I flitted through the night air, if you could call it “flitting.” I’m not a very good flier, in fact I think I might be a terrible flier. It might have something to do with my serious affliction of klutziness. I’m serious! It’s a disease! I was fine until about a year ago, or was it two? Ah well, before my major growths spurt. I grew three inches in just two months, and my wings didn’t come in quite as fast, so for awhile I could hardly fly. Now that my wings grew to match my height, I fly a bit better, but my right wing is a good three inches longer than the left one, which throws me off balance quite frequently. I’m rambling, aren’t I? 1
Well, first things first. My name is Fern. Fern Jamaya Lorie Phyrnicaus Piff. Piff, I know, its weird. Well, actually, my whole name is weird! But nobody said weird is bad, right?2
If you haven’t already guessed, I’m an angel, hence the weird name. No, I do not live on a puffy little cloud, playing my little golden harp. I do not have a halo. No angels have halos anymore. That was in style about 2,018 years ago. The whole myth-thing about angels wearing flowing white robes, and shining halos, while playing on gold harps was started by Jalicus, a man who “died” and went to “heaven.” 3
What he actually saw was Cortem, leader of the Chorus, performing the mantra of Helm, the costume for it just so happens to be white robes, and shiny halos. And the harps? That was just the accompaniment. I mean cellos so do not sound gentle and melodious! 4
An Angel is a guardian. I mean my whole life, and every other angels life is about learning to protect, actually protecting, and finally more then likely dying for the one we are destined to protect. Sounds grim huh? Well that’s my life in a nutshell. Of course there are a few choices, but lets not get into that. 5
For the first 13 years of my existence, I spent everyday learning. Learning how to protect. We have to train very hard, we have to learn to protect from various unusual things. Did you know that over 400,000 deaths a year are related to smoking? I mean what kind of idiot are humans? They know its bad, yet they continue to kill themselves! Geez! It’s the guardian angels job to convince their protected human to drop the habit. Of course some people are just STUBBORN! 6
Well, on out 13th birthday, us young angels flit off to the agency to find ourselves a job. Its not like we have many options though, angels were created to protect, so protect it is! 7
Angels are connected to our human. We are the same age, we were born the same day, and we will most likely die the same day as well. When a human dies, his or her angel dies as well, that’s why angels work so hard to keep there human alive. A human will live on without an angel, but most likely not very long. You have no idea how many daily dangers an angel faces just to protect there human, and most of the time the human doesn’t even realize it! 8
Oh yeah, that reminds me; I forgot to tell you why I am flitting awkwardly away through the night air. Today is my 13th birthday. The day I get my first and last job. Fun. I landed, my rough and knotty russet wings folding neatly into my back. I approached the door, my hand curling on the silver handle. I didn’t have to do this you know. I could turn away, to live my life as an outcast. An outcast yes, but at least a free one. I could become one of the fallen ones. 9
PART 210
A thousand thoughts rushed through my head. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turned the door handle and pulled. Nothing happened. The door didn’t budge. Was it closed? The most life-changing day of my existence and the agency was CLOSED! What the heck?! 11
Oh, wait; I bent down reading the inscription. One simple word engraved in the metal plate: “Push.” 12
I sighed with relief, and following the instructions, pushed the door. Of course, seeing as I had just been ripping the door of its hinges in the other direction, I couldn’t just gently open the door. No, of course not. I couldn’t enter like any other angel. Instead I shoved it in hard. Too hard. The door opened rapidly, sending me sprawling. There I lay, my face rapidly turning a deep flushed red. Its not that I wasn't used to this by now though.13
The receptionist looked over her horn-rimmed spectacles, her watery gray eyes staring at me with a look of pity and disgust. I didn’t even know it was possible to do that at the same time! 14
“Are you Helmofern?” Her wheezy voiced inquired sounding not unlike nails on a chalkboard. I shuddered, goose bumps racing up and down my spine. 15
“Yes, I am, but I prefer just Fern. Helmofern sounds so ancient. You know? 16
I could see by the face she made; her nose wrinkled up like she had just caught a whiff of some nasty thing that might have crawled out of a drain, that she did not. She just smiled wanly at me. With a sweeping motion she produced a feather quill pen in her right hand and a paper in the other, which she placed on her cherry red desk. 17
“Sign here, here and here.” She said, pointing vaguely about the completely blank parchment. 18
I hesitatingly dipped my pen in the odd scarlet ink. I started scratching my name somewhere near the place she had indicated, but the receptionist snatched away the pen, smearing the red ink across the page. She sighed exasperatedly as if this was all my fault. Bending down beneath her desk she produced a new sheet, this time marking small x’s where I was to sign. I picked up the pen, re-dipped it in the ink, and started again. After writing out my entire name (it is pretty long ya know!) she waved her hand again and pulled a blank sheet of paper, and crumpled the old one. I started to protest, but another wave of the hand silenced me mid-sentence. 19
“Your name I believe is not Fern, it is Helmofern. And however much you dislike it, it is still your name and is to be used when signing legal documents.” She said, articulating every syllable with sharp perfection. She pursed her lips and handed me a fresh sheet. I almost SCREAMED with frustration! I quickly grabbed the pen and wrote my name in the bloody ink. I couldn’t remember why this scene seemed so familiar. When finished, I handed it over for inspection. Berinda (what kind of name is that!), as her shiny badge claimed, snatched the paper and muttered some incoherent words under her breath. I’m not sure I wanted to hear them, her anger and exasperation showed with every movement. 20
Without a word she stood up stiffly and whirled around, her chartreuse skirt billowing out, like an umbrella caught in the wind. With her gone I finally glanced about the room, gazing intently at every detail. The fiery tie-dyed curtains fluttered in the wind. Man, this lady seemed to love red, red carpet, red curtains, red desk, red ink. I glanced at the quill pen, and sure enough, yes you guessed it, it was red. Now that I noticed it, the air seemed to have a reddish hue. The whole effect was actually quite creepy! 21
“Here is you subject. Guard him with your life.”22
I whirled around. How did she do that?! I didn’t even hear her come in! Creepy.
