The Seven: Origins

{Kenzi}

Bubblegum pink hair and grassy green eyes are tricky when someone wants to dress nice. I hadn't cared until high school. I had wanted to dress like a model and own the whole pink hair deal.

I'm certainly going to thank my birth mother, who existed in dreams with her rainbow locks, if I ever meet her one day.

Elementary school was easy as hell, aside from my hyperactive disorder. It was hard to sit still and be quiet.

Junior high, they cared less about you being still as long as you kept quiet. Still, even that was difficult.

I had always been good at hiding my fear and loneliness. I hid it by projecting confidence and a very fun sense of humor. I had many friends in high school but after that, they grew up and went seperate ways.

This was more than fine by me because I liked to travel. I moved alot too. To pay for all of my adventures, I used my abilities to pull a Robin Hood on certain people.

For example, one marvelous weekend, I stayed in Beverly Hills with a girlfriend and I wanted to buy some things.

I walked in a few stores, looked around and got dirty looks before moving to a better store.

Finally, I walked into one store and saw a woman being fitted with a cocktail dress.

"Ouch! Are you stupid or careless?" The woman snapped at the girl, who apologized timidly.

Bingo, I thought.

I walked up to the woman and sat down. I gazed at the dress she was wearing and tilted my head. I stood and walked around a few times. The dress designer was French.

"Can I help you?" Deanna, the rude woman snarled.

I smiled politely, ignoring the snide remarks in her mind about my hair.

"No, I was simply admiring my work." I replied, in a French accent.

"Your work?" She blinked, still snapping.

"The dress. I thought it was too.much when I designed it but you....you wear it beautifully." I smiled.

"Oh.." She straightened and sighed. She really thought she wore it well.

I sat down again and sighed. I watched as she yelled at the girl again about something before I bid her farewell.

She looked like she had been yelling to impress me and she called after me, telling me to wait. I didn't. I walked out of the door and drove out of Beverly Hills.

I wound up Oakland to catch a few punk bands, courtesy of Deanna Walsh. She had been so full of herself and treating people like shit, she hadn't noticed me slip her wallet out of her purse and into my own.

I bought many people drinks, including two cool guys named Mike and Billie, who were actually in one of the bands. After we drank some, we went and got high before I had to be on my way. I told them they better get famous because they were amazing musicians. I left and traveled back east, to New York City where I remained for a long time.

At night, I partied with people and had fun dancing and being silly.
But when I went home, I spent the day in silence. I pondered where I had come from and why I had been put up for adoption.

When I went out, I looked like the happiest girl in the world. But it was all a show. I drank and smoked to dim how cold I felt inside.

Around my twenty-fifth birthday,I went out to a club and before midnight I couldn't even comprehend how to force a smile. I was wasting my life. I was doing nothing with a purpose. I sat at the bar, looking like a star, but feeling like stone. I felt cold and hard.

I down a few drinks and found my way to the nearest church. It was a Catholic church but that didn't matter. I stumbled up to the statue of Jesus on the cross and collapsed to my knees.

"Please....I don't want this anymore. I want a reason to be alive. I need more than alcohol and clothes and friends that aren't real. I need...I need something real." I sobbed. I cried until I couldn't breathe.

I sat there for awhile and prayed. I prayed as hard as I could, feeling desperate and hopeful or hopeless. I couldn't tell which.

"Gimme something real. Gimme a sign. A reason to be here..." I trailed off in my last hope prayer and felt someone kneel beside me.

I looked over, hands still clasped in prayer, unashamed. That was when I knew my prayers had been answered. He was an angel, he had to be. His hair was black and pink. His eyes were grassy green and kind. He took my hands in his and a flood of relief, as well as images filled me.

"Evangelos." I whispered in relief, clinging to him.

He smoothed my hair and wiped my tears away with his fingertips. He gazed at me with complete devotion and adoration.

"Kenzi...it's okay. He sent me to give you your purpose." Evangelos whispered.

With that, he gave me an envelope and I opened it quickly and carefully and smiled so big and so real it hurt my face.