Phoenix Montgomery

The dreams were always the same. I woke up in a dimly lit bedroom. To my left was a fireplace slowly burning out. To the right were double French doors, slightly ajar, sheer curtains fluttering from the night breeze, showing glimpses of a balcony and beyond that, a sea, the moon spilling in was the only source of light, pure and white. Soft scents of jasmine and lavender were being blown in, mixed with the smells of the fireplace, and a lingering odor of musky colognes. Slowly, my attention would turn to the door in front of me. Before I looked at it, it seemed to not even exist. Suddenly, I would start to feel trapped and scared, as if I stayed in this room something bad would happen, but the sheets and blankets were so warm and I was so tired... My eyes would begin to close and the moment I drifted back to slumber the door would open and two blurry figures appeared, both calling my name, both sounding like they were pleading with me, but I couldn't answer because I was being pulled helplessly into darkness.

The dreams were always the same...

Except this one.

This one started the same as the others, the fireplace, the balcony and sea, the scents, they were all the same, except this time, the door was slightly ajar. The usual sense of doom I felt when I saw the door turned into an overwhelming sense of curiosity and I swung my legs over the side of the bed, preparing myself to finally escape the bedroom. My feet touched the hardwood floor, and it was pleasantly warm. Upon standing I noticed for the first time that I was wearing a pale pink chiffon nightgown. It reached to my mid-calves and felt thin as air.

Slowly, I walked toward the door. Warm yellow light was flowing through the crack, giving me the idea of torches in a castle hallway. I reached a pale hand to the brass doorknob; it, too, was warm when I was expecting cold, as if someone else had just touched it. Now my curiosity was boiling over, so I quickly opened the door. The hallway was disappointingly plain. The same wood that was in the bedroom lined the floor and the walls were a simple white, dotted intermittently by sconces containing fake candles.

The moment I stepped completely into the hallway the door behind me gently shut. Trying the door handle was only met with a doorknob that wouldn't turn. It was locked. I turned back to face the hallway, and inhaled deeply. As I released my breath I thought, I suppose there's no going back now, and began quietly walking toward my unknown destination.

After a few minutes of walking, I noticed that whenever I passed a sconce its light would go out. I looked behind me and could only see darkness, as if the hallway had disappeared entirely. My curiosity turned into fear and I began running, almost unable to keep up with the lights that were still on. The hallway seemed to never end, and the lights were going out faster and faster, and I was beginning to move slower and slower. The dream was turning into a nightmare and I just wanted to scream, but then...

Another door.

I only hesitated for a breath's moment, just long enough to turn and see the darkness menacingly encroaching upon me. I threw the door open and was met with white.

It was blinding.

I blinked and blinked for what seemed like hours until finally my vision started clearing and the room I was in was drastically different than the bedroom. It was a large warehouse room, and somehow it was now daytime. There was nothing in it aside from pillars supporting the ceiling. The floor was a

dark gray concrete, and the windows were large and allowed bright sunshine to pour in. Beyond them, the sky was a brilliant blue, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The view on the all sides allowed even more glimpses of the sea. It looked as if someone had filled it with diamonds, it was so bright under the sun. I was so distracted by the deep blue water that I didn't even notice the two people who had their backs turned to me.

They were both men, both dressed in the same white slacks and loose, white, slightly sheer tops. The man on the right was tall, black, shaggy hair shining like beautiful obsidian in the light, milky skin gleaming sensually, and he seemed more serious than the other. The man on the left was ever so slightly shorter, and his hair was straight and the color of dark espresso. 

Fear and powerful desire both hit me at once and I subconsciously reached a hand out to them. It fell short when they began to turn toward me, they were both saying my name, they both had the same pleading tone...

Before I could see their faces, I woke up.

…

The first day of school also happened to fall on my 18^th birthday; lucky me, right? I suppose it didn't really matter, considering my other seventeen birthdays were as uneventful as a school day. The only one that was semi-interesting was my 13^th birthday when my dad decided to rent a bouncy house. That would have been fine if he had checked the forecast, but he's a dad and dads don't do things like that, so about an hour after it was all set up and 15 minutes after all the guests had arrived it started storming, like wind gusts of up to 60 mph storming and strong enough to blow a bouncy house two blocks away onto the Target parking lot, storming. That birthday was pretty memorable, the others... not so much.

As per usual on any of my birthdays, my parents prepared my favorite breakfast items, including 3 chocolate chip pancakes, some muffins, and a couple pieces of French toast. It was a lot to eat, but I like food... and I was also bitter about having to start school on my birthday, so ate I did. My mom and dad stared in astonishment as I forked pieces of pancake and french toast in my mouth at the same time, while also taking a large swig of coffee. I just looked at them and made a gesture that suggested, “This isn't the first time you've seen me eat like a pig.”

