11pm Wishes

By Eule Vix

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!

**Please Read and Review!**

She stared down at the cold granite piece embedded in the earth. More than anything she wanted her love to console her right now on this day, but maybe it was more fitting for her to be alone while visiting her mother's grave. AU, Oneshot, Helga x Arnold, Hurt/Comfort, Romance Dark, RATED T

Helga had never been told how her mother died. However, anyone who knew what today was would be able to guess it as though they were trying to shoot the broad side of a barn.

Her eyes followed the ink being marked into the little pink book in her right hand. The thin purple pen in her left filling it's once blank portions and using it to craft the inner parts of her soul into words. She had been writing for hours, any slight glimpse of the spark of creativity she placed it permanently onto paper. Doodling, forming poems that came from the burning passion she had for a certain football headed boy, and carving out her feelings she had of the day. She needed to write, for it was one of the few refuges she had to escape her own room.

She had been forced to stay inside, as Big Bob usually made her do on when it came to today. It was a day that each year brought unwaveringly, a day that made Helga wish it could have been on a leap year day, or that it just hadn't existed at all. Phoebe knew, and she knew well that for this lonesome time it was best to be patient and wait till the day after or longer till there was any type of celebration, let alone consolement. Though Helga would have give up all of her books that she had bled for, or even her shrines, just to have some happy distraction from the looming cloud that embedded it's self into these twenty-four hours, it was however not her choice to be alone today.

Helga dotted the end of the sentence and found herself suddenly at a lost for anything more. Sure she could go into all the soul breaking pain and heart tearing longing that she wrote about every year, but now it just seemed as it was all mute for her to continue such a hurtful tradition.

She closed her book and looked at the clock. It was just passing ten at night, Bob was sure to be done shortly from drowning himself in the fantasy game of 'The Wheel' and stuffing himself with amber liquid, going to his room and giving himself to a tired sleep. Once Helga could hear his beer induced snores it would be time for her to sneak out of the convoluted prison Bob called their 'home'. However, she could still hear the TV's blubbering from downstairs, so she could only hope her escape to the sweet freedom of the cold city would come shortly.

She let the bound entry to her heart close and rested the purple item that helped her paint herself onto its pages beside it before she rolled onto her back and glowered at her celling.

WHY did this day have to exist? Why couldn't she and Bob just ignore that this day would come every year? It wouldn't be any different than any other day. Bob was almost never home, when he was he would either not utter a word to his youngest or if he did he would call her 'Olga' and forget instantly every word Helga spoke. It seemed like 364 days out of the year she was invisible, and on the one day he would call her by her name, her birth name, he would force her to stay home; even if that meant missing school. This year it just so happened to land on a Monday and so she had been excused from having to spend all day participating in what she currently found as a lot more entertaining the pacing, writing, and completing mindless tasks all day. Sure she spent a little time down stairs, mostly cleaning the mess that Bob always left in the kitchen, but she had boarded herself into her room knowing that if she didn't she would have to deal with a semi drunk and easily angered Bob. She learned many years ago that though he didn't normally drink he always did today, and it never turned out pretty, so it was always best to avoid him.

She took a quick gaze around her room, the blue-green wall with yellow hearts plastered in a pattern all over the wall. In places it peeled, as did most of the house since no one put forth any effort to help with the upkeep. Helga would have done it herself but she always found herself busy with her chores or her responsibilities for school. She was only ten, she couldn't up keep their hovel of a home alone! In the end she just did what she could when she was able.

Her furniture, which included just a desk, her bed, a small night stand, and a dresser, was mostly bare of any extra items on them. Her closet door was closed holding her ever changing shrine to Arnold, and her desk looked almost the same as when she had gotten it many years ago for she preferred to study at Phoebe's. On top of the desk lay a delicately made red paper rose, one she had made last week during an Art's-n-Crafts session Simmons had for the class. It wasn't the most skillful thing she had ever made, the rough construction paper misshapen at a few spots and the green pipe cleaner wire trailing out from the base. Even she could tell it was nothing special, but she was compelled to make it. It wasn't like anyone was going to be smelling it or putting it in a vase anyway, so it didn't matter if they were real or not. Besides, Helga felt that because she made the rough textured rose it was more sentimental and important than anything bought, even if the person it was for could never hold it.

