[A/N: Well, I said I wasn't going to do it... I lied XD Indeed I am starting another story (though I have absolutely NO intention of abandoning Say Something. I already have part of the next chapter in progress but... well... inspiration struck me and I had to get this out...
So, before we begin, I wrote this all in ONE SITTING. It's also almost 2 am and I've been writing for like... 5 or 6 hours? Forgive me if there are stupid typos or what have you (also, my 'o' key is giving me hell for some reason so any missing o's... that's why).
I don't know if/to what to degree anyone has done a story like this before BUT I had the idea and I wanted to write it out so this is MY version of this type of thing. I'm sure there are tons of movies and TV shows that do this...
I'm gonna stop blabbering now and just get on with it.
I don't own Hey Arnold. Meh.]
Birds sang from the treetops as tender buds on the ends of the branches symbolized the impending flourish of green. It was the end of March and most students were groaning as they trekked up the steps to Hillwood High's main entrance, dragging their feet in the futile hope that they could keep one foot still in spring break.
The air outside was getting warmer but there was still a chill that warranted a light jacket. Helga was coming from the student parking lot, stomping her way up to the building with her ever-present scowl etched on her face. Not very much had changed over the years; Helga was still the same sarcastic, sharp-tongued girl she'd always been. She was guarded and unwilling to let anyone know how sensitive she actually was or how deep the still waters of her emotions truly ran.
She noticed Arnold standing with a group of people near the front entrance, laughing, talking. His smile always had a way of warming her heart but she hid that, too. She told him how she felt many years ago in a whirlwind of raw emotion on the rooftop of FTi but when everything settled down, they'd agreed it was all "in the heat of the moment". Perhaps Arnold wasn't ready to acknowledge the fact that his almost-lifelong bully actually possessed a love for him that could pick him up like a wave and bring him crashing down to earth, sputtering and confused, dizzy and disoriented by her passion. Maybe he actually did think she didn't mean the things she said – that she loved him, wrote poetry for him… made… shrines of him? That her kiss and the dreamy way she'd gazed into his eyes had been nothing more than an adrenaline rush. Or… maybe he believed her and just wanted to let her down gently.
Helga never found out. She couldn't bear the thought of bringing up that incident and the inevitable embarrassment that would ensue. So she pocketed the memory, hiding it away and pretending it never happened though she yearned to confess to him that it was real. It had always been real and she meant every word. But hiding it was only made easier by the fact that Arnold didn't try to bring it up again either.
They went through the years as they always had – Arnold being his typical calm, patient, good-natured self and Helga stewing in a pot of her own regrets, insecurities, and defense mechanisms. They resumed the relationship they had once had, more or less. Helga continued to pick on him, teasing him and taunting him, and when she wasn't doing that she was avoiding him, condemning herself to pine alone in the quiet corners of her mind where her heart finally could break free of its cage.
"Good morning, Helga!" Phoebe called. She was standing with Gerald and Arnold as part of the group over by the entrance. Phoebe and Gerald had been dating for two years now, ever since the Homecoming dance freshman year.
"Hey Pheebs," Helga greeted her best friend with a lackluster response. She wasn't exactly a morning person.
Phoebe encouraged Helga to join their little circle and Helga rolled her eyes in response, though she didn't walk away.
"Hi Helga," Arnold said politely. "Did you have a good spring break?"
Helga scoffed. "What's it to you?" She said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
"I was just asking," Arnold said under his breath.
"And I was just trying to get a few moments of peace before school without being interrogated by football-headed dweebs," She shot back.
"Here we go," Rhonda whispered to Nadine, both of whom were standing in the circle. Most of the kids from P.S. 118 stuck together since they'd essentially grown up together. Of course they made friends with the other students who'd gone to different grade schools but were zoned for Hillwood High but there was still an evident pattern. Helga, however, had increasingly become the "black sheep" of the group and most people were tired of her angry outbursts.
"Why do you have to be so mean all the time, Helga?" Arnold asked, getting frustrated.
"Why do you have to be such a loser all the time, Arnoldo?" Helga retorted in a mocking tone.
"Got-damn, would ya'll chill for once?" Gerald interjected, rubbing his temples.
"Pfft," Helga rolled her eyes but hushed.
"Anyway," Rhonda said, changing the subject. "Arnold, did you ask Lila if she'll be able to make it tonight?"