Finally 7:30 AM rolled around and I stood up from my chair like a pregnant woman because of my food baby and I almost wished I hadn't ate so much. Almost. I waddled to the bathroom to check my appearance one last time. My dark brown hair was trailing down my back; it was so long it almost reached my . Without effort it curled at the ends and I was extremely grateful for that because I got to sleep for an extra 15 minutes. I usually didn't wear any makeup at all because I liked the smattering of freckles across my face, but today I put on some foundation, blush, and mascara. As per usual, I filled in my eyebrows. My outfit was simple enough, black jeans and a dark gray oversized T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and pair of plain white shoes. The whole thing topped off with hopelessly chipped black nail polish. I sighed, beginning to feel anxious about the first day of senior year... or maybe I just ate too much... either way my stomach was hurting.

My mom appeared in the doorway and smiled warmly at me. She and I shared the same light green eyes, freckles, and small, upturned nose. Her hair was bright orange, extremely curly, and frizzy whereas mine was just a bit wavy and smooth. We shared the same height at 5'4, which I was glad about because my dad was an insane 6'6.

“You look beautiful, sweetie,” she said, twirling a strand of my hair around her thin finger.

I opened my mouth and almost said, “No, I don't, you're just saying that,” but instead I said, “Thanks, mom, I got it from you.”

She started laughing and ruffled the back of my hair, just as my dad stepped in the doorway as well. He laughed his booming dad laugh and added, “What about me? I helped make you too!”

I immediately stopped dabbing on lipstick to give him a death glare and say, “Okay, this just got weird. I need to go to school now, thanks.” I slipped past them both, rushing to the kitchen to grab my backpack while shaking my head in an attempt to forget the traumatizing words I just heard. Looking at my watch I saw that I was actually running slightly late, so instead of hugging them goodbye and listening to how great I would do I simply yelled, “Bye! See you guys later! Love you!”

…

I arrived at my school's increasingly full parking lot at 7:45, 15 minutes before my first class was supposed to start, and contemplated killing myself via carbon monoxide poisoning. I just really didn't want to be here. I mean, it was my birthday for crying out loud, and not just any birthday my eighteenth birthday! I was now an adult and shouldn't have to put up with trivial things such as high school. Maybe I should skip school and go to a strip club or buy some or cigarettes or something. I started laughing to myself at those thoughts. I had never skipped a class or day of school in my life, and I certainly wasn't going to start now, at least not to see some stranger's s.

Looking at the clock I saw that it was now 7:50, and I'd have to head inside now. Sighing heavily, I swung my door open, nearly knocking an unsuspecting freshman to the ground. His brother, who I've known for years, gave me a death glare, to which I responded with, “Sorry, school just, y'know, makes me angry...” and then I awkwardly walked away at a faster than normal pace, made even more awkward by accidentally running into a lightpole.

When I finally got inside I only had about four minutes to get to class. It sounds like enough time, but one also has to factor in book-out-of-locker time and a lost freshman or two, so I was nearly running to my locker on the other side of the building. By the time I reached it the hallways were empty save for, like I said, the lost freshman or two. I did not want to start out my senior year by being late to class. I was so annoyed and anxious that it took 3 times for me to open my locker, and when I finally did get it open I remembered that I didn't need any books until 5^th hour.

“ my life,” I whispered under my breath before I slammed the locker door shut. I glanced at my watch and upon seeing it was 7:59, I repeated the phrase, and didn't even look in the direction of the twerp next to me asking where he should go for Physics class. I'd feel bad about that later, I noted, but I just didn't have time for that right now.

As I kept walking toward the classroom, I began smelling a very familiar smell. It was lavender and jasmine, mixed with musky colognes, and even though I lived about 30 minutes from the ocean, faint sea breezes were mixed in as well. The more I tried remembering where I had smelled it before, the more I questioned if I had ever even smelled it at all. Suddenly the hallway I was in was completely empty, when just seconds before teachers were standing outside of their doors, chatting and waiting on stragglers to enter their classes.

A wave of anxiety, nervousness, and a tinge of fear hit me and I glanced behind me to see if anyone was there. Or was I making sure no one was there? Shouldn't I have been at my class already? These hallways weren't this long last year, were they? I started feeling confused and absolutely frightened, so I began running, desperately wanting to hide, yet there was nowhere to go and I wasn't even sure what I wanted to hide from.

Finally I reached the end of the hallway and I felt a little triumphant; my classroom was just around the corner now. Except when I rounded the corner, I was no longer in my school.

I was in a warehouse, and I was certain I had been here before.

It was full of brilliant sunshine, the sea surrounded it on all sides. It was breathtaking under the sun, as if someone had filled it with priceless gems. I wanted to feel its velvety blueness, lose myself in its soft waves, escape in the soothing waters, but I could not. I was trapped.