Suddenly she felt that the air was laced with a unknown silence. She listened to see if there was any noises coming from downstairs and found no longer did Bob's show blast from the living room. Helga scrambled moving her diary and pen on to her night stand next to her clock shining the time 9:54pm and turned the little lamp lighting her room off. Her room suddenly dark she scampered under the covers knowing in less than a few more seconds Bob would come in and do a final check to make sure she was still inside. Two years ago he had found Helga to have left her room, the aftermath caused Helga to make sure to wait till she was sure he was sleeping before she left again.

When she thought of it she could still feel the welts the belt left on her rear sting and burn, despite that they had long since healed.

She was snug under her pink covers and proceeded to slow her breathing. She went stiff in a position she wanted Bob to see as 'sleeping'. She heard the movement of Bob's footsteps just hitting the top of the stairs and pause in from of her door. Her muscles started to scream as she made the metal frame of the bed seem softer then how ridged she was as the door to her room cried upon its opening. Her eyes strained on the wall in front of her since she had her back to her door, the shadow of her Dad reaching across her out of the light of the hall way. He just stood there, she was sure he was watching her sleeping figure for any movement. He didn't seem satisfied and stumbled into the room. Helga closed her eyes and did her best to relax her face so she wouldn't tip off Bob.

She felt him loom over her as he looked into his daughter's face, seeing that she was, as far as he could tell, sound asleep. She heard Bob grunt deeply, accompanied by more heavy steps that started to lead away from her bed and out her door. He paused when he got to the door frame. Helga started to sweat as she still retained her eyes closed, a small fire curling all over her body and she refrained from even twitching if she suddenly got the urge. His voice, a little slurred, rang like a broken bell in a dead city throughout the house.

"Happy Birthday Helga." He then closed the door and he could be heard stomping towards his bedroom. Helga realized that she was holding her breath and desperately needed to breathe causing her to gasp for air. Once she got her breath back she proceeded to eagerly wait for his signal so she could be free to leave.

'Yeah Bob, some birthday.' Helga thought. Today was March 25, a day she longed to have never exist. Today was the day Helga was born, and the day that her mother, Miriam, died.

[+]-[+]-[+]

Around eleven she began to hear his snores, they seemed loud enough to shake the windows. While waiting she had refused to move or turn on any lights, just leaving herself to sitting in the dark. Now she could quietly maneuver getting ready what she could without much noise, put her shoes on, re-do her hair, re-place her pink bow onto its rightful place. She was only able to prep beforehand the stuff she felt Bob would see as 'normal' if she left it by her bed, allowing her the ability to not wake up the sleeping ogre in the next room. After a few minutes she was ready to see her Mom. She lightly tiptoed over to her desk and gently lifted the rose from the wooden surface and placed it in her hair so she could free up her hands. She then grabbed her shoes and silently put them on. Once she was ready to slip out and wondered over to her bed and kneeled on it so she could inch her window open.

A cool light breeze fluttered around her fingers and into the room as she got the first few inches of the window to release and soon she could feel it all over her upper body as its jaws were fully open. She was glad Bob closed her door, that way he would be less likely to notice the cold front entering the room. She nimbly climbed onto a branch that was very close to her window then shimmied the pane till there was just enough room for her to slip her hands back underneath it again when she got back. She then clambered down the tree to the sidewalk and quickly ran towards Hillwood Cemetery.

As she briskly moved she felt the cold begin to sink in. If she felt she couldn't risk it to leave the sweater out like she did last year, he almost found out then and she wasn't willing to try again. She cursed herself for forgetting to fiddle with her closet door so it didn't squeak so loudly. For now she wore her normal pink dress with the red stripe and a white shirt under it. She briefly wondered why Bob was over obsessive with keeping her in one place for this day. It wasn't her fault she was dead….right?

She forcibly moved her thoughts lest she wanted to start going back to dark places.

Soon she reached the cemetery gates, normally every day they would be locked up and closed tightly with a steel chain, but it seemed that in light of all the hardship Helga felt she had to endure every day fate was on her side for just this night as the grounds keep forgot to lock the gate.

