"Dammit, just once I wish I could recreate myself. Make myself perfect. Become pretty and graceful and nice...perfect. Totally without fault. I wish that, just once, I could rise from the ashes of my current life, my misery, like the Phoenix. I wish the tiny scratches I cut into my skin would go deeper, to my soul, and cut it open; let out every impurity that resides there. Gods, I wish.

"I want to be myself and not what other people think I should be. I want to let sleeping dogs lie. I want to make everyone happy. I want to lie down every once in a while. Lay in my shallow grave and drown in the downpour of my tears. Drown in the music of life, letting it pulse around me, filling every cell of my being. Just drown. Live. Die. Maybe tomorrow my wishes will come true."

Then she lay down the pen and picked up a tiny razor, sliding it across both her wrists with quick motions. After all it wasn't the pain she wanted now. As the blood began to flow and light became dark, she smiled. It was a sad smile at best, but a smile nonetheless.

When they found the body of the girl no one rememberd, she sitting against the wall in her room, next to her open diary. Her eyes were fixed on a window opposite where her body lay, where one could see the sun rise and set everyday. The last entry was smeared dark red; but if you were to look closely it's just possible to see on last line, hastily scribbled at the bottom of the page.

"And the phoenix will rise again, from the ashes of disaster, and will shine like the sun itself."