Concrete Angel
A Song Fic
Song By: Martina McBride
Interpretation By: Briana LFBH
Hey, one and all. Yes, yet another story. (Anyone notice that I've never finished a chapter story yet?) I LOVE this song, and it is so sad. The music video made me cry so hard. Well, I won't bore you with author notes. Go ahead and read.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters stated in this story (Except Trisha and any others like that) or the song in which it is based upon.
"Mom? Miriam? Where'd you put my lunchbox?"
Thirteen-year-old Helga Pataki walked into her kitchen and started looking through the bottom cabinets. She stood up when she saw her mother walk in and stomped over to her. "Miriam, I had my lunch sitting on the table by the door. Where did you put it?"
Miriam aimlessly walked around the kitchen like she was lost before she said, "You know, Helga, I honestly don't know where I put it. I remember seeing it on the table, and I picked it up-Oh, here we go!" She opened the dishwasher and pulled out a lunchbox with wrestling stickers and the name 'Helga' on the front.
Helga walked over and snatched it from her mother's hands. She didn't seem to notice, because after Helga had done so, she walked over to the counter, sat in the stool, and slumped over it. She had fallen asleep.
Again, thought Helga. She angrily opened up her box to make sure that the lunch she had packed was still there, afraid that Miriam may have decided to make a 'lunch' for her and dumped out the contents like she had just a few nights ago. She checked to make sure that her ham sandwich, apple, orange soda, and Ziploc bag with a few Doritos was inside. Satisfied, she closed it and walked outside to find yet another happy thing to start her day off.
The bus that usually picked her up had started up again and left the corner. She ran as fast as she could to catch up, but it was too late. She slumped over and moaned. "Great. Another reason why my parents need to buy me an alarm clock." She hung her head back and looked up at the cloudy sky. It had been like that every morning this fall. Helga thought that it did that just to mock her, copying her mood every day. She thought about this and forced back tears that threatened to fall. They could mock the sky: rain.
She walks to school with the lunch she packed.
Nobody knows what she's holding back.
She looked down at the bottom of her pink skirt and picked off a stain from last week's microwave spaghetti. She growled, "Criminy! Miriam, can't you at least remember to do your own daughter's laundry? Agh."
The sky and the stain resembled what had become of the youngest Pataki's life: dark, ignored, hidden, and hurtful. Olga had become even more of an attention-hog when she became valedvictorian of the senior class and got a job as a highly qualified organizer for about all of the Pacific state's homeless shelters and orphanages while performing in a play/musical each year. Her social life took a downfall when the popular people actually started to become even more egotistical and the student body became more diverse. She took a deep sigh as she turned the corner and headed for the middle school.
But of course, her normal wear kept her totally unnoticed by anyone she didn't want to be noticed by.
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday.
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
Oh, oh.
It was first period English, and as fate would have it, their assignment for the beginning of the week was to write a narrative story on whatever topic they wanted. Whatever Helga had when she was younger, she didn't, for some unknown reason, show it as often anymore, not even as 'Anonymous'. She told herself that it was because she didn't feel like it. Besides, if she wrote something down, the teachers might think she needed mental help. She didn't want to risk trying, though.
Like it or not, some of the teachers did notice. A teacher named Mr. Simmons had spoken truly and highly about this young girl, but they didn't see it. They could all tell, though, that there was something about this girl that was really wonderful…but they couldn't help but wonder if there was something else, something that she wanted to hide. But being middle school teachers, they had about a hundred and fifty other students to attend to.
Helga herself knew that what went on around her was affecting her inside. Ever since she was a young child she never spoke out to anyone, and if she did, it rarely happened again. She tried ignoring it, and sometimes it worked, but she sometimes felt like she wanted to explode from the pressure she and other things inflicted on her.
She still sometimes acted like the big boss, even four years after her well renowned nine-year-old bully spree. Sometimes she even took those who did befriend her for granted. Thus, she felt as though it were all her fault: for not being perfect, for not being good enough for others, for anything.
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask.
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.
Bearing the burden of a secret storm.
Sometimes she wishes she were never born.
When lunch came, she saw Phoebe and a few of her new 'friends' walk over to another table where she saw them laugh at a joke and gossip with other girls. She sighed and stirred her mushy gray pudding that passed as turkey and rice with gravy. Another strike of lightening to her deck. She steered it back on course by ignoring them. It's what she'd always done.
She stared of into a corner that became her new lunch buddy and drifted of into another place. It was a place she visited often. There she imagined that she had a loving and caring mother and father, a group of trustworthy friends, and she could just be herself. That place always made her feel better, because it gave her something she thought she could never get. There were people there that showed what she had always wanted: someone to love her.
Through the wind
And the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world
Where she can't rise above.
But her dreams
Give her wings
And she flies to a place
Where she's loved.
Concrete Angel.
She stood up and carried her full tray over to the trashcans. As she walked in that direction, she felt a lone tear run down her cheek. She lifted a hand to wipe it off, and in doing so, she collided with a shorter yet wider something. Next thing either of them knew, they were both on the ground with gravy stains on their shirts.
Helga looked at her pink and white shirt and back up at whom she had rammed into. Arnold was in her sight picking bits of meat off his shoes. Yes, Arnold was one of those few who won Helga's love (if you included her parents and Phoebe), and he never seemed to waver, even with all of her harsh statements.
She jumped up and flung the tray off her lap. "Watch where the crap you're going, Football-Head! God, did your eyes disappear underneath all that hair this morning or something?"
Arnold lifted the tray and stood slowly. He lifted his jeans to reveal a cut above his ankle where a plastic knife had evidently fallen and left him hurt. Now Helga breathed in, thinking that she should apologize, but instead thought not to, for her own reputation's sake.
