A/N: Hi guys! So this fic really came out of the blue for me. I've been wanting to do something with the phrase "in the pink" for a while now, but the rest of this really just sprang up while reading other fics on this site. Happy fics no less. I never expected I'd write a fic taking on this dark subject, as it has been done again and again, and most often poorly. Hah! I'm sure mine will be added to the parade of such crappy fics. That being said, I'd love it if you guys could approach this with an open mind, because it's not my usual writing style. It doesn't really have a plot. It's more of "a day in the life of", a matter of fact account of events. I'm purposely trying to keep the reader distant from the characters here, so if you have trouble connecting with Helga, that could be a good thing. I just hope I've managed to convey the sense of numbness I want the readers to feel while still making it interesting enough to stick with. I think it's a little longish, and that I could have done better, so I'd love any advice you guys can give me. Otherwise, please just let me know how well you think I did and what you thought of the story. I always love feedback!
In the pink - In good health, as in "We're glad to hear Bob's in the pink again." In the 1500s pink meant "the embodiment of perfection," but the current idiom dates only from about 1900. - The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms, by Christine Kramer
In The Pink
It was a normal day at Hillwood High School. A day like any other. The warning bell rang at 7:25. Students shuffled books around in their lockers, trying to find what they needed so that they could get to class. They made their way to their homerooms and the bell rang again at 7:30. At 7:35, Helga G. Pataki sauntered through the double doors at the front of the school. She was dressed as she always was - in her favorite pink three-quarters length sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that was just a little too long for her. The pant cuffs were frayed from scraping on the ground. Her feet were covered by a pair of converse shoes. They were the same pink as her shirt; the same pink as the bow on her wrist. The same pink as her lips, which blandly frowned at the empty hallway before her.
Helga was in no rush, not that she ever was. She went to her locker to put her books away and take out what she needed for class. Two text books and a pencil case. Her spiral notebook.
At 7:45 she walked into first period English without a word. The teacher handed her a pink slip for detention, which she would be serving after school. Except that Helga wouldn't be there, because really, what was the point? She sat down in the empty seat behind Stinky and pulled out her notebook, carefully flipping to a page which she had opened to many times before. She nibbled on the end of her pencil before scratching down a few words, then paused to think some more. At 8:07 the teacher noticed Helga's distraction, subtracted 20 points from Griffyndor, and made her turn to a new page for taking notes. For the rest of that class and the next, Helga drifted between note taking and doodling little football shapes and hearts in the margins.
The first time she spoke that day was to Phoebe, at 9:25 on the way to their third period Math together. Not that Phoebe, or anyone else knew that.
"Hey, Pheebs?" She asked.
"Yes Helga?"
"I've got a favor I need to ask of you."
Phoebe smiled politely up at her friend. "Certainly Helga. What can I do for you?"
Helga shifted the weight of her backpack from her left shoulder to her right. "Big Bob's replacing some rotting floorboards in the attic, and the area above my closet and part of my room is gonna get chopped up. I was wondering if you could hold onto my... book collection for a while. You know, so they don't get ruined or anything?"
Phoebe nodded in understanding. "Of course Helga, I'd be happy to."
Without looking at her friend, Helga stated "I'll drop them off after school today."
Once again, the petite Asian nodded. "I foresee no conflict with my schedule."
As they approached the door to their classroom, Helga stopped and smiled. "Thanks Pheebs," she said. "You're a real pal."
Third period passed with the same invisible alacrity as first and second had, and was immediately followed by gym class. Helga headed straight for the locker room, where she found her usual cubby and began changing into her gym clothes. First the shirt came off, and was replaced by her school's blue and grey gym shirt. Then off went the pants, and bright blue gym shorts replaced them. She pulled off her converse and switched into more rugged sneakers, the sort that would not wear through from running laps five days a week. Finally she looked at the pink ribbon tied around her wrist. She hesitated to remove it only briefly before untying the knot with one swift tug, and neatly folding it to place in her locker with the rest of her clothes.
"Hurry up Helga," said Rhonda as she passed by Helga's locker on the way to the door outside, "I won't be held into lunch period again because you were too slow to get dressed."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming Princess," Helga sniped.
At lunch, Helga stood in line for precisely three minutes before arriving at the food. She loaded her tray with a bottle of juice, an apple, a slice of pizza, and two of those incredibly cheap but regardless delicious snack cakes before paying the lady at the register. She dropped a ten on the counter and told the lunch lady to keep the change. The boy behind her in line stared oddly at her back as she went to find a seat, but he did not know her and told himself it was nothing, so he moved forward to pay for his own lunch.