She pushed the heavy gate open and slid inside. She glanced around, the wind making the hem of her dress flutter gently as she stood there. She took a deep breath and started on a path she had come to know well. She soon stood in from of her intended destination. She stared down at the cold granite piece embedded into the earth. More than anything she wanted her love to console her right now on this day, but maybe it was more fitting for her to be alone while visiting her mother's grave. Helga's face started to feel particularly cold and she started to visibly shake. After a moment she fell to her knees front of her mother's place of rest. The destructive thoughts she had been fighting all day, that she fought every year, and that she would battle every few weeks started to plague her as though sticking her soul repeatedly with a rapier, the blood that came from her were her tears streaming down her face. They felt as frozen as the loneliness she felt swelling in her heart.

"Hi...Mom." Helga said weakly. She reached and plucked the flower from her hair and with two hands laid it down in from of her grave. "I...I made this...for you." She paused for a long time, thinking of what to say. It wasn't odd when she rambled to herself, but it always felt odd for her to 'talk' to her dead Mother. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to block out the frigid cold and warm herself if possible. She started to think of how she wished she wasn't here alone, freezing, and uncared for. She wished that her Dad would have taken her death better and had been here with her. That instead of telling her multiple times on this day that "She's dead and it's your fault!" he would morn with Helga. When it came to her that's all he ever said about her death, that it was Helga's fault.

Her hands started to dig into the skin on her arms. She needed to stop thinking of her mother but all she could fall upon for though was how she, a ten year old girl, was alone in a graveyard with no one in the world giving a care or second glace. She wished that Arnold, that stupid naive foot-ball headed dork, would have cared that she didn't show up to school today, that it was her birthday, and that he would be here with her. She felt like her body was being torn in half from her need to see the young boy with the golden hair every day, and her woe that seemed as a black devil dancing in pleasure of her misery from a suppressed love. She regretted agreeing with Arnold's 'heat of the moment' suggestion when she confessed. She desired for him to have given her an answer and though it was against all odd she pleaded with fate, the stars, the moon even, to have him reciprocate her feelings.

But he didn't. When he said those words he obviously wanted to forget her confession, and she just agreed thinking it would help make everything go back to what it was before. Again, this was 'her' fault; she had been so ruthlessly mean to him for so many years it didn't matter if she changed or had even given him the moon. She already knew his answer and again it was her fault. Helga started to sob.

"It's…..my fault…isn't it?"

Everything had always been her fault hadn't it? She was always the bane of her classmates, she caused so many pain, with Arnold she was his ever present torturer of his youth. It was her fault that Arnold probably hated her and it was her fault her mother was dead.

She wished she had never died. Helga started to think what if she just survived whatever it was that had caused her death. Helga was sure she died during child birth; it wasn't much to put two and two together. But she never dared to ask Bob and Bob never gave any details. So she could be wrong, it could have been something even like a car accident on the way home from the hospital. If it had been in child birth, what if she had instead pulled though? What would her mother be like? Would she talk with her daughter, help her though the thought times she had? Maybe she would have made her life easier with the upkeep of the house or made everyday living much more gratifying. Would she dolt over Olga as Bob would have? Would she have been a lazy slob as Bob was? Would she force Helga to do 'girly' stuff with her on a weekly basis? All of these Helga thought of, even in the worst of the questions they all seemed as though the world would have still be at least a little better.

"Wh...Why did you have to go! What caused you to leave us Mom!" Helga found herself screaming "How could...you leave me? Why...IS it my fault? What did I do to be cursed like this?" She couldn't tell if she was shaking any more or if it was from her weeping. She didn't know what she was saying, she just felt like she had so many answers that she wanted and that she would never get. She wanted the world to change so she wasn't the loser in this game of life, so things could be better. She wanted it to no longer be 'her' fault. Her arms left her side as she planted them firmly on the ground. Hovering over the epitaph.

"I...I just...want...to be...happy." she managed to say between heaves of her cries, streams of tears falling from her face and onto the dark stone.

After a few more minutes Helga slowly started to calm down a bit. She didn't feel much better, but at least enough to stop crying.

"S-sorry Mom. That was...building up I guess" she wiped her face with her arms trying to dry it from the tears. Once she felt she had removed enough of the liquid from her face she stood up and decided to head home before some random cop came around and found her past 'curfew' and returned her home. She was soon at the gate and stopped, looking out into the empty streets and shops near the cemetery.

She easily realized she didn't want to go home, and soon found herself making her way to Arnold's home.

The streets were quiet, she didn't care if there was the occasional car or lovey-dovey older couple that would go by, no one paid her any attention anyway, as though she was invisable. She thought how her face probably looked tear stained and red from all her crying, regardless of the icy breeze.