At this thought, my heart began beating faster, my breath became labored, I screamed at nothing, yet everything, and then turned around, attempting to turn back into my school's musty hallways.

I ran directly into two men, dressed in long black robes with hoods that shadowed their faces. Immediately upon making contact with them, the smell of lavender, jasmine, musk, and the sea hit my nostrils, and I was so overcome with fear that I tried pushing past them, but each of them grabbed one of my arms, making me feel like a doll with their strength, holding me in front of them without a word until I stopped resisting. Once I was calm enough to release, they pulled their hoods away from their faces, and both called my name with the same pleading tone...

“Phoenix...”

Their faces were so beautiful, almost unearthly perfect.

“Phoenix...”

Their voices were so alluring, calming and smooth. I wanted to step toward them, instead of back away like I was doing.

“Phoenix...”

Something was telling me I should run away from the two strangers standing before me, but I instinctively reached an arm out to them, desiring their touch more than air...

…

“Hello?! Are you alright? Miss? Are you okay?”

My eyes slowly shifted from the speckled linoleum floor to my 1^st hour teacher's concerned face. How long had I been standing here? Wasn't I just... As soon as the thought crossed my mind, it disappeared. I could have sworn I was just... somewhere else. Right? Frantically, I checked my watch. It was still 7:59. But why would it still be 7:59 if I had been here all along?

The teacher must have sensed my confusion, because he gently asked, “Are you feeling alright Miss?”

I was so embarrassed I could hardly look into his imploring eyes, so I just sheepishly nodded and muttered, “Yes, I'm fine,” while quickly walking past him into the classroom to take the only available seat, directly in the front of the classroom and next to the teacher's desk. Great, I thought, this brand new teacher probably thinks I'm some kind of freak and I have to sit in front of him for 45 minutes. What a wonderful way to spend my birthday, having mental breakdowns on the first day of senior year in the middle of the hallway, I added spitefully, as the teacher walked into the classroom and up to the front of the room.

He looked about 30-years-old, but in a good way. He seemed distinguished and very intelligent, partly because of his black-framed glasses and hipster-meets-teacher style, and partly because of a worldly air about him. His classroom was decorated with posters of Japan and the Kenyan flag, with trinkets and souvenirs from both places dotting his desk. Amongst the posters were photographs he must have taken of the Vatican city and there was even one of himself with the pope. A rosary was hanging on the corner of this particular photograph, with a small paper attached to it.

“Good morning, class! I suppose it is my rightful duty as your first hour teacher to sarcastically mention how chipper all of you look, so... Wow! You all look so happy to be here!” This garnered a few chuckles, and the teacher smiled, revealing bright and straight teeth. He continued, “As most of you can probably tell, I'm a new teacher this year, so I suppose it is another duty of mine to introduce myself, and find out some things about you all as well.” He took a sip of his coffee, and then set the burgundy and gold mug down on his desk next to a small statue of Mary. Clearing his throat he said, “My name is Winston Nakatani, but you can just call me Mr. Winston if you'd like. I was born in Japan while my mother was there during her Air Force service, which is how she met my father. Yes, I speak Japanese, and if you couldn't already tell, my mother was black.” Some people snickered in the back, but I was too busy taking in his gorgeous features and trying not to develop a crush on him. “Now, then, down to the part you all hate! Stand up and tell me a little about yourselves, starting with... you.” He pointed one of his many ringed fingers at me and I forced myself to not groan because of how handsome he was.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and I could feel my face burning. In that moment I decided that invisibility would be one kick- super power. “Well,” I started slowly, “my name is Phoenix...” I could fill Mr. Winston's dark eyes on me, and I dared to glance up at his perfect face. My face somehow glowed even pinker and I quickly glanced away, looking out the window at the morning sun. I was scrambling for something interesting to say. Should I tell the story of the time that blowup house blew away? I thought, but then I blurted, “...and today is my birthday.”

I really didn't want the teacher to know it was my birthday for fear he would ask the class to unwillingly sing a monotonous birthday song to me, but to my surprise he said, “Oh, well, happy birthday Miss Phoenix. Who's next?” Thank God, I thought, slumping back into my seat.

After about 10 minutes of favorite colors and “I play football/basketball/baseball/no one really cares” the part that everyone really dreaded came up. The actual class started.

“Unless you all are in the wrong classroom, this is Bible in Literature. We'll be reading the Bible with a critical mind and have discussions about the stories we read. I know some of you might not actually be Christians and just need an extra English credit or elective, however, please keep an open mind and respect everyone's beliefs.” For some odd reason, Mr. Winston was only looking at me while he said that. Maybe he could tell I wasn't a believer, or maybe he thought I was strikingly beautiful or just crazy after that scene in the hallway.