"I sent her a text this morning but she hasn't responded yet," Arnold replied, his tone much calmer than it had been moments ago. "I don't think it should be a problem, though,"
Helga shifted uncomfortably. Arnold and Lila had started dating a couple weeks ago and it made her nauseated just to think about it. She'd managed to avoid seeing them together. She realized that the schemes she carried out before didn't actually help but rather caused her to witness things that only made her blood boil and her stomach turn – seeing Arnold holding hands, hugging, and especially kissing a girl other than herself did nothing but bring her pain. She really loved him and even though she didn't have the courage to own up to it and even though she masked her insecurities and fears with a façade of anger and hostility, she still couldn't handle the torment of even seeing him with someone else and knowing that she didn't have a chance.
"I've gotta go," Helga said abruptly and broke away from the group.
"Okay, Helga, I-!" Phoebe called after her friend but she was already headed inside.
"I don't know how you do it, Phoebe," Gerald said, shaking his head.
"Do what?" She asked in her sweet, chipper voice.
Gerald jerked a thumb behind him toward the doors Helga had just gone through. "Put up with her,"
. . . . . . . .
"What is the matter with me?" Helga said in anguish as she burst through the girls' bathroom door. A freshman was checking herself out in the mirror and turned to Helga in surprise but when she was met with a glare she quickly darted out.
"Why must I be so cruel? Why can't I relinquish my hold on this mask I've carried for all these years?" Helga leaned back against one of the sinks and sighed. "Is this all there is?" She asked the empty room. "Am I doomed to live each day, pining and yearning for nothing more than a kind look to which I can only respond with a biting tongue and a cold stare, even though my heart pounds in my chest in the hope that he may understand and know the truth…?" Helga turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was longer and pulled into low ponytails that rested on her shoulders. "What curse is this that I must spend each day paying witness to such incongruence in my life? Why am I such a coward, hiding away behind secrets and lies…? She sighed just as the first period warning bell rang signaling to everyone they had five minutes to get to their first class.
First period history class was Helga's least favorite as she didn't really have any friends or people she knew in the class. The only people from P.S. 118 in here were Peapod Kid and Gloria, neither of whom she had any type of worthwhile relationship with. So Helga zoned out, pulling out a special purple notebook writing poems for the next hour.
. . . . . . . .
Arnold and Gerald had math together for third period right before lunch.
"Hey Gerald," Arnold whispered as they worked out problems on a handout. "Do you know if Helga is coming tonight?"
"God, I hope not," Gerald muttered as he wrote then looked up. "Why?"
"I'm just wondering," Arnold shrugged. "I wasn't sure if maybe Phoebe invited her to come, too,"
"Not that I'm aware of," Gerald shook his head. "And honestly, don't you think it's better that way?"
"I dunno," Arnold sat his pencil down for a moment. "I mean, she's still our friend, right?"
"Ha!" Gerald guffawed. "Whatever you say, Arnold,"
Arnold just sighed and resumed his work.
"Do you need me to give you a ride tonight?" Gerald asked quietly.
"Nah, I don't think so," Arnold replied as he erased something on his worksheet. "Lila doesn't live that far from the bowling alley and I'd like to walk her home,"
"Aww, isn't that sweet?" Gerald teased, batting his eyelashes and clasping his hands together.
"Yeah, yeah," Arnold said with a smirk and a roll of his eyes.
"Ya know, I never thought you guys would get together again after the fourth grade," Gerald said.
"What?" Arnold turned to him. "Why?"
"Arnold, she dumped you like, 50 times and you still followed her around like a lovesick puppy. When you were done, I thought you were done, man," He replied. "Don't get me wrong – no hate, I'm just still surprised, I guess,"
Arnold shrugged. "I guess everyone gets second chances,"
. . . . . . . .
The rest of the schoolday went by uneventfully – a typical day.
Helga was stomping down the hall almost immediately after the final bell rang. The sooner she could leave, the better. But what was she going home to? A blow-hard dad who couldn't remember her name and an alcoholic mom? It seemed that no matter where she was, she was always trying to get away from something.
She wasn't paying attention when she turned the corridor and collided with a certain football-head, both of them stumbling back from the impact and barely catching themselves from falling.
"Arnold!" She yelped when she realized it was him.
"Oh, sorry, Helga," Arnold immediately apologized.
Helga shook her head, snapping herself out of her momentary daze. "Get your head out of the clouds, moron, and watch where you're walking!" She yelled in his face.
