Guardian Legends: The Hoodie
It was a bright morning in the small town of Burgess, Pennsylvania. People were hurrying everywhere to pick up groceries and such things or at least trying to get out of the wind. For it was unnaturally cold on Main Street. Especially since it was the month of July. Of course there was a good reason for this.
Walking down the street was a teenager who looked at least fifteen years of age. He was tall, at least five foot eleven, had snow white hair, and bright royal blue eyes. His name was Jack Frost. He was holding a wooden shepherd’s staff and wearing a dark brown duster that was tattered and torn and had what looked like holes from a cannon in it.
A few days ago was the fourth of July. He was flying over the Burgess Fairgrounds when he was suddenly attacked by a borage of fireworks. He was shaken out of his mind and his duster had several burn marks and holes in it. Ever since he was looking for a way to fix the duster, but had no luck.
As he walked down the streets of Burgess would look at children fly kites on the sidewalk and he would even creat a gust of wind for them. He was also looking in the clothe stores to find something to repair the duster. Them he came to a Hollister shop where the manager was yelling at an employ in an alley next to the store.
The manager shoved a box in the employ’s and shouted, “Take these out back to the dumpster and next time make sure you get the logo put on them before you order them or your fired.” Jack stared at the conversation with wide eyes. The employ ran off around the back corner of the store to the dumpster. Jack followed and peaked his head around the corner in time to see the employ put the box next to the dumpster, for it was full and over flowing. The employ came and walked back and right though Jack. Jack was startled and tripped backwards against the wall of the next store over. He watched the employ walk back into the store’s side entrance.
After the employ went inside, Jack got up walked over to the box. He leaned his staff against the wall and stooped down to the box and opened it. Inside were three or four royal blue hoodies that were just a bit darker than his eyes. He started to smile and picked one up. He noticed there were no Hollister markings on any of them. “That must be what the manager was yelling about”, he thought to himself. He stood up looked at it. It was a perfect size.
He liked it so mush that he took off his tattered old duster and the white under shirt that he had on and put on the hoodie. It was a perfect fit. It was tight in the waste, loose in the arms and it even had frost already forming around the neck and shoulders and sleeves. Jack thought it felt great, did a back flip, and threw the duster and undershirt on top of the dumpster and flew away laughing everywhere he went.