Eleven minutes later from when she was knelling in from of the grave she found herself now across the street from the Sunset Arms Boarding House. She soaked in all of its details, its red brick color, sturdy forest green door, and the warm glow that came from the lights inside of the home. How she longed to be inside of that building with her beloved, how she wanted him to hold her and say sweet nothings to her so that it would ebb what pain she had.

She slumped to the ground and leaned against the structure behind her. 'Yeah, like that would happen. It's time to get realistic Helga Old Girl. This 'you and Arnold' thing? Let's face it.' She curled up bringing her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs before dipping her head between her arms. 'It will never happen.' Helga had run out of tears for the day.

She didn't know how long she had been there, but she was suddenly broken out of her mental trap when she heard a large stampede of animals, grunting, crying, and snorting. She lifted her head to immediately have her eyes meet that of Arnold's as he stood in his door way. Panicked she jumped up and madly looked up and down the street trying to figure out if she should run and if so which way.

"Helga? What are you doing here?" He sounded very concerned for her, she immediately responded out of habit.

"N-nothing Football head! I was just taking a walk, is that a crime or something?!"

"Helga," His eyes were half lidded as he frowned at the girl. "it's 11:22 at night." He jogged down the steps and briskly ran towards her as she dusted herself off. She threw daggers at him with her eyes hoping it would fend him off.

"What do YOU know geek-bait! Just lay off ok!" She clenched her fist tightly and held it threateningly at him as he came closer to her. She stopped shaking her fist threateningly when she saw his eyes go wide.

"Helga! What happened to your arms?!" He grabbed the arm she had been holding as a threat and she notice that she not only had red nail marks from herself but she had dug in so much that she had caused herself to bleed. She jerked her arm back alarmed and quickly hid both of her limbs behind her back.

"N-nothing, I fell while walking in the park and got scratched up a bit." His eyes narrowed dangerously, she knew he wasn't buying it. "There were also tons of bugs ya know! I couldn't help but itch when they bit." She tried to giggle lightly hoping he would buy that at least.

No dice. Arnold was done talking.

He moved to the side of her and secured her with his hand again and began to drag her inside. She tried to get out of his grasp half-heartedly and only managed to wince as she started to feel the pain of the small cuts. She cursed how small cuts only seemed to hurt once you realized they existed.

She soon found herself inside and in Arnold's living room. He told her to stay there while he quickly rushed to retrieve some medical supplies. Helga felt twitch, she was inside his house, and this time it wasn't to gets something of a more personal nature back into her hands or to save herself from having her darkest secret told. She felt a pressure on her shoulders as though the house was going to swallow her, it was just too weird for her to be inside here on good terms. She needed to get out. She silently moved off of the couch and headed to for the large wooden portal back to the crisp outdoors so she could run home and get in bed before Bob could find her gone. Before she could get to the door though he came bounding down the stairs and forced her back inside.

Without a word, and an obvious scowl on his face, which despite the situation Helga found ironic, he commenced taking cotton swabs, dabbed in a bit of hydrogen-peroxide, and touching them on each wound. Helga hissed with every touch and continued to say insults and protest against him trying to help her; even though inside she kept swooning over the fact that he was just touching her.

After Arnold was finally satisfied with her condition, meaning she now had four to five band aids on each arm, he settled to glared at her his deep green eyes demanding to know the answers to the many questions he had and he wasn't going to let her go without getting them.

"Helga." He obviously strained to keep his voice level. "What exactly happened? You look like you got into a fight with someone." Helga could feel herself shake a little again, and now that she was in a much warmer place she knew it wasn't the cold. However she was exhausted from the stress of the day and all the fight she had she lost halfway through him healing her. She didn't have to fight him to keep from telling him anything though. She moved her sight away from him, being silent as she thought of what answer she could give him that he would believe and just let her go.

"This is hardly how you should be spending your birthday Helga." She froze. 'He...he remembered it was my birthday?' Helga was completely shocked, and hurt. It made all the feelings she had in front of her Mothers grave start to resurface again. He knew it was her birthday but she was sure that no one else knew her Mother died today as well. He already had parental problems with him not having his parents, he didn't need her parental problems. He didn't need her to remind him that despite everything she still has at least half of what he doesn't. She didn't want to talk about this with him, if she could avoid it.