Arnold's eyes narrowed but he took a breath and reminded himself of what he wanted to ask her. "A bunch of us from the neighborhood are going bowling tonight. Do you wanna come, too?"
Helga's breath caught in her throat. Arnold was inviting her to come hang out with them? Her excitement was cut short by the quick realization that Lila would be there and that put a sour taste in her mouth. "Yeah right. What makes you think I'd want to hang out with you?"
Arnold let out an exasperated sigh. "I was just asking,"
"Yeah, well, next time save your breath!" Helga called as Arnold was already starting to walk away. "I'd rather let maggots eat my flesh!"
"Fine," Arnold called back to her without turning around.
Once he was far enough away, Helga's haughty stance deflated and she let out a sad sigh as she walked to the parking lot.
"Hey Pheebs, you wanna come over and hang out tonight?" Helga said as she caught up with Phoebe heading to her car.
"Actually, Helga," Phoebe said with some regret. "I'm afraid I already have plans tonight,"
"Oh," Helga said, pulling on her backpack's straps. "I guess you're goin' out with all those guys tonight?" She asked, referring to their group of friends from P.S. 118 – the one she didn't quite fit into anymore.
"Well, yes…" Phoebe said quietly. As far as she knew, Helga hadn't been invited and even if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't come anyway knowing Arnold would be there with Lila. It was still too fresh. "…Raincheck?"
"Sure, Pheebs," Helga said with a sigh.
. . . . . . . .
"I'm having ever so much fun!" Lila beamed as she walked back to her friends after scoring a spare and sat down next to Arnold.
"That was great, Lila!" Arnold said cheerfully and put his arm around her.
They were the quintessential "nice" couple. Lila was still as sweet and bubbly as she'd always been and Arnold had always liked that about her. For a long time Lila hadn't wanted a relationship with Arnold but a few weeks ago they'd been partners for a science project and couldn't ignore how well they got along, or the fact that they did indeed find one another attractive.
Liking Lila was simple. It fit like a worn glove.
After they played a couple games, everyone – Phoebe, Gerald, Arnold, Lila, Rhonda, Nadine, Stinky, and Harold – milled out of the bowling alley into the night. The streetlights were on and the stars were barely visible in a sky full of clouds.
Everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Gerald and Phoebe getting into Gerald's car and Arnold and Lila beginning their walk to Lila's house.
"I'm so glad we did that," Lila said, walking arm-in-arm with Arnold. It did surprise her a little bit that she'd decided to give this thing with Arnold a chance but honestly, it felt different this time. She'd never felt butterflies in her stomach when it came to Arnold, until now.
"Yeah, it was a lot of fun," Arnold said, sneaking a glance at her and smiling.
When they got to Lila's house, she climbed one step and turned around. Arnold placed a hand on the railing and smiled up at her.
"Thanks for walking me home, Arnold," Her smile stretched from ear to ear. "You're just ever so sweet,"
Arnold picked up her hand and kissed it. "Anytime,"
Lila giggled and bent down, leaving a kiss on Arnold's cheek that caused his face to flush pink.
"Goodnight, Arnold,"
Arnold grinned dopily. "Goodnight, Lila,"
He watched her go inside before turning and heading down the sidewalk. It was about a fifteen minute walk home but that didn't bother Arnold – he was used to walking around this neighborhood and enjoyed taking walks alone sometimes. It gave him the chance to think, to sort out any problems he was facing and try to come to some sort of understanding of the things going on in his life.
It was in one of these daydreams that Arnold was suddenly yanked off the sidewalk and into a dark alley. The streetlight nearby was burned out and trash cans clanged against one another as Arnold was shoved up against the side of a brick building by two guys, somewhat bigger than him.
They were both wearing jeans and dark hoodies with the hoods pulled up so Arnold couldn't get a good look at them.
"Gimme your wallet," One of them said as he held Arnold against the wall.
"Get off of me!" Arnold struggled against the guy and the other one sucker-punched Arnold in the gut, causing him to double-over.
"Shut up!" The first guy whispered harshly into Arnold's face, the slightest bit of spit coming out with his words. "I said, 'Gimme your fuckin' wallet!'"
"Alright, alright!" Arnold said and the guy let him go. The two guys watched as Arnold started to go into his backpocket but without warning, Arnold turned around and kicked the first guy in the face, sending him backwards into a trashcan. He didn't have time to react before the second guy grabbed Arnold by the neck and shoved him against the wall again, the back of his head slamming into the brick.
