I'm afraid of heights.

Which is a logical reason why I jumped off the Eiffel Tower, heading towards my anticipated death.

Before you ask, no. I am not trying to kill myself. If I did want to, I would do it in a less public place. Although the offer of death is tempting, I'm still a teenager. Still got to do a bunch of crazy things before I turn 100. Besides, I can't just give up on the mission that everyone is depending on me to succeed on.

I'm trying to practice. My eyes are still closed, and I can feel the air rushing into my face.

I don't want to look, which is understandable if one is afraid of falling, but if one does it on purpose, you would probably think I have a few screws loose in my head.

I know humans can't fly, duh. They can't fly now, and they can't either 24 years into the future.

But I'm not normal.

Putting in all my focus, I determine myself to stop falling. I think of pause buttons, frozen ice, and anything that is just still in motion.

I slowly open my eyes, daring to look.

I'm floating in mid-air, and with all my strength I will myself to descend. Drops of sweat fall from my forehead. Until now, I realize I'm in shock. Wiping them away, I feel that I had enough training today, and I think Chicca is exhausted. My bracelet beeps, and I transform back. My parakeet kwami stumbles, and I let her fall into my hands.

She doesn't speak to me. I accept the silence, since I still don't feel like talking. It's been this way ever since we arrived in Paris. Or more like, we arrived in Paris of the past. I place her gently into my purse, and cover her with a tissue. A tear drops from her eye, and I wipe it away.

I walk through the streets, and the few people in the streets this late at night don't give me a second glance. Someone would question why a 15 year-old girl was walking alone, but I'm not a threat.

I'm just Florence.

I make my way into the forest, where I find my hidden tree house. And yes, they have invented invisible homes in the future. Don't ask; there's no rocket launchers. Even if there was, or is, or will be, I want to avoid flying as much as possible.

But I can't. Not what after what she did for me. What they did for me.

What he did.

Just the thought makes me tempted to cry. But I'm done shedding tears. They won't fix the future, and neither will me being scared.

Tomorrow I'll be heading to Collège Françoise Dupont. Just the thought makes me nervous.

Meeting them will fix the future. I just hope I don't mess up the mission.

I take off my pony tail, and brush my blond hair with my fingers. I grab a pillow, a soft fleecy blanket, and lie down onto my mat. I take out Chicca, and she snuggles against me. I yawn.

Just because being scared doesn't help solve anything, doesn't mean I'm not going to be.

My eyelids are heavy, and before I sleep, I remind myself what I have to do.

Starting tomorrow, I'm going to have be a hero. A superhero that saves everyone and everything.

Even though I don't believe I can.