"It's...not a big deal Arnold." it wasn't a whisper, but she could feel the sadness in her own voice and she gently spoke. "Look, I need to get heading-"

"No! Helga you always shut me out!" She heard him move from the plush chair he had been sitting in to the left of the couch, he was standing now and obvious anger in his voice. "I don't know who you would find to at this time of night that would do that to you but please Helga tell me what's wrong! I can help you just have to tell me what happened!"

"You, really, want to what happened?"

"Yes!" She peered at him, he was boring his eyes into her as his fists were tightly balled and pulled next to his side. 'I must have somehow pushed him to far somehow. Why else would he be so angry?'

"I did it to myself. You know now, are you happy?" Arnold was mute. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. What did it matter if she told him, it's not like it mattered. She was only running away from herself. Her fate to be cursed and looked upon and pitied by everyone. She would tell him. "I was..." she hesitated, she planned to give up on him anyway, she bet if she asked him he would keep it a secret for a little while. She would have plenty of time to prepare for any downfall that might happen. Not only that he might just throw her out because she'll be re-hashing his wounds in the process. Helga sighed, "I was visiting the cemetery...I went to see my Mother. She died today so I had to go see her." There was a hush between them. Tears were starting to form again at the corners of her eyes, and just when she thought she was dry for the night.

"I'll be leaving..." she gave him the truth, and obviously the voicelessness from him meant that she would be free to go. He did nothing and probably cared nothing for her, so before she could break she needed to cast herself back onto the streets and head home. Before she could lift off of the couch she was suddenly pulled into a strong hug, he held her close to him. He had hugged her before but the strength that she felt from him was unlike any other time; even that one time he was happy to see her. She needed to get away. "Let me go Arnold!" Her voice cracked as she was obviously at the edge of weeping again. He just squeezed tighter. "Arnold just let me go!"

"Stop it Helga!" He pulled back from her holding her still at arm's length. She could see that his anger was replaced with some form of terrible sadness, she couldn't pin it but attributed it to that her lack of a mother hit home with him. "You're hurting Helga. I..." his words seemed to get caught in his throat, she was spinning in her head, she didn't know what she was doing anymore but went with her instinct.

"No one cares if I'm hurting or not Arnoldo. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Obviously I care! I'm trying to help you right now!"

"Newsflash, you try to help everyone. But this is just one problem that you can't fix." He now had let go of her his fists back at his side, face flush with anger.

"I can at least try!" It was her turn now to start getting enraged.

"You want to fix my problems Football Head? You really want to try?! Fine then Arnold, please create a time machine and fix the fact that I was the reason my Mom died! Or maybe you can convince Bob it's better to morn her at her grave instead of just ogling TV all day and guzzling beer! Oh, or better yet, convince him to let me outside for my birthday!" She didn't know how loud she was, if she was waking up any of the boarders she didn't care, after this she was gone, and she would do her best to never speak or see the boy again.

"I told you Arnold, you can't fix my problems! Heck even the one that you could fix I already know you won't do anything about! You didn't answer me then why would you now?!" She let her arms drop to her side, she realized she was standing, she didn't know when but since she was she decided to turn towards the direction of her freedom and run as fast as she could. Before she could Arnold again held her back from leaving, his grasp on her shoulders again present.

"Your right, I can't fix most of those Helga. But I can at least try to be there for you. And you are not the reason for your Mother's death, it doesn't matter what happened. Regardless of that if she was alive of not she would be happy that you are." Helga turned to look at him, she needed to see his face for that was the first time anyone had said that to her. He was oddly smiling at her. "I know I am."

Nothing mattered anymore; she collapsed to the floor onto her knees sobbing for the second time that night. It wasn't the heart tearing sobs she had earlier but rather just cried out of grief and the loss of her Mother, for this time as she wept Arnold held her as she cried on his shoulder.

[+]-[+]-[+]

They had indeed woken up the boarders, luckily Gertie and Phil had kept the tenants from sneaking peeks downstairs and urged them back to bed once things had quieted down. Helga had finished crying and cleaned herself up a bit using the downstairs bathroom. When she came back she found Arnold's Grandma in the room with two cups of Hot Chocolate. It didn't matter what mood Helga was in she loved chocolate. As the two of them sipped on their cocoa and Gertie had left Arnold decided it was time to break the silence.

"What did you mean by, needing an 'answer' from me Helga?" She tensed up again, another question she didn't want to answer and thought he might in the end make her give up as well. 'I might be tired but you won't get me that easy bucko.'