"Aw, man," muttered Arnold as he wiped off some blood. He sighed and stood straight. Looking at Helga he said to her, "Helga, can you just shut up for today, okay? Look, I'm just not in the mood today. Are you at least gonna say sorry for once?"
A small group had gathered around the two. All Helga could muster to do was make small movements with her lips. Arnold had been the only one to ever apologize to her for anything, even when it was her fault, and she rarely ever did. Seeing this, Arnold sighed. "Whatever." He got up and Gerald accompanied him to bathroom.
Phoebe, Rhonda, and Trisha walked over to Helga and gave her a cold look. Rhonda was the first to say, "You walked into him on purpose, and then you go all over him. It's all your fault that you're covered in food now, Helga. One of these days someone's gonna have to teach you a lesson."
She walked away, quickly followed by Phoebe, who glanced at Helga and then looked back at her other, her 'true' friends.
Trisha walked over to Helga and pushed her hard on the shoulder. The force pushed Helga to the floor, where the other kids laughed. She could hear a few words that any counselor would describe as 'verbal abuse'. She stayed on the floor until the bell rang.
At home, she sat and moped about her day. It had really become a hobby for her to think of everything that went wrong. Out of those she tried to think of the things that were her fault. She had pushed others to take out the anger that was placed on her so often.
She leaned over and rested on her pillow. She didn't bother to go down and eat. All that awaited her downstairs was a three-course meal, consisting of arguments and yelling, bad frozen dinners on plastic plates, and snoring. Most of it would be about a teacher that called and complained about her failing grade in History. Her parents would only accept perfection from her, and when it wasn't so, (which was pretty much always) her father busted her chops about it, even though they never took part in any parent-teacher conferences or helped her with her homework. Heck, they didn't even listen to her…just like everyone else in the world.
Again, a tear crept over her eyelid and seeped down. Soon a downfall erupted from her eyes loud enough to wake the world. Helga decided that she was fed up with it, the tears, the solitary comfort, the hiding, the abuse she took from herself and others. It just wasn't worth the cut.
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear but they turn out the light.
Helga was weaker than everyone else thought she was, and she knew it. She just wanted one thing in life, and everyday it became harder and harder for her to reach. All her fault, all her fault…. She knew it wouldn't take much to turn it around at school, but that reflected her home life, and she had to pretend like she didn't care at home. It was all that kept her surviving.
Chance wasn't cruel to her, but that's where her life rested. She was cruel to herself, and half the time it was her doing.
"All my life," she whispered, "I've been trying to do better. I guess I just ran out of energy to, though. I know that, no matter how hard I try, that Olga will always be shining above me. No matter how much effort I put into school, it'll never be enough to get back when I'm so far behind. "There, there…" Her tears kept going. She never knew when she stopped. She listened to herself choke on water until she fell asleep.
Unfortunately, her body somehow knew that she had lost the will to live when she thought, thought that all she would have and cause was pain.
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate.
When morning comes it'll be to late.
Through the wind
And the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world
Where she can't rise above.
When she fell asleep, she dreamt of that wonderful place that she had hoped she'd have someday. She was still up to the idea, but now what? She dreamt of her parents, caring and not consistently yelling at her to do better, to be better. She dreamt of Phoebe and Trisha, who had, at least at some point, been her friends. She dreamt of Arnold, who she had always wanted to have, ever since she could remember, but whom was she kidding? He had a great life, and she was what she considered dirt. She knew she could have that, but she didn't want to risk it.
But her dreams
Give her wings
And she flies to a place
Where she's loved.
Concrete Angel!
The next day, Miriam walked up the stairs, practically screaming Helga's name over and over. "Helga! Are. You. Up. Yet? It's time for you to go to school! Look, I didn't move your lunch this time!"
Miriam opened the door and saw Helga asleep without any covers on and dressed. Maybe she had woken up and fallen asleep again.
Stomping could be heard from outside the room. Miriam turned to see her husband standing there. "Wake the girl up, Miriam! Jeez, Olga was always up and awake. Grades will be falling all over the place!" He walked over to the bed and slapped Helga on the back. "WAKE UP!"
"B!"
When she did not stir, Bob struck her again. She didn't even move. Bob suspected something and leaned over her chest.
Nothing.
"Miriam, call 9-1-1…"
~~~
The doctors said her heart just gave out. There was no sign of disease or unnatural cause of death. Some experts suspected teen depression caused it. Others, from records of her parents and school life, recommended abuse of a few forms. Of course, the answer would never truly be known except one person: Helga Geraldine Pataki.
Family members were undoubtedly present, and some students, such as Phoebe, Arnold, and anyone who was willing to follow their pull.
They had decided to make it an open casket ceremony, so people could pay their due respects up front. They all had a lot to pay. Bob had paid fully for a tall monument of a woman with folded hands and glancing up slightly to the sky.
Once the ceremony was over and the casket was placed into the grave, all those present were able to see a name they probably never thought of as often as they would, but she had been affected so greatly by them. They had asked Helga's best friend, Phoebe, who with a heavy heart agreed, to decide what should be written on the gravestone. What she chose fit perfectly: 'As hard as stone to last so long. Inside, she was a wonderful person.'
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind
And the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world
Where she can't rise above
But her dreams
Give her wings
And she flies to a place
From high above them, Helga watched. She didn't know what happened. Now, in two places, she was given what she had always wanted, and, what she now knew, deserved.
Where she's loved
Concrete Angel!
Wow. I cried when I wrote this. Just to let everyone know, I didn't want to copy of off the music video or have her kill herself, so I thought that that suited just fine. I really hope you guys like it! Review, please! And if you can, watch the music video, because it is so sad, but the ending is really kind of sweet. It makes you cry so hard! Until next time, see ya!
Briana LFBH~~~