Helga scanned the cafeteria with her eyes before settling on a table in the far corner, next to the stage. Phoebe sat there with Gerald and Arnold, laughing at one of their jokes. She immediately ruled sitting at that table out, and instead opted for the empty seat next to Brainy. The boy fainted at her self-elected proximity, and was taken to the nurse's office after an alarmed cry from Lila drew the lunch staff's attention. Helga sighed in resignation, feeling that it was perhaps ironic or fitting that she end up eating alone today. The next thirty-five minutes passed in long, drawn out glances at the table in the corner, and distant heavy sighs.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur for Helga. She saw no one of any importance, spoke only when she was called on in class, and even then slept through most of her lessons. At the end of the day she loaded all of her books into her locker, and slammed the door shut with a little more force than was necessary. She pulled the little pink detention slip that she had gotten in first period out of her pocket. It was just a stupid, useless piece of paper. It shouldn't have held her attention as long as it did. But Helga stared at it for nearly five minutes before the sound of a slamming locker alerted her to the emptiness of the hallway. With a scoff, she crumbled the thin piece of paper into a tiny ball, and dropped on the floor. Leaving it in front of her locker for the janitors, Helga G. Pataki swept out of the building.
Helga did not say hello to Bob or Miriam when she got home. She went straight to her bedroom, put down her book-bag, picked up the cardboard box that held her pink books, and left the house.
Helga rang the doorbell at Phoebe's house. She was greeted by Phoebe's mother.
"Hello Helga, how can I help you?"
Helga hefted the box in her hands for a better grip. "Phoebe said she could look after these for me while Bob is doing some renovations. Can I come in?"
"Of course dear!" Mrs. Heyerdahl replied, appalled at her own rudeness. "Phoebe!" She yelled up the stairs as she opened the door more broadly and ushered Helga inside, "Helga's here to see you!"
"Coming Mom!" Came a voice from upstairs. Within a minute Phoebe was running down them.
"Hey Helga!" She smiled. "Is that all of them?"
"Yup," Helga nodded, "all twenty one of them."
"Gosh Helga, it's astonishing that you manage to write so much. Whenever I try to write, I hardly get passed two pages before I get stuck."
Helga shrugged, "It's a gift, I guess."
Phoebe giggled and nodded, and then the two of them carted the heavy box upstairs to Phoebe's room.
When Helga returned home, Miriam was still passed out on the counter, and Big Bob had fallen asleep with one of his football games on. With a sigh, Helga grabbed the remote from the end table by her father and turned the TV off.
Before she left the room, she turned off the lights. "'Night Dad." She whispered.
After, Helga entered the kitchen and grabbed a microwave dinner from the fridge. She sat down with it next to her mother, and ate her last meal in silence.
Upstairs, alone in her bedroom, Helga opened her desk drawer and pulled out an envelope that contained a pre-written message. Her eyes lingered on her right wrist, until finally she overcame her reverie and gently untied the pink bow. Her last task done, she picked up the bow and the envelope, and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door, placed her belongings on the toilet, and opened the medicine cabinet. Inside she found the razor she had been looking for.
Helga ran the bath water and stripped out of her clothing. Once she was naked, she stood in front of the mirror, and carefully tied her pink bow back into her hair. Not in pigtails, as she had worn when she was younger. In a plain, simple little bow around a tiny section of her mane - like a half pony tail with less hair.
Looking at her reflection, Helga's eyes began to water. But she could do this. She had to. True, it meant giving up her hopes and dreams. It meant realizing that most of her endeavors had been fruitless, and would never, ever bear fruit. But how else was she to let go? She had tried, she honestly had. Yet her heart had been so tied in knots that it would not detangle. Day by day, she saw how she made the lives of those she cared about miserable. Her parents would not divorce because she was around. She always made Phoebe feel guilty for spending so much time with her boyfriend, and it was tearing their friendship apart. Why couldn't she just be happy for her? And Arnold, oh Arnold. She could not count the sins she had committed upon that angel. If he did not bear lasting scars from the way she tortured him through-out elementary, it would truly be a miracle. And her love for him had caused pain for countless others: Brainy, Lila, the list went on and on. To everyone she knew, Helga G. Pataki was a bitch and a nuisance.
She would do this.
For once in her life - Helga swore - she would do something right.
This one good thing.
And in the morning, when her parents found her body lying in that crimson tub, perhaps the world would finally see. Helga G. Pataki - the girl in pink - had never been in the pink at all.
A/N: So that's it. Really quickly, I just want to apologize for the Harry Potter joke. I know it makes no sense in this universe and totally distracts from the mood, but I put it in there when I first started writing and couldn't bring myself to take it out.