. He got out the tools. “Remember, it hurts less this way.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, just do it.” He was going to cut two marks in my back, were my wings would go. He pulled my thick hair back, and I closed my eyes. “Ready?”
“JUST FRICKIN’ DO IT ALREADY!”
“Ok! Sweet god, you’re so impatient.”

Just as I felt the blade touch my skin I exploded. The fiery wing knocked him over. “Quick! Out of the tent!” I ran outside. Everyone like me that I knew and loved watched as my wings sprang to life in a beautiful explosion of fire. Draco gasped. “Well, no wonder your name is Phoenix!” Oh Draco, the smart-alec. “No freaking’ duh Draco, no freaking’ duh.” Take that.
“No, I mean look at yourself! Check out your hair, and your wings!”

I flew down to see my best friend Ozzy holding a huge mirror. “Holy sweet hell!”
My hair was like fire, actually, it was on fire. I pulled my hair back. Not burning… I started to open my wings. “Wait, Phoenix no!” “What?” “If you open your wings here the whole camp will catch on fire!” “Oh yeah, right….” I quickly closed my wings. “I’ll bring you up.” He grabbed me by the waist and we flew up.

We flew about 500,000 ft into the air. “Hey look! Mount Everest!” We both laughed. “Hi God!” What happened after that? See above. “Wow, the view is so beautiful!” “It’s so ro…” “Don’t say it!” He put his poker face on. “You ready?” “JUST DO IT!” “Yeesh!” Almost immediately, I dropped. In a spli second, I opened my wings and flapped. I looked at them. They were a midnight black, practically on fire. Time to fly.

It was beautiful. The look in his eyes that always makes me fall for a second, the fiery wings that I’ve always missed, the view from the atmosphere, it’s all to much to take in.
We flew around the world in about a minute.
“Phoenix”
“Yeah?”
“Want to set that bird on fire?”
“Nope.”
“You want to…turn that squirrel into an Iron Squirrel?”
“I know you stole that from MAD!”
“You want to…”

That was Drake for you. He does the same thing that I do, except he leaves earlier, and he doesn't keep contact. Plus he watches way to much TV, also. He’s always wanted me back since I broke up with him. But, the only reason I did was because boys were the ones who got me into this mess. I felt it. It was time to go face that giant dirt ball you call a planet. It was time for me to go, time for me to go off and get myself killed. Again.
“Well Draco I have to go now.”
“Keep contact Okay?”
“Fine.”
“Love you..”
“Shut up already!”
I slapped him in the face, just like I always do. Ah, good times, good times.
“Well, see you in fifteen years!”
“Fly safely!”
I was so far away that I had to yell. “Silence is golden, Duct Tape is silver!”
I looked back one more time and what I saw, it was traumatizing. He stopped flapping his wings, and dropped.

My heart stopped.
I watched as he plunged into pure earth, holding my breath. He soon caught himself buy a tree branch and gave me a thumbs-up. I smiled and flew away. I first decided to stop by on of my old homes. I started to remember my old name.
“Kate. Your name is Kate.”
I stopped by a nearby river to call them.
I waited for a moment then my old mother picked up.
“Hello?” I smiled.
“Mom? It’s me, Kate.”
“I can’t believe you’re still alive!”
“It’s complicated. Well I was wondering if I could stay at your place for a while. “
“To stay?”
“I can’t stay that long, but I need a place to stay.”
“I still kept your room the same because I new you’d come back!”
Then I heard some voices in the background.
“Mom, who’s that?”
“Luke? Mark? Oh my god hi! It’s me Kate! I’m coming home for a while!”
“Awesome! Where are you?”
“I have no idea! I’ll be home soon. Bye!”
I hung up. I couldn’t wait to get there. I looked around for the old backpack I had left here so long ago. I left it behind a rock. I started to open the blue checkered backpack, nervous as hell. I looked inside. Nope, everything’s in here. I got out the mirror that I always loved. I looked in it and saw how old I looked. I tried to remember how long it’s been, for them it’s seven. Whenever I am reborn time freezes so I only had to look 14, and yes, I was that young.
I switched backpacks and took off. I wasn’t that far away from my home in New Mexico, but it was a few miles. I circled the big white house I called home and flew down. I knocked on the door and flapped . It was time to reveal my secret.

You probably wanna know what happens next, right? But I’m gonna tell you first about my old friend Spike. Spike was a kid at our school, an outcast, an emo almost. He didn’t talk much. He had his own table at lunch since he never had any friends. He wasn’t part of any crowd; everyone ignored him. No one saw any life in him. I guess he was a Goth. He wasn’t accepted. Yet, Goths are all about acceptance.

He was always dressed in black, with the darkest hair and eyes. He hated life, knowing that someday everything will decay with no life or resurrection. He sat at the back of the classroom, using the back desk almost as a pass-it-on journal asking other kids to reply, and they do, asking questions about the meaning of life. One day I’ll beat them to it and write the first response, asking to hang out or something.

He’s always in the shadows; nobody stays around him because everyone kind of fears him. He could practically rip someone in half with his bare hands, that’s why. I’ll find him in the dark corner of the black top, writing in a notebook, reading a book about history or listening to swearing rap music. It’s funny because I’d do the same thing. How Ironic. And you may not believe it, but the thing is, he’s just my type.

Here’s where the twist comes; Spike thinks the same way I do. I checked out the back desk and he writes so well and so passionately that he could win an award for graffiti on a desk. He writes about how he wants to make friends and get noticed, but he doesn’t know how. He writes about his longing for someone to trust, how the popular kids are way over-rated, expressing his feelings about the meaninglessness of life, his point of view about politics and religion, you name it. After class I walk up to the back desk and write: “meet me at the back door during recess tomorrow”.

After lunch the rock comes; it was time to go to recess. I’m just wearing my usual, skinny jeans, aero t-shirt, Converse, a black hoodie and a spike belt. I walked up to the back door, leaned up against the door and turned on the most explicit song I had on my iPod. Way loud.
He walked up and gave a half smile. I took out my ear buds. He turned around and walked away. THAT’S NICE.
“What?”
He turned back around. “If you were going to ask me out you coulda just wrote it on the desk.”
“And what makes you think that I, out of all people, would ask you out?”
“Well, I guess you’d think that I needed someone like that!”
“Well, do you? ‘Cause I was just going to ask to be friends because yo…”
“You’re kinda my type. ” we both said at the same time. There’s the half smile again.
“Woopty freakin’ doo…”
“Meh…”
“Exactly.”

After that day we became friends, and then, well you know the rest, don’t you? Crap. I haven’t told you about the first cycle. Ok, sit down and get comfy, this’ll take a while.

So here's the basics.
When I was born I was given the blessing of living until I lived a full, meaningful life. This is pretty much the reason why I was named Phoenix.

One day, when I was around seven, my parents got divorced and I was left with my father, Demetrius.

He started to abuse me, forcing me to work alongside the slaves. After working for him for 3 months, I went in to the field and killed myself, knowing that I would be reborn I another woman's womb.

After what seemed like a day, I was fully grown, and I was now 13 in this lifetime, 21 overall.
I can't even keep track of how many cycles I had, but next, I'm gonna tell you about how I can fly.