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Story Part 3:
__Most wizards who didn’t already have guardians were still in their training, or had just started out as qualified wizards. All of the wizards at my last trials were around fifteen to sixteen years old, at oldest. A wizard with ten years experience without the assistance of a guardian was defiantly a point of interest. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman with a clipboard who had showed us to the room that we currently occupied walked in and told us the wizard was approaching. I had no idea what to expect, but I imagined an ominous, tall man with maybe a few battle scars coming through the doorway, his impressive figure shown through his wizards’ uniform. This man would probably look up and down the lineup, choose one of the more striking looking demons, like Mr. Chamomile-mango over there, and wouldn’t even see me. I would have been quite content with that. That wasn’t even close. __ Out of that doorway skipped a little girl with a lollipop, her hair black with pink through it, ribbons and bows at certain key points. In all honesty, she couldn’t have been taller than four foot nine at most, and was wearing a pink and black ornate, silk dress that complemented her hair, which was defiantly no uniform for anything short of the lollipop guild. I and several other prospective guardians tried to see if another person was coming up behind. __The women with the clipboard squatted down to reach eyelevel with the girl and asked, “How old are you, little girl?” “I’m nineteen!” she answered, happily. __Without so much as blinking, the woman said, “Okay, sweetie, is you’re name Wynne Austinkroft?” “Yes, and I’m here for my guardian,” she said. __“Okay, just take your time and choose the one that you want, and tell me when you have made your final choice,” the woman said before she left the room. __“Wow, your hair is so amazing! It actually makes you look slightly less hideous than you actually are!” someone shouted to what was supposed to be our possible wizard. I looked over to see that it was the guy who had talked to me earlier. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think that one should insult someone else’s hair when their own hair could pass for a Chia pet. __I was about to interject on the little girl’s behalf when she said, without missing a beat, “Why thank you! I got the idea from your mom, you know, the ugly unicorn with the fungal infestation and pinkeye!” __Suddenly he seemed less interested in picking on what he thought was a defenseless little girl. However, as she looked away from him, her eyes settled on me and she squealed loudly, pointing at me and jumping up and down. As the woman came running through the door, the girl shouted “That’s the one! The orange kitty with the yellow ribbon tied around his neck! He’ll be my guardian!”
I died a little that moment.
I watched little wizard-girl and the woman were discussing and filling out paperwork as if I weren’t in my own body. In a brief time of shock as the horrible, the devastating new reality of my life was being slowly absorbed by my unwilling mind. A- she was a wizard (for ten years, nonetheless), B- any wizard would choose a cat (for that was the form I had taken) to protect their life, and C- when did I have a yellow ribbon on my neck? I looked down and saw a big yellow ribbon tied around my neck with the words “PICK ME!” embroidered repeatedly in glowing neon thread. I looked around to see who possibly could have- My eyes instantly settled on the green-haired demon, who was waving three more identical ribbons and mouthing, “I’m glad I had your size,” with an unbelievably annoying smile.
__In spite of his under-handed behavior, I decided to do the healthy and honorable thing, though: I vented all my problems into a deep, intense, border-line obsessive hatred of the Chia man. While I was thinking venomous thoughts, the little, nineteen-year-old girl was filling out paper work with the woman. I was mentally burying his body under the local Chia pet emporium when the woman with the clipboard addressed me, bringing me back to the reality of my nightmares. “Okay candidate number seventeen, would you please tell me your name?” she said. “His name is Shizzy!” the little wizard, before I had the chance to respond, causing a series of mostly suppressed laughter among the other candidates. “Th-that’s not my name!” I said, trying to hold to any remaining scrap of dignity I might have had left. “Of course it’s not, candidate number seventeen,” the woman said, still filling out forms. “You will need an alias in order to protect your relatives and civilian records. If you don’t want ‘Shizzy’ as your chosen name, please select one now so you can fill out this form, send it in. In just six to eight short weeks, it will be deni- I mean ‘processed’.” __My life was going so downhill so fast, and now I won’t even have my identity! Unfortunately, the only names that I could think of were Melvin, Shermaniac, the Clamn, and Senor Popsicle. “Shizzy it is then!” she said, writing down “Come on Shizzy! I’m going to show you to your new home!” the girl said to me, picked me up, and carried me off. “I’m sure you’ll love it!” __It was then that I realized that I was a guardian, whether I liked it or not.
iHidan the Immortal · Wed Feb 27, 2008 @ 02:56am · 0 Comments |
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