I looked at the students in my classroom and smiled; I loved teaching so much. It actually made me look normal let me live a normal life. I looked at the clock and realized it was almost time to go. "Alright guys. Don't forget to write the poem about your hero for homework! I'll see you next week!" I exclaimed with a smile. All of my students told me good-bye and left with a smile on their faces.

Thirty minutes later I got a call from the secretary in the office telling me that Mr. Pruitt wanted to see me in his office. Asap.

Not to sound high of myself or anything, but I'm probably one of the best teachers here. Sure I hadn't been teaching long but every student in my class had a 98 or above. This is very good for either my Honor Poetry classes or my AP Poetry classes.

"Hello Mr. Pruitt," I said kindly as I walked into his office. "How are you doing today?"

"Swell," he said sarcastically. I'll be honest; he's the grumpiest man I've ever met and I really don't like him but you can't pick your bosses. "Sit down Miss Breez," he barked.

Obviously I'm Miss Breez. Mystery Jen Breez is my full name. I did as he said and sat down in one of the leather chairs. "I'm sorry Miss Breez but I'm firing you," he said, without sadness in his voice I must point out.

I was stunned. "What? Why?" I asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Because. You still haven't gotten rid of your red chunky highlights in your black hair. Teachers feel like I'm bending the rules for you. You also are a suspicious young girl," he said glaring at me.

You've got to be kidding. Okay. So what if I had midnight black hair with a few red low/high lights. And so what if under my black hair was a darker red color. It's just hair. I'm a poet for heaven's sake! "You can't fire me because of my hair or because I'm 'suspicious'. That's like Brutus killing Caesar because he was 'ambitious'!" I shouted.

He was obviously confused about my simile. No wonder he's a principal; he doesn't use English every day. "I'm sorry but you're fired. Go get your things and go home," he commanded, his face getting an ugly red color.

I stood up, with my chin high. I know who sent that suspicious crap in. My brother.

"Actually I think I'll leave my stuff here. Maybe the next teacher you hire will like it considering it's about poetry," I said as I turned around.

"It's also because every student in your class is an emo," he drug the last word out.

I spun around, full of rage. "My students express themselves. They aren't emos; you're an ass. You don't care about this school or the students. You just like the money you get. I hope you die very soon," I yelled. I couldn't believe that he said my students were emo; he was old he didn't even know what that meant! Ugh.

He puffed up and his face turned redder. "Get out now."

"Glad to," I said with a smile. I walked out the door and slammed it behind me. He was a living Satan; he needed to get back where he belonged.

I walked out with my head held high and a smile on my face. I didn't even go back to my old classroom; I just walked outside and to my little red 1993 Subaru Liberty.

"Mystery!" I heard someone shout. I turned around and saw the librarian, Mr. Lorenzo (A/N: This is the librarian from the school that they went to while they were staying at Anne Walker's house. I wasn't sure what his name was so I just picked a name!) running towards me with a smile on his face. "Hey. Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?" he asked. I saw hope in his eyes, so I looked down.

"No. I'm sorry. I just got fired so I'm going to go find my family in Arizona," I said sadly. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he smiled. I got in my car and shut the door. "Sorry but I just kinda want to sit in my car for a little bit so could you leave?" I said looking down at the steering wheel.

"You have my number, right?" He asked and I nodded. "Well call me anytime you want to," he said. I could tell her was smiling by the lightened tone in his voice.

"I will," I said with a sad smile. I heard him walk away and the expolsive headache came. I tried hard not to cry out; I didn't want Greg (A/N: I just made up his first name lol!) to come running back or anything. That's the last thing I needed.

Images of a house in Arizona, a group of avian kids, my big brother, a talking dog and two regular dogs, and a picture of a baby with wings. I heard weird voices in my head and a few barks. Just like when it happened, it ended.

I knew I had to get home and pack a backpack. I think I broke every car law and regulation while I raced to my house in a Kentucky valley. No one lived in this little valley that I had found while flying over Kentucky.

Oh yeah… I didn't tell you. I have wings and I have for about 16 years. I'm 32 years old, by the way. Never been married but I have had a child… But it died during child birth…

14 black shirts, 7 pairs of black pants, plenty of socks and undergarments… I started making a list as I grabbed a bag and went into my bedroom that was on the one and only floor. After grabbing clothes, I grabbed toilotries, a blanket, and lots of food. I put on my last pair of black pants, a white long sleeve shirt, and then a black and white striped shirt of it. I threw on a pair of black Chucks (A/N: Converse, Hightops, Highs, Lowtops, Lows, Chuck Taylors, etc.) I had to admit it to myself; I looked almost 19. Cool.

I put the black backpack on my back, took a running start, and unfurled my wings. They were about 25 feet across aand the were black with white under-feathers; they also had red tips, which looked really cool when the sun hit them.

I flew straight towards the sky and when I was above the trees, I poured on the super speed. I'd reach Arizona in no time.