I took the paper. A curly brown haired guys face stared up. I gulped. I was to guard a BOY? Way to weird for me. He did look kinda cute…23
To:
Fern Jamaya Lorie Phynicus Piff 24
By signing this form you have agreed to guard Benjamin O. Everette with you life. Protect him to you utmost, and only in the case of a dire emergency are you to appear to him. Dream talk is fine occasionally. You may choose to die for him, giving him the opportunity to live life longer, though it is doubtful that he would survive without a guardian. Good luck on this new segment of your life.25
Sincerely, Loque H. Kingsly26
Um, what is this “form? ” What the heck! I examined it closely, my red signature was clearly visible, but when did I sign it? This was all reminding me of a scene I knew all to well. The red ink, the whole signing-up-for-something-without-reading-the-fine-print thing. All that was missing was the fiery pit of eternal pain and suffering. Nice huh? Oh well, I’ll live. Or will I?27
I sighed. This was WAY too much for my small angelic head to handle. Well, actually my head is not small, nor angelic. My plain frizzy brown hair, and bright green eyes do not give the impression of immortal beauty, as one would expect from an angel. My brother had had the same thin brown hair, but it had framed his perfect complexion perfectly or should I say “angelically.” His eyes. They were a rather striking shade of deep, deep blue. When you talked to him, you could never look away. They were like magnets, drawing you deeper into his soul. Why thank you, I am very poetic aren’t I? 28
My brother. I missed him a lot. Ever since The-Thing-We-Never-Talk-About happened my parents had never once mentioned him, hence the name "The-Thing-We-Never-Talk-About. They had even gone as far as to burn all his things. I fortunately, had rescued his collection of keys, stashing them safely in my closet under my old comic collection. Our parents had encouraged odd collections as they themselves had met at an exhibit of old bottle caps. Weird huh?29
“kef, haaaak.” 30
I whirled around. The creepy office lady “ Berinda” was still there. Glaring at me, of course. I glared back, my bright green eyes narrowed. 31
“Hairball?” I asked, putting on my serious face.32
She stared at me like I was a baboon trying to hula-hoop wearing a tutu. I smiled at her.
She sniffed, her nose pointing upwards as if she was an aristocratic wine taster. I smiled harder. 33
“What? Is there something in my braces?” I inquired, not that I had braces or anything. One of the perks of being an angel; perfect teeth. 34
She frowned. 35
“Right this way if you please.” She said waving her hand towards the back door. What’s with her and hand waving? 36
“What if I don’t please?” 37
I could see her lips tightening as she answered.38
“Please come back here. We must dispatch you to your new human.”39
I nodded and made my way to the back; tripping only once over God knows what (haha, get it? I’m an angel and God…oh, never mind). 40
She slid open the door revealing a small closet-like space. She waved me in (again with the hand waving) and in I went. 41
Inside it was small (well duh), dark and red. Again with the red! This place is so redundant. An odd fuzzy sensation took over my body. It felt like how I imagine swimming (we angels can’t swim, it damages our wings). It felt amazing! It was like floating on a big puffy cloud while eating marshmallows (been there done that). Actually you can’t really sit on a cloud, but just hovering on it is still pretty awesome. 42
Marshmallows are amazing, even if they are made out of cow hooves. I mean who would one day, randomly think “Oh, today I will grind up some cow hooves I have randomly lying around, add sugar, put ‘em on a stick and eat them!” Also, what’s with milk “Oooooo, I’m gonna pull these dangly things on the underside of a cow and drink the odd white stuff that comes out. Yay!” I mean it’s so peculiar. I wonder who discovered these things. 43
You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you plummet strait down after flying reaaally high? Um, awkward turtle… You don’t fly. Sorry. You know that feeling you get on a roller coaster, right after the vertical drop? Ya, that’s how I felt. Something was sucking out my insides, pulling me downward. I was getting dizzier and sleepier. My eyes blinked closed. I tried to open them, but my body seemed to have forgotten how to function. I relaxed, submitting myself to the darkness.44
To be continued... 45
Gold trophy winner
Honorable mention
Silver trophy winner
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
~Aqua