Arnold was dizzy from the impact and he was immediately overwhelmed by a splitting headache. His vision was hazy and he didn't notice the guy he kicked was getting up. Nor did he notice the flash of metal that he had pulled from his pocket.
. . . . . . . .
It was about midnight and Gerald was wondering why he hadn't heard from Arnold yet. He'd texted him a couple hours ago asking how his walk with Lila went but with no response. He tried to call him twice and both times the phone rang and rang until it went to voicemail.
Finally Gerald decided to text Lila and ask if Arnold was still with her.
No, I'm afraid he isn't. Is everything ok?
I dunno. I haven't been able to get ahold of him.
A few minutes later Lila replied.
I just tried to call him but he didn't pick up. Do you think we should be worried?
Nah, I'm sure he's fine. Thanks, Lila.
. . . . . . . .
Grandpa was just coming out of the bathroom when he heard some noise coming from upstairs. As he walked closer and closer he realized it was coming from Arnold's room.
"What the halibut could that be?" He muttered to himself as he ascended Arnold's staircase and poked his head inside. As far as he knew, Arnold was still out with his friends.
The sound was coming from Arnold's desk where his phone had been left since that morning before school. Grandpa picked up the phone and read the screen: 6 missed calls and 4 texts.
"These kids and their newfangled technology, can't even keep it with 'em," Grandpa said under his breath as he fumbled with the phone. Suddenly, it started ringing again with the name "GERALD" at the top of the screen and Grandpa pushed a button labeled 'Talk'.
"Hello?"
"Grandpa? Where's Arnold?" Gerald said on the other line.
"He's – hey, I'm not your grandpa!"
"Is Arnold home?"
"No, I thought he was out with you guys," Grandpa scratched his head.
"He was, like, almost three hours ago," Gerald said. "He didn't come home yet? Why's his phone there?"
"Guess he forgot it this morning," Grandpa said. "So, wait a minute, you don't know where he is?"
"No, I've been trying to get ahold of him for hours,"
Grandpa furrowed his brow. "That's not like him,"
"I know," Gerald said. "He walked Lila home and she hasn't heard from him since then either,"
"Alright, Gerald. I'm gonna see if I can find him," Grandpa said and they hung up.
Grandpa slipped Arnold's phone into his pocket and went downstairs, poking his head into the kitchen where Grandma was cutting up watermelon. "Pookie, I'm goin' out to find Arnold,"
"Don't be late for supper!" Grandma called in a sing-song voice.
Grandpa climbed into the Packard and started driving around. He didn't remember where Lila lived – perhaps he should've asked Gerald about that. The streets were quiet and dark and Grandpa rolled his windows down to get a better view of everything as he passed.
He'd gone a few blocks when he noticed a dark shadow move in an alleyway. Something didn't feel right and Grandpa's intuition told him to pull over. He couldn't see very well as the streetlight was out but once he got close enough, he heard raspy breathing and saw locks of blonde hair.
"Arnold!" Grandpa said, suddenly gripped with fear as he hurried over to his grandson. He was lying in the alley between two trashcans, his shirt covered in blood and his eye swollen and bruised. "Arnold, what happened?" His voice trembled and he got down on his knees where he could get a better look.
Arnold was gasping for air and his skin was cool and clammy, his eyes staring into nothing. "So… dizzy," Arnold said, his chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths.
Grandpa pulled out Arnold's phone and dialed 9-1-1. "Hello? I think my grandson's been attacked," Grandpa said into the phone when the operator picked up. "He's covered in blood and having trouble breathing… We're in the alley between 43rd and Main Street… Okay, thank you,"
Grandpa hung up the phone and tears brimmed in his eyes as he watched Arnold struggle to breathe. With each gasp, the blood stain on Arnold's shirt and the puddle right under him widened.
What was only a few minutes seemed like an hour before the ambulance arrived. The paramedics jumped out with a stretcher in tow, rushing over to Arnold's side. Grandpa quickly scrambled to get out of the way, holding a hand to his mouth as he watched the paramedics swarm around Arnold.
"He's in shock, we gotta get him to the hospital," One of them said.
Another listened to his breathing, "Right lung's collapsed," She said and assisted with carefully lifting Arnold onto the stretcher. As they carried Arnold back to the ambulance, another paramedic addressed Grandpa.
