I tilt my head, then look away to gather my thoughts. You shouldn't be in here, You're in a boy's room. You're in a boy's room. As I turn my head more, the sunlight pours on my face, covering it like a hat. Just drop the hoodie. Then run away. I turn back to the boy, only to see his olive green eyes covered by his lids, as soft purringf snores escape from his nose. 

I flinch slightly, confused at the speed of change. How is is he asleep? Gingerly, I scootch closer to him, staring at his dozed off face. "Hello...?" I mutter, He slowly lifts his lids up, tilting his head upwards, then straight, then to meet my eyes. 

"Um-why are you looking at me like that?" I ask with a worried set of brows. 

His sleepy eyes draw down to the crinkled hoodie in my scratched hands.

"Is that my hoodie?"

"Uh-yeah. Here. It was outside and wet, but no idea why."

He sighs. "Thank you."

He gently grips it, placing it beside him, still holding the book. 

"Is there something I can help you with? You look a little pale." 

He narrows the gap ever so slightly, as I dig my hands in my pockets nervously. 

"Don't worry. I just came to return it." I bend my knees, as my legs carry me upwards, running out of the cabin. 

"Wait." I hear his boyish voice, going into a halt. "What's your name? I thought I've met you before."

"I'm Justice."

"I'm Arthur." He replies sweetly. 

—

My mind runs in circles, that I can't pick up my spoon or plastic yellow cup. My eyes are glued to the small orange liquid pool of butternut squash in front of me, with a Caesar salad crowning the bowl. I stared at the vegetable chunk floating on the soup as my hand pillows my cheek. 

I never ate much anyway, but it never meant I'd skip mandatory lunches. My hand reaches for my spoon, plunging it into the soup. Once it ghosts in front of my lips, the fairy corpse, and Phoenix's dead, unstructured body flashes in my brain, loosening my fingers that held the spoon. I look around the room, and notice not a single scared face in the room. Chatter and laughter spread, slurps and clanging of utensils rang in my ears. People must think I am the weird one. 

Gemma and that ginger girl, Fiften take selfies as another girl gets dragged in suddenly. The more happy faces I see, the more I hope that what I just saw was all just a fever dream. Jane's just a friend, right? Phoenix will come back tomorrow and Sky will no longer hate me. I inhale sharply, squeezing my eyes from the burning sensation, releasing tiny tear drops. 

I reach for my pocket, hoping I packed a tissue. My hand remains empty, only slightly wet from handing that brunette boy his hoodie. A sheet of crunched paper forms in my scratched palm, with black marker bleeding through the paper. My activity list looked far cleaner than this. My eyebrows raise, confused. 

Cautiously, I peel the folds open, trying to read the marker stains. 

'There's a way to bring Phoenix back.'

My eyes sting again. My stomach felt like it dropped so low that my legs felt weak. Am I hallucinating? When did I have this note with me? Maybe Jane left it? I may be playing with fire, but this could be true. A dwarf-sized lady showed up at my window one night, A woman devoured a corpse like the juiciest burger, and a giant hand murdered an innocent boy. I already feel burned, from playing with fire, but maybe there's a way I can rise back up from my ashes, like a Phoenix.