"You...don't remember?" 'Let's see what he's thinking of.' she sulked as she watched the surface of her drink.

"Well, y-you said a year ago right?" She couldn't help but notice his voice was cracking slightly. She raised an eyebrow, 'Is he, nervous?' "As far as questions that I didn't answer I can't recall you truly asking me anything in particular." Her eyes traveled to look at him. He was holding his hot coco close to his face currently and was taking a quick sip, his face seeming a bit flush from the heat of the liquid. 'My guts says that's not from the steam.'

"Well. It wasn't exactly a question hair-boy." As she finished her sentence he paused mid sip, Helga noticing the steam from the cup seemed to really be getting to him. After a moment he quickly drained the final drops from his cup and clanked the cup against the table in front of them. 'Yep, definitely not the steam. But what's he so nervous about, I'm the one who should be nervous…' Helga mused at how she found herself oddly calm, though she knew it wouldn't last. Not on this topic.

"Ah. Well, um, doesn't my Grandma make a good cup of hot chocolate?" He had a wide grin on his face as the red started to let up. The wheels in Helga's head were turning, running a frantic pace trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. There was something she was missing, something big, and if it's what she thought she needed the answer now. She couldn't tell if it was 'good' or 'bad' yet, but she needed to know because it had definitely been on his mind.

"Don't try to change the subject bucko." She placed her cup down; she was fairly sure but wanted to be really sure before trying to break her own heart. "Why don't you tell me what you're think I'm talking about?" She locked eyes with him as he started to twiddle his thumbs.

"Ah, um, well. If I'm right, then, uh, it would be related to um..." He made a gulping sound as he was trying to seemingly get himself to say the last part of his sentence, now Helga was getting nervous. "a particular building..." Helga could no longer look at him, he knew, had thought about it, and obviously the whole 'heat of the moment' didn't stop him from thinking that it wasn't a lie and it was real. What was more important was that he had actually thought about it.

Maybe she really wasn't ready for his answer, but she dug her own grave. She could live from this point in her life knowing that Arnold helped her at least once, on his own free will, she had though for many nights of how she just wished he would think about that day, but now that he had she was scared that his answer would break her and she would no longer be the Helga she was now. Helga didn't say a word to him, and instead simply nodded. Helga swore if a clock was in the room it would echo so tremendously that the boarders would have been woken up again, but still the stillness continued. Helga noted how often this seemed to be happening, but didn't take any action. He was the one she wanted an answer from, her walls were down for the most part because she was too frazzled to keep them up. This might be the last chance she would ever get to hear what he thought of her, if he...reciprocated her feeling even in the slightest. She didn't care how long she had to wait; she was going to hear his answer. Arnold finally spoke.

"I want to hear you say it." Helga's eyes enlarged as she suddenly snapped to look up at Arnold. 'Did he seriously just say that?'

"W-what did you say?!"

"I-I said, I want to hear you, um, say it. Your question I mean." She could clearly see he was blushing an obvious deep red. Helga's world seemed to stop, her brain shut down, she could not believe what she was hearing, and seeing. She started to laugh.

"Ok that's it, I've gone crazy! That or I must be dreaming, yeah I probably for some odd reason fell asleep while I was visiting Miriam's grave!" She then slapped herself hard across the face, just to make absolutely there was no room for error. When she did Arnold jumped up and put his hand on her cheek and used his other hand to grab the hand that she used to strike herself with.

"Helga! What are you doing?" Helga's eyes held nothing but shock as she ignored the worry tone Arnold had.

"I'm...not dreaming." Now she didn't know if she could say what he wanted her to say. Now that it was real.

"Helga promise me you won't do that again! Please!" Helga was still dazed 'I'm NOT dreaming!' Arnold then grasped her shoulders and shook her as he's panic started to set in. "Helga!" She finally snapped back into reality and gripped his arms to stop him from shaking her anymore.

"Ok, ok! I promise! Now please stop shaking me!" Arnold let go of her and sighed a small smile playing on his face. He went back to his seat and slumped down obviously relieved that everything was well again. But Helga was now, unsure if she wanted to tell him, to say what he was asking her to say. What if she did lose him, and he no longer wanted to even be her friend after this? Yeah she was going to let him go but, would she really have gone through with it? Would she be able to do it?

