The Phoenix

-dusklockheart-

Author's Note: Yeah, I love Legion, don't ask, really, don't. I've watched the damn movie like three times like already, it's a record for me.(I'm a loser, I know.)(At least I admit it.) Yeah, I know I mixed the myth and my own personal desires for the phoenix to have.(Shut up.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Legion or it's characters, however, I do own my original character, Tiffany(Phoenix), and this plot. Thank you.

Prologue

"The phoenix, in myth and Christianity, was described to be an eagle-like bird with large and beautiful wings that would be covered with fire. The phoenix was said to be able to walk among the humans, appearing in human flesh. It's lifetime was said to be about five hundred to a thousand years. When it sensed it's life span was coming an end, it would set itself on fire and burn to ashes. Within a three days time, the phoenix would raise from its ashes and be reborn again to live out another five hundred to a thousand years. However, as we all should know, the phoenix was simply used as a symbol, in Christian belief, for Christ's resurrection. I'm perfectly sure there are absolutely no large birds on fire being sighted flying over the White House."

"There were UFOs seen flying over the White House!"

"Those were UFOs, Bobby, not a phoenix."

--

When I was a little girl, I was told that all the dreams and fantasy we had grown up with were lies and there was just this life. Nothing was real, the only thing that existed was humanity and the ignorance surrounding it. Mickey Mouse wasn't real. Santa Clause wasn't real.

God wasn't real.

All that was and would ever be, was right in front of us. I guess that's probably why a lot of kids my age got drunk on a daily basis and smoked drugs like there was no tomorrow. It was all because the world believed there was no tomorrow. Everything we could ever possibly know was this life.

Whenever someone asked what was beyond this life, after we die and we're six feet under(or in the bottom of a lake), depended on who you asked.

Christianity and Judaish believed in a Heaven that was ruled by God who had created us and shown us His affection by gifting us with His eternal mercy and ever love. In Hinduism, they believe that people are reborn as a completely different person. In Muslim, God judges whether or not you followed what He asked of you. Buddhists believe they are reincarnated until they reach enlightenment. An atheist would say you just stop existing, you just disappear.

My question is; Who's right?

I mean, there has been one who has the correct answer isn't there? But they all can't be right, can they?

After a while, people started getting tried of all this bullshit. They just stopped believing in religion and moved on to living in the moment. I guess religion kinda went out of style; just like dreams. Once people begin to feel bored of something, they toss it out.

That's probably why teenagers rebelled. At first, the amount of teenagers drinking or taking drugs were under control. As the years progressed, the government discovered that the number of teenagers drinking, taking drugs, or both was almost to eighty percent, that was when they decided to take action.

Now, if a teenager was caught, or even suspected to be drinking or taking drugs, the lucky ones would get a short trial. The not-so-lucky ones were simply sentenced as adults and thrown into prisons.

My mother once told me that if I was ever caught and put in jail, I'd never see her again. As a kid, I never wanted to be separated from my parents, not even for an hour. And that scared me. I can't even begin to tell you how many sleepless nights I had because I believed that if I feel asleep, I'd wake up to find my parents gone.

As time went on, though, I began more and more distant from my parents. Suddenly, having my parents taken away for a few days, even a few weeks, sounded pretty good.

I sent more time with my friends outside then I did with my family. It wasn't because I loved them less, no. It was because the new baby had become a huge handful. Mom and dad seemed to focus their attention solely on the baby and not towards me and my older brother.

I suppose that's how Frank felt like when I was born.

I was actually shocked when Frank's 18th birthday came and mom and dad didn't realize it at all. They didn't wish him a good birthday or anything. They just spent the day looking after the baby, not even seeming to care they missed Frank's special day at all.

That evening I went out and bought a cake for him. We ate the entire cake by ourselves in his room that night. Mom and dad still downstairs taking care of the baby.

I cried for Frank. I did. I held onto him for the remainder of the night.

The next morning mom and dad didn't notice a thing. To me, it seemed as if they didn't care. For me or for Frank.

As much as I saw it, I didn't want to believe it. I knew mom and dad had forgotten Frank's birthday, but somewhere deep inside of me, I silently hoped that they would remember my birthday and surprise Frank with a new car and tell him that they were just waiting for the right time to catch him off guard.

Months went by, my birthday was just two days away. I hid in my silence from my parents, hoping.

My actual birthday arrived. I had woken up and found a small cupcake with a single candle sticking out of the top. My heart lifted. When I picked the cupcake I saw there was a note underneath it. My heart fell when I read it. It said; Happy Birthday Little Sis, -- Frank.

I did appreciate that Frank had done that, but, I wished it had been mom and dad who'd done it.

That night, I didn't come out of my room at all, hoping mom and dad would burst into the room holding a large cake between them with fifteen candles on top with flames all set to be blown out. After they would take me downstairs to where the entire living room would be decorated with different colored streamers and a billion balloons floating around. All my friends would be there, all where party hats and playing birthday games. And once I'd arrive, everyone would turn towards me as mom and dad lifted the cake to my face. I'd blow out the candles and everyone would start clapping and cheering. Mom would whip out her camera and take pictures, Frank would be beside me standing with me in the pictures with the both of us smiling.

And the baby would be soundlessly asleep in around room.

After nine went by, my hopes became my disappointments. At ten, Frank sneaked into my room with a cake that said 'Get Well Soon, Betty!'. He smiled shyly and said it was the only one left. I didn't complain. Together we ate my cake. After breaking out a deck of UNO, playing until one in the morning, Frank went back into his own room.

I laid there in my bed and thought; Where did it all go wrong?What changed?

And I cried.