A/N: Howdy ya'll! So, I grew up watching Hey Arnold! and quickly fell in love with the show. So, now I want to write a fanfiction in honor of the show that made my childhood.

I do not own anything. It is all from the mind of Craig Bartlett.

Helga Geraldine Pataki. Could my parents have picked a worse name? I spent most of my life being a bully, which probably worked in my favor considering the torment I would have received for having such an unattractive name. Rhonda had once told me that it would make sense I had a name like 'Helga'... it was an ugly girl's name. So, naturally I punched her in the stomach. I was not one to deal with people's shit.

Some people often wondered if I was like this (essentially a bitch) because of my parents. My mother was an alcoholic and my father was a workaholic. I was lucky if I ever came home to someone in the house after Olga went to attend Wellington University in New Zealand. My parents' gave her all of the attention and love they could spare and I was their "mistake". So, maybe they were the reason I turned out to be a bitch, but I really think that each person chooses who they are. I am who I chose to be and it made me who I am.

"Momma," my little girl said as she stumbled into the room. At two years old she still hadn't mastered walking and the fact that she was a chubby little thing probably didn't help all that much.

"Yes, Emma," I said. She had a way of softening me when I was in the worst moves and thinking of my past always put me in a minor depression.

"Can I has mo?" she asked in her cute broken language. I was mixing cookie batter and Emma wanted another mixing beater, so I handed her one.

"Here you go baby. Now, when you're done go get your shoes on," I said pushing her along a little, "Gram and Gramps will be here to get you soon."

"No work today," she said stomping her feet.

"Sorry babygirl, you know momma has to go to work to put the bad guys away," I smiled as I pulled her blonde hair up and put the pink bow I was known for into her hair.

"Daddy today?" she asked. Every time she asked questions about her father, my heart sunk. How could I tell her that her father raped me? Her father was in jail. I sighed heavily and thought of that awful day...

It was the first party I'd been invited to in college, I wasn't exactly popular, but my sister had talked some kids into allowing me to attend a party. Of course, at the time I didn't know this. I brushed my blonde hair out and curled it, plucked my eyebrow, and put a bit of make-up on before throwing on a pink dress that accentuated the figure I preferred to keep hidden. I guess I should point out that Olga helped me get ready in the small apartment I shared with Phoebe, my best friend since grade school.

Originally I didn't think I would enjoy an NYU party, but I had to admit for a while there I was having fun. People kept handing me drinks and, to be honest, I didn't even know I was getting drunk. I had sworn off alcohol growing up seeing my mother drink herself into a stupor every night and pass out on the couch. So I had my first and last drink of alcohol on that day.

"Hey there! Helga is it?" a melodic voice whispered in my ear. I'd heard the voice before and when I turned I noticed the oaf that stood only inches from me. His eyes were glazed over, either from alcohol or marijuana.

"Wolfgang," I stated simply. I wanted nothing to do with him. He was nothing but an asshole in grade school and by the looks of it not much had changed.

"I knew you'd remember me. I'm a hard guy to forget, huh?" the alcohol was potent on his breath and he took a step closer to me, putting his hands on the wall behind me, trapping me in front of him. I tried to move past him and he moved closer to me, pinning me to the wall with his body. I felt truly in danger at this point.

"Get the fuck out of my way," I demanded, putting all of my force into a push, but he stood rooted where he was. I was in real trouble. The night only got worse from then on. Wolfgang kept handing me drinks and I stupidly kept drinking them.

As the night wore on, I'm told I disappeared with Wolfgang. The last thing I remember is screaming no before being hit with a fist.

I woke up in the hospital with Olga and Phoebe beside my bed. "Oh my dearest little sis, I'm so sorry," she cried. It took me a while to calm her down, but she wouldn't tell me what happened, but I knew it was bad when I saw tears in Phoebe's eyes.

"We'll find you a daddy some day," I whispered as she left the room to find her shoes.