"Are you family? You can ride along," He said and Grandpa quickly followed after them. Inside the ambulance, they hooked Arnold up to a vitals monitor and put an oxygen mask over his mouth while one of the paramedics kept pressure on his wound to try and slow the bleeding. Arnold's eyelids were slowly falling until he was no longer conscious and Grandpa picked up Arnold's hand, holding it firmly as they made their way to the hospital.
"Pressure's dropping," The paramedic holding Arnold's wound said, looking at the monitor. "O2 stats are falling, too,"
Grandpa watched in horror as the paramedics continued to work on Arnold to slow his decline. He was speechless and tears slid down his face as he watched them fight to get Arnold's vitals back up.
Suddenly, a long, steady beep rang out from the monitor and Grandpa looked up to see an ominous flat line stretched across the screen.
. . . . . . . .
Helga's hand groped around her end table trying to find her phone. It was almost 2 am and her phone ringing had stirred her from sleep. She looked at the screen before she answered.
"Phoebe, it's 2 in the freaking morning," She said, her eyes still closed but they shot open when she realized Phoebe was crying. "Hey, hey… what's going on?"
Phoebe took a deep breath but her voice still shook. "Come outside,"
"What, why?" Helga said, sitting up in bed.
"Please," Phoebe said, her voice turning to a soft whimper. "Just do it,"
Helga jumped out of bed, clad in sweats and a tank top, her hair wild and all over the place. She thundered down the steps and opened the front door to see Phoebe sitting on the steps of her stoop and Gerald leaning against the cement "railing". Gerald's car was parked in front of her house but the lights were still on and the engine was running.
Helga took one look at Phoebe's shoulders shaking and the tear stains on Gerald's face and a panic immediately set in. "What happened?" She asked, any attempt at putting up some sort of front in front of Gerald having gone completely out the window.
"Something... terrible has happened," Phoebe said, standing up and wiping her eyes beneath her glasses. "Arnold's been hurt,"
"What?" Helga asked, her eyes wide with shock. "Is he okay?"
Phoebe looked up at her best friend, her lips trembling and could only shake her head. Helga looked at Gerald who was just looking at the pavement in front of him, his eyes fixed and his face broken.
"What happened?" Helga asked, fighting harder than she'd ever fought before to keep her voice even. She probably sounded like a robot.
"He was attacked," Gerald said bluntly, taking a deep breath and wiping at his eye with the knuckle of his thumb.
"Well, what are we standing here for?" Helga exclaimed. "We should be going to the hospital!"
At this, Phoebe's eyes watered again and she shook her head, then pulled Helga into a hug. "H-he's gone," Her voice came out as a whisper and all of a sudden, Helga felt like she was going to turn to liquid and slip away right there. Her knees weakened and her face blanched. She pulled away to look Phoebe in the eyes as her own started to fill with tears. She blinked them away furiously.
"Don't screw with me, Phoebe," She said in a harsh, low tone, her voice breaking. Looking Phoebe in the eyes, she knew she was telling the truth.
. . . . . . . .
The days leading up to Arnold's funeral felt like a blur. The whole school was in mourning and the school counselors had invited any students seeking counsel to visit with them. Helga missed the first couple days after it happened, locked in her bedroom and doing nothing but crying into her pillow. She didn't have words. She couldn't write, couldn't eat, and her sleep was restless and broken, falling asleep in segments interrupted by relentless grief.
. . . . . . . .
Arnold's funeral was set for Sunday in the afternoon. They'd arranged two viewings earlier in the day, separated by an hour, so that as many people as wanted to come would have the opportunity to do so. The second viewing was to be followed by the funeral.
That morning, dozens upon dozens of people flocked to the funeral home. Arnold had touched so many lives in his own short life and just about the entire neighborhood had shown up to mourn and pay their respects.
The room was large with plenty of space for everyone who'd come. There were chairs and couches all around and there were a multitude of bouquets and stands with elaborate flower arrangements all around the room. Grandma and Grandpa, along with the boarders, had put together picture collages and a couple of them were stationed toward the back of the room. A video picture collage played on a TV screen that hung from the wall and a sad compilation of songs about loss accompanied it.
Up at the front of the room was the casket. It was half-open with a large bouquet sitting on the bottom half. People were continually cycling up to say their good-byes to Arnold.
Lila, Gerald, Phoebe and Rhonda stood together towards the back of the room having casual conversation, exchanging stories and reveling in memories of their shared childhoods.
