The Girl Who Was Phoenix
She woke up to find ash in her hair, her fingernails, all over her body. She coughed violently. In her lungs too, apparently.
She stood up, aware of aches and pains all over her body, and wearily scanned the small room around her. At least, what appeared to be the sooty remains of one. Somewhere far-off she could hear Life going on as always, random noises drifting in through the broken windows.
But around her everything was silent. This used to be her world, she realised. Now it was gone. Life did not reach here anymore –- everything in here was dead. Except…
She looked down and saw that, despite the wreckage around her, she was unscathed. She was alive. A Life.
Slowly a smile spread across her lips. As long as there is life, there is hope. And as long as there is hope, there is something to fight for, something worth being a-Life for.
She started to clamber over debris and destruction, trying to reach a large hole in the wall. She pushed obstacles out of her way, clawing at the rubble still obscuring her passage to freedom.
Finally she broke through into the blinding light, rising out of the ashes.
And as she started to walk towards the future, she laughed.
Because that’s who I am, she thought. The girl who was Phoenix.
Written 17 May 2010. Originally posted on Buzznet.com