The Club

by Polkahotness

I never thought life without Olga would cause so many problems for me. After all, out of everybody I knew, I was probably the only one with just cause enough to want her gone. But now that she was, everything was up in the air, including my relationship with Arnold. Could a view from Mighty Pete shed light on what I'd lost? Or help me lose Arnold forever? *rated M for mature themes

1. Prologue

Silence filled the room; a muffled cough breaking the ice enough to make me realize everyone's eyes from the circle were on me.

Me.

"Uh..." I started shakily as the group leader pushed me on.

"Just start with your name, okay?" She said kindly- it was a genuine kindness, but still one that made me sick to my stomach.

It reminded me of her.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and said with as much false confidence as I could muster from the front of the circle at the wooden podium I'd been staring at moments earlier, "My name is Helga-Helga G. Pataki. I uh... I live here, obviously," I said with a shake of my head while looking down at my hands and sighing. "And I'm here because... because I lost my sister last month and I think it's bumming me out. A little."

I shook my head again as if I could erase all the memories inside my head that were flurrying around at the mention of what had happened.

"Well Helga, we're happy you are here with us," the group leader cooed while putting an ice-cold hand on my shoulder blade; my body immediately jumping at it's temperature. "It's never easy to lose a loved one."

"You got THAT right," I mumbled to myself more than anyone else and reached up to wipe my hand over my damp cheeks.

Criminy, what a wuss... I thought to myself as I rubbed the wetness between my forefinger and thumb while my hand sat in my lap. All over Olga.

After everything she'd done to our family, after everything she had PUT us through... and I was CRYING. For HER.

I frowned and clenched my jaw as my hands curled into fists at my side. "You know what? I THOUGHT I needed this, but I have NOTHING to share, okay? Nothing. She's dead and that's that, so I guess-" I turned to leave the circle of widowed spouses, orphaned children and heartbroken friends who had all lost others in a similar fashion as I'd lost Olga.

Standing outside the circle, I spun around to face them again and said, "Thanks...but no thanks, alright? Maybe... maybe I'll see you all around, or something."

And with that, I left the third group of sad sacks I'd been to that week and slowly began to trudge home.

As if they could help me, anyway.

...TO BE CONTINUED...