"I wonder where Helga is," Phoebe wondered aloud. "She said she was coming," She pulled out a tissue she'd been using that day to wipe away her remaining tears. Everyone was going through cycles of being calm and crying.
"I'm glad she isn't here," Rhonda muttered, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, she didn't even like Arnold," Gerald grumbled, his brow furrowed.
Phoebe kept her mouth shut, honoring her best friend's secret despite their incorrect interpretations of her.
Meanwhile, Helga was in the bathroom at the funeral home, hiding in a stall and hunched over, crying into her lap. Her shoulders shaking and her voice inaudible as her bright blonde hair fell down around her. She didn't move from that spot until she heard the sound of people outside and the gradual fading away of their voices. She sat up, wiping her face and smoothing her hair, then cautiously exited the stall and poked her head out into the hallway. There were a couple people up by the front doors but just about everyone had cleared out until the second viewing. It was close to noon so they were probably going to get lunch.
Helga breathed in deep and swallowed the lump in her throat as she slowly walked down the hallway and into the room where Arnold's casket lay. The emptiness of the room coupled with the soft song playing from the speakers near the TV haunted her.
Spend all your time waiting,
for that second chance,
for a break that would make it okay.
Helga caught a glimpse of one of the picture collages set up near a couch and she had to tear her eyes away. That was enough to make her feel like a wave was crashing down on her.
There's always some reason
to feel not good enough,
and it's hard at the end of the day.
Helga breathed in deeply, exhaling from her mouth, and slowly began to walk around the room, never letting her gaze turn fully toward the casket in the front of the room. She studied the flowers and the messages attached to them. "Beloved Friend", "Cherished Grandson"…
I need some distraction,
Oh, beautiful release,
Memories seep from my veins.
Let me be empty,
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight.
Helga willed herself to look at some of the pictures of Arnold that were arranged around the room. Most were current but there were quite a few from their childhood years. She approached one stand that had a lot of pictures from when they were kids and her heart sank into her stomach when she caught sight of one in particular.
A three year old Arnold stood in the foyer of the boarding house, the front door behind him, wearing a yellow raincoat and boots. There was an umbrella leaning against the doorframe behind him and Arnold was holding a sign that one of his grandparents had cleared written for him, a huge smile on his face.
"My 1st day of Preschool!
My name is Arnold and when I grow up I want to be a DOCTOR!"
In the arms of the angel,
fly away from here,
from this dark, cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear.
You are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel,
may you find some comfort here.
Tears flooded Helga's eyes and her chest hurt from the pressure of trying to keep herself contained. She looked over at the casket, closed her eyes and took a breath before slowly approaching.
It was strange how she knew it was him, and it sort of looked like him, but at the same time didn't quite look like him. His skin was pale and looked fake, his eyes were closed, and someone had combed down his normally tousled blonde hair. His eye was still swollen from where he'd been hit but he was covered in make-up in an attempt to hide the discoloration. His hands were folded on top of one another and he was dressed in a nice black suit.
Helga felt a hard lump sink back down into her stomach and she didn't know whether she wanted to burst into hysterics or throw up. She crept towards the casket until she was right next to it, her tears flooding her eyes and dripping down her face and neck.
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
theres vultures and thieves at your back.
Suddenly overcome, Helga dragged in a haggard breath and in its release came an onslaught of tears. Her shoulders heaved and she crossed her arms on the edge of the casket, burying her face in them.
And the storm keeps on twisting,
you keep on building the lies,
that you make up for all that you lack.
"I-I'm so sorry, Arnold," Helga sobbed into her arms. "I'm so sorry,"
It don't make no difference,
escaping one last time.
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,
oh, this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees.
"I should have never taken it back," Helga said softly, lifting her head and looking down at her beloved, his face blank yet peaceful.
In the arms of the angel,
fly away from here.
"I-I love you…" Helga's voice came out as barely a whisper. "I've always loved you…"
From this dark cold hotel room,
and the endlessness that you fear.
"I never meant any of those mean or hurtful things I said," Helga said, her eyes blurring with tears. "Not one of them. Y-you're…" Her voice fell to a whisper again. "You're the most amazing person I've ever known…"
You are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie.
"I love you," Helga repeated again, her breathing punctuated by sobs and her voice rising in pitch until no sound came out. "I love you…"
You're in the arms of the angel,
may you find some comfort here.
