I don't own Hey Arnold, any characters or locations you recognize.

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I know some people think I'm weird. I know I'm weird. For heaven's sake, I used to collect lint! I ate plain flavoured gum and had a sinus problem, which cause me to snort periodically. It was fixed a few years back with surgery.

My parents always fought. Every now and then I was sent to stay with my cousin and his family. Though the last time I was there was three months ago was for his funeral. It was tragic. He and his girlfriend, Helga, had gone sailing. No one was sure why they didn't come back before the storm, or even why they had gone out in the first place. In any case, the boat they were sailing in hadn't made it. From what I understood, Arnold's body was found, but Helga's wasn't.

"Those poor, poor parents," my mother had sobbed. "How horrible to know your child is still out there somewhere…"

"Fish food by now," my father said.

My mom whacked him with her purse.

"Your horrible and insensitive!" she had yelled at him. After leaving the wake and on the way home they started fighting. Dad was angry that she had had her outburst in public like she had. She was angry that he was so insensitive and emotionless.

Emotion is weakness, was my father's motto.

The Pataki family, of course, hadn't attended Arnold's funeral, though their oldest daughter had passed on their condolences.

My parents fought a lot, though in the last year it had gotten much worse. My mother would throw plates, glasses, whatever she could grab, and throw it at him. He would scream at her and swear, calling her names, then leave. He would come back later at night, drunk and stumbling around, waking my mother and me up, which of course would start another fight.

I left for school that morning without a word to either of them. I couldn't be bothered with the effort. Whatever I said would probably just start another fight. I saw Hilda walking up ahead. She was one of those pretty girls, who were quiet. Lulu and co called her a snob behind her back. They reakoned that she didn't hang around with them because she thought she was better than them. And her family were really religious, too. She was strange as well, but in a different way to me.

The day went the same way it did everyday, with the exception of Hilda being called out of English class, but not coming back. Everyone whispered and speculated about why she was being pulled from class.

"She probably forgot to say her prayers this morning or something," Lulu's voice rang out. Everyone had a good laugh, though I didn't get why it was so funny. Mind you, Lulu wasn't in my good books. We'd only broken up two weeks ago. She'd been cheating on me the whole time.

I shook my head. It had driven her insane when I didn't react. On the outside, anyway. On the inside I was in an absolute rage. I literally saw red when I saw her and she admitted it to me like it was nothing. Instead of saying anything, I'd shrugged and walked away. I knew Lulu liked drama and was expecting me to get upset. And I was. But I wasn't going to give her and her minions the satisfaction of knowing that.

Coming home from school I saw suitcases packed. Thinking dad had decided to finally leave permanently, I didn't think too much of it and went upstairs to my room. A little while later mom came up to see how I was doing.

"Hey, honey, how are you?" she asked, coming in.

"Fine," I said, then went back to reading my book.

She stood there fidgetting for a bit, before finally coming in and sitting on my bed and looking at me.

"Arnie . . . I love you. I do," she started. "But, I think maybe it would be best if you stayed with your aunt Stella and uncle Miles for a little bit."

I just stared at her, not saying a word. What could I say?

Just then we heard the door downstairs slam and footsteps running up the stairs, before dad came bursting in.

"There's been an accident!" he shouted, and me and mom stood up and followed him.

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Once upon a time I lived the fairytale life. I had two parents who loved me, doted on me. I was an only child. I never met my cousins, Olga and Helga, and only met my Uncle Robert twice, at funerals. There was a family argument years before I was born. It caused a chasim that was never filled in, but not for lack of my father trying. My mother often told me how much it broke my Dadday's heart, that his older brother would never let it go. What "it" was, was never told to me. And I never asked. There was a unwritten rule on the list of Household Rules, that was pinned to the wall in the dining room.

Pataki's don't talk about problems. We sweep it under the rug.

I guess that is why I found my outlet artistically. I drew, wrote, painted. I played sports. My hair was always off my face in a singe ponytail. I started plucking my unibrow in middle school. Lulu had teased me mercilessly about it. She was one of the more "popular" girls in school, and by popular, I mean with the boys. And because of that, all the other girls in school buzzed around her like she was the queen bee of a hive. She made the rules, she decided who was in and who was out.

I was out.

But it never bothered me. I think that was one of the biggest reasons Lulu had it in for me. That, and I was often told how much prettier than her I was. I had the classic "all-american" look: blonde hair, blue eyes, tanned and toned, size 4 figure. Lulu had this rusty-brown hair she kept in two plaits. She dressed in dresses, and if you just met her you would think she was friendly and sweet. But she could be anything but.

"Hilda, are you ready?" I heard my mothers voice call up the stairs. I sighed and took one last look in the mirror. Wearing a pink tank and denim shorts with white sandals, hair in a barret today, I sighed. Another day in the grind.

"In a minute!" I called back. I grabbed my book bag and left my room, giving it one last look over to make sure it was all tidy. Yes. I am a neat freak. Sue me!

"Your father and I need to go into the city today," mom said, holding out a brown paper bag. I was on a strict diet, and she didn't trust the school cafeteria food.

My mom was perfect in my eyes. I got my blonde hair and blue eyes from her. I got my nose and ears from my dad. My mum was very talented, but was happy being the housewife. I spent a lot of time with my mother, which many girls at school thought was weird. They would sneak out of the house, drink, and fight with their mothers. But strangely I never had any fights with my mom. Disagreements, sure, but never fights. And I never spoke to her the way I knew some girls would speak to their mothers.

I wouldn't dare. My father would never let me get away with it.

We attended church every Sunday. We read a passage from the bible every night before dinner. We took turns. Dad, Mom, me. We said grace. Rhoda had once stayed and looked uncomfortable. Then she told the whole school that we were strictly religious and weird. She made up most of it, probably for Miss Queen Bee's attention.

"You look pretty today," my dad said. "Any special reason?"

"No, just felt like dressing up a bit," I said smiling. I loved my Dad. He was a big, friendly giant, though not as big as my Uncle Robert. I remember him being a big, loud, angry bear. The complete opposite of my dad. Maybe that's why they didn't get along?

I walked over and gave him a kiss, then mom a kiss.

"I made dinner, it's in the fridge, just warm it up, okay?" Mom said.

"Okay mom. Love you guys!" I said, blowing them kisses.

I wish I had known that was the last time I would see them.

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