With all the things that are wrong with her life could she really give up the one who brings her the only piece of hope she ever had?

In her head her own words echoed. 'I...I just...want...to be...happy.'

Yes, she did want to be happy, she would give ANYTHING to be what others called 'happy'. It just always seemed like where ever she walked, whatever she did, or whatever she wanted would always in some way come back to bite her in the ass or hurt her if she did actually get it. She had learn to deal with the hand fate gave her but lately she had been learning the true meaning of what 'despression' was. She had lost a lot of what motivated her except for her escapes in her diary. At school she had continued bullying Arnold but had been slowing her rate of actual homework turned in. And tonight was not the first night that she had been thinking of 'What if she just disappeared?'.

But Helga was tough, she wouldn't let herself lose easily, but even she could tell she was quickly losing that fight too. Now she was at a pass. She could take the first step towards trying to be happy or stay as she was. It ultimately came down to 'Is it all worth the risk?' She didn't notice Arnold studying her as her face made various changes as she fought within herself. Arnold however waited for her, unsure of really what to do with her. After a few minutes though he decided to try to get her attention and waved his hand in front of her. When he did her eyes came back into focus and she proceeded to stare at him.

"You ok Helga?" She had to make a choice, and she didn't know if she should follow her heart or her head. She closed her eyes tight as she made her choice. "Helga?"

"Arnold!" 'Shit, that came out a bit harsh! Damn it Helga get it together!' "S-sorry. Um, Arnold. I." She paused and bit her lower lip.

"You?"

"I'm getting to it geez hold your horses!" Helga took a deep breath trying to relax herself. Now or never. "I 've always, kinda, oh ya know liked you." She rubbed the back of her head. "Well, maybe more like like you..." Her hands moved to fiddle with her hair, she felt like she was about to pull it out. As her fingers laced with her blonde hair she felt like she might as well have been a balloon blown up to the point that she was going to burst, and she was scared. She gripped her hair, a pig tail in each hand as she pulled down on both of them. "Ok! Ok maybe I more than just like like you!" She took another breath and then let her pig tails go. "Arnold, I...I love you. And, I wanted to know...how you felt about me." She wanted to throw everything she could get her hands on, tell it was again a heat of the moment thing and run out of the building. But she made her choice, and she was honestly tired of running. She already started to accept her heart break as she continued. "I know that you probably don't even like me. I mean I haven't been the nicest person on the planet. So...if you don't want to see me ever again, I would totally understand. I mean I've -"

There was a light weight with a warm touch that was now pressing against Helga's cheek. She looked to her left and saw Arnold sitting next to her. She was about to ask him what he was doing, but she was cut short as his lips pressed against her's.

Her Body seemed to explode and tingle everywhere. She pushed her lips into his as the world fell away and it seemed to her as though they were the only two to have ever existed. Electricity seemed to creep up and down her skin sending waves of pleasure and serenity throughout her core. All of her worries melted for that one moment and in that one moment she was happy and nothing else. After what seemed meer seconds he pulled away from her breaking their kiss. His eyes were half lidded, a blush was across his cheeks, and few strands of his corn-flower hair hung in his face.

"I think, I love you too Helga."

[+]-[+]-[+]

She had heard of a superstition once that Phoebe of all people had told her. That if you wish for something at 11:11PM or AM, within that minute if you wish hard enough that your wish will come true. She remembered that while she was at her mother's grave there was a LOT of things she wished for, hoped for, dreamed for. She wasn't sure but she remembered Arnold commenting that it was 11:22 when she showed up at his house that night. If she believed in superstitions, and if by some chance she had made some wishes during that time. Who was to say they wouldn't come true?

As she walked up towards PS 118 in the distance she noticed a particular football head that she needed to go and give a morning 'gift' to before class started.

Whether it was by some wish, or maybe even just a sudden change in fate, or better yet help from her Mother long lost years ago, it didn't matter.

Out of everything that had happened or could happen, Helga Pataki was happy. And right now that's all that mattered.

Author's Note: So I went back and did some edits. Should flow better. :) This was originally written when I had very little sleep and this idea wouldn't let me sleep till I got it written, was done at 6am the next day! Hehehe, anyway I enjoyed it and I hope you did as well. :) There is going to be a small additional chap, just to explain something that I feel needs to be explained. It should be up already if this edit is up so please enjoy it though it's short! If you have any questions please feel free to ask them and don't forget to review!