Phoebe and Gerald hadn't left for lunch yet and were walking down the hall when they heard someone crying. Phoebe gestured for Gerald to keep quiet and they peered around the wall into the viewing room to see Helga at Arnold's casket. Her knees were weak and her legs shook with her weight; if she hadn't been leaning against the side of the casket, she looked like she could have fallen. Her shoulders heaved and shook and her cry was hard and painful.
Phoebe took a deep breath and turned around to face Gerald who was clearly surprised at the intensity of Helga's emotions. Phoebe jerked her head toward the door, suggesting they should go.
You're in the arms of the angel…
Helga reached a hand out and gingerly laid it atop Arnold's cold hand, eliciting even more sobbing.
…may you find some comfort here.
. . . . . . . .
Helga stuck around for the second viewing and the funeral but generally kept to herself, back and away from the crowd. She spent the rest of the day in her bedroom listening to songs about loss and falling in and out of tormented sleep.
By nightfall she was exhausted and felt hollow, as if she could fall inside herself and spiral down into a black abyss forever. The sky was clear and she lay in her bed, cuddling her tear-soaked pillow and looking out at the moon and stars.
"I love him," She murmured to herself. "I wish I could take it all back. All the lies and the masks and the hateful things I've said," She blinked away a single tear that slid down her face. "I wish he knew how much I loved him… If only I had a chance…" Her voice began to break and she buried her face in her pillow again, hoping for some restful sleep.
. . . . . . . .
Helga awoke the next morning feeling like her heart had been replaced by stone – she felt heavy, weighed down, and cold. She didn't have the energy to cry or to eat or think or do much of anything really, but she forced herself to get up and get ready for school. She'd already missed too much time and even if she was a listless log in each of her classes, at least she'd be there to take her assignments home and think about doing them. Besides, she'd survived Thursday and Friday at school last week.
She crawled out of bed and opened her laptop, turning on the same playlist she'd been playing the night before, then went into her closet to find something to wear. Unimpressed with the selection, she went searching through her dresser for options instead.
I wake up in the morning and I wonder,
Why everything's the same as it was.
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does…
She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt she'd gotten a couple years ago for donating blood. Upon realizing the dark irony in that shirt choice, she tossed it aside and pulled out a plain, pink tee.
Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
Helga's phone began to buzz from the end table by her bed and she sighed, carrying her clothes to the bed to answer the phone then get dressed.
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said goodbye.
"Hello?" Helga answered.
"Helga!" Phoebe's voice was hyped up and she sounded… relieved? "I'm so glad you answered,"
"Umm… yeah…" Helga said, sitting down on her bed and picking up the pink tee, setting it in her lap. "What is it?"
"My car broke down! I was running to the library to return a book in the overnight bin because it was due yesterday and somehow I forgot about it, probably because it was a fascinating, in-depth discussion of mitochondrial DNA inheritance…" Phoebe spoke quickly and Helga was having a hard time keeping up. "…but then I was on my way to school and I was early so I stopped at the donut shop to get something for myself and Gerald and I came out and now the car won't start! I don't know what's wrong!" She finished, breathless. "My father is going to be so upset. It's technically his car and the only one we have right now,"
Helga shook her head, squinting her eyes. "Wait, wait, Phoebe you just got that car fixed a few weeks ago. What the heck are you doing to that thing?"
Phoebe paused. "What are you talking about, Helga? I've never had anything like this happen before… but regardless, can you pick me up? Please, I can't be late for school!"
Helga shrugged. "Yeah, sure, whatever… I'll come get you…"
"Oh, thank you! Thank you!"
Helga ended the call and finished getting herself dressed and ready for school. Once she was as presentable as she was going to get, she grabbed her house keys and the key to Big Bob's car, and plucked her phone up from where she'd left it lying on her bed.
School started at 7:45 am and Helga pushed a button on her phone to wake it up so she could check the time before she left. What she noticed, however, was that the date on her phone read March 2nd, rather than March 30th as it should have been.
[A/N: The songs in this chapter were "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan and the last few parts of "The End of the World" by Skeeter Davis.
Holy cow this chapter is insanely long. Let me know if you guys dig this idea and want me to continue it and what not. Also, if I made you cry, don't feel bad because I almost started crying myself and I wrote the dang thing!
I hope to hear from you guys soon. Some feedback would be awesome and much appreciated! I WANNA KNOW THE INNER WORKINGS OF YO MINDS...
Okay, sleep time. Goodnight ^_^]