February 1, 2018 by Patrick Starks
In Kygo, it is said that the skies are red, and the air is mist, and that all that stand before it become intertwined, in a twist. The people of the city became bound to fear, as they trembled to what lied in the mist, what would appear. Yet, in the midst of it all, there would be a child to challenge those very fears that stalled.
The child was like no other. This child was bold, strong, and cunning; in their florescent eyes one could see that, it was stunning. Abandon at birth the child would then be destined an orphan, that in which would give them more than just strength, but strength in the toughest organ. As tough as the child became, they were still a child after all. They cried nights on end, until they learned more about themselves, and how to fend.
Overtime, the child would buy into the talk of the town, into their sad looks and their frowns. That he or she’s parents did not abandon them by choice; that somewhere in the mist many could still hear their voice. He or she then entered into an unknown world, never to return again, in the hopes that they would rejoin with their family—a new life to begin. Years would go by, and the people of the town would tell their children’s children of the orphan child who they would name after the city, but oh, was it a pity to see them go; Kygo, the child who became a hero to their home.
“S-so does that mean they’re dead?” said a young girl.
“No, no my angel, they’re still alive, somewhere out there.” An old woman replied.
“Why doesn’t anyone go after them? They probably need our help grandma. I thought we were supposed to protect people,” pleaded the young girl.
“I’m sorry, but not a chance little one. Surely you missed everything I just said. Besides, your mother would probably kill me if I ever let you go anywhere near that kind of evil. Even if I let you out in the rain with a jacket on, she would probably still kill me; although, I’m sure it would cause you no harm, we are angels after all. Now, night, night, may your halo shine bright.”
“Oh alright… Night grandma.”
The old woman gave the little girl a kiss on her left and then right cheek, as she tucked her into a cotton candy cloud. The girl closed her eyes, but as the old woman flew off, one eye remained opened. Little did the old woman know, the little girl would make her way out into the mist regardless of what she was told. However, she wasn’t stupid, she knew it be silly to go out there alone; so, she rallied up a team, one that she knew could get her back to her home.
First, was of course her best friend, Uma. Uma Thurman, she liked to be called, or Kill Bill, which wasn’t really a name at all. It was obvious that Uma was a fan of the famous movie “Kill Bill”, however, it was surprising for her age she was even allowed to watch such; in Kygo such things were forbidden, a sin, but as any child, the children always found a way around to getting access to it. She wasn’t really what any would call the brains of the operation, but she did have two years practice in Jeet Kune Do, and a strong attention for detail, which meant she could just about get out of any sticky situation, and for that she was made co-captain of the team, the protector.
Second, was Maddie, short for Madalyn. Maddie was only one letter short from her actual name, so it really wasn’t much of a difference to begin with, but it was what she preferred from the rest. Maddie was definitely something one would call the brains of the operations. Although, her appearance was different from the stereotypical smart girl; she was no Velma from ‘Scooby-Doo’, or any Laney from ‘She’s All That’, she was just Maddie. She didn’t wear glasses, she didn’t wear quote on quote—nerd clothes, guy clothes, barely any clothes for that matter. Maddie was truly something out of an Abercrombie commercial, and it was easy to say that her influence was from the planet earth as well, although, it seems she’d really take it to the extreme, more than others. But on the plus side, Maddie could just about build anything from scratch, and with her dad being the cities handyman, it wasn’t a surprise at all that she would be taught the ways of wizardry—a dream come true, to satisfy her father’s misery.
The crew was almost complete. There was just one thing missing, the final piece, the last crew member; Arma, who they all called armadillo. Unlike Maddie’s nickname, which isn’t often mentioned without a black eye. Arma was okay with hers, she was a southern gal after all, or at least she wanted to be. Arma was a strong believer in the southern hospitality. She would even paint her wings red, white, and blue, while here halo remained true—a dedication to the big red state. Arma’s skill wasn’t what many would call special, at least not for where they were headed, yet, some would disagree that being a fine chef was a useless talent. Arma could just about create gourmet dinners out of nothing, southern dishes to be specific. None knew how to cook at all, and all figured they would starve without her, and so Arma was brought on as the final piece to the puzzle.
The tank, the technician, and the medic. The perfect combo for any fierce excursion.
“B-but what of the leader, the girl that wanted to go in the first place. What was her name?”
“No one really knows. All that anyone knows is that her name started with a “P”. The P.U.M.A girls was what they called themselves, the only angels to actually wear shoes, specifically Pumas, as many above remained barefoot. But if I had to bet, the leaders name was probably Patricia, or something like that,” Said the man.
Bright eyes of a little girl then blossomed. “But my names Patricia.”
“That you are. Are you the leader? It’s okay, you can tell me, I won’t tell your mother, I pinky swear it.”
“Stop joking around dad.”
“Well it’s the truth ain’t it.”
The little girl blushed as the man kissed her on her right and then left cheek. He tucked her into to covers that wrapped around her like clouds. A click and clack, and the man cut the night light on as he turned his back.
“You can turn the light off dad, I don’t need it anymore.”
The night went off. A heartfelt smile pierced through the dark, the man’s little girl was growing up, too fast he prayed, but he was happy for her; even envisioning her being a big star on a red carpet one day made him teary eyed.
The little girl then dreamed of the mist, one she would wake up to, one she would not be ready to persist.
“Patricia wake up! We gotta go!”
TO BE CONTINUED