Look who's back with another chapter! ME! Yay! Finally feeling better after being sick. Imma try to upload twice today. We'll see ;) ON WITH THE SHOW! As promised, a totally Arnold chapter.
Arnold's Point of View
Arnold sat on his bed and groaned in his hands. He honestly couldn't believe the letter he subjected himself to reading, nor could he understand how he could be so dense as to never realize the affection Helga had apparently held of him for all the years he had known her. After reading the letter, it was as if Arnold held the ability to remember every instant in his life where it should have been obvious. He knew he was dense, but could he really be that thick-headed?
Arnold shook his head and fell back onto his bed. He wanted to reverse time and forget all about the letter. It was a plague that was eating away at his mind, slowly making him mad. What could he do? Parts of the letter continued to flit through his mind.
Since the beginning of pre-school when I first saw you, I fell in love.
Your voice is like chocolate for my ears.
I would hide behind trashcans and monologue to myself about you...
Who else do you think had been stalking you night and day, building shrines to you in a closet, filling volumes of books with poems about you?
But, yes, I love you, Arnold, even still and always.
Arnold groaned out loudly again in frustration and rubbed his eyes roughly with his hands. She loved him? The bully Helga G. Pataki, the one person that made him feel inadequate about himself, the one person who tortured him so completely, the one person that (no matter how hard he tried) he always felt was pure and good deep down inside, loved him? This letter had to be a joke. Arnold couldn't believe it, and yet, the letter was filled with so much emotion that it had to be true.
Arnold couldn't explain to you, if you were to ask, about the real emotions he felt while reading the letter. He felt conflicted about the entire thing. There was shock. There was perturbance. There was hope that she would find a good therapist soon. There was something else he felt, however. It was something he couldn't describe adequately. One would think he felt disgusted. Stalking, shrines, poetry? However, he didn't feel that.
It was during the times when she would claim her love, when she would compliment him passionately physically and about his compassion and kindness. He would feel his heart move inside his chest, feel a kind of longing that he couldn't describe. There was one moment when this feeling grew to epic proportions:
It hurts me to see you with Little Miss Perfect, knowing that she has what I could never have. But, I want you to be happy Arnold, that's all I want, even if I myself am miserable.
These two sentences both hurt him and made him happy. He couldn't explain either.
So, Arnold lay there on his bed, his emotions conflicted, his thoughts consumed, and his heart aching in a way the confused him. He was deciding what to do about the letter, whether he should forget about it or own it. He placed his hands behind his head and stared up through his sky-light. It was dark, and he could see the night sky like it always was, without the stars. It was one of the things that Arnold hated the most about the city. He couldn't see the stars, nature's light show. With a sigh, Arnold turned over on his bed and began thinking to himself.
He could talk to Gerald about the letter, ask his opinion, though Arnold had a feeling he knew what Gerald would say. Gerald would say something about being right, then try to convince Arnold into giving Helga a chance. That was another thing that was on Arnold's mind. Gerald seemed keen on splitting Arnold and Lila up, and Arnold didn't understand it. Lila was his everything. He loved her, right? Yeah, of course he did. Then there was Lila. She'd been acting strange for a while, playing hooky and avoiding Arnold on occasion. He hoped he could learn what was wrong eventually. He felt the need to help her. With a sigh, Arnold decided to forget about Lila and return his attention back to the letter.
As he was thinking, he could get Gerald's advice, but Arnold felt as though that would invade Helga's privacy. The letter was written to him, and him alone. It would be wrong to involve another person when it wasn't meant for another pair of eyes beside his own. He had already hurt her once within twenty-four hours. He couldn't invade her privacy and crush her trust also.
Pushing himself up off his bed, Arnold decided to forget about the letter for the moment. He wanted to get back to it later, hopefully with a clearer mind about it. He made his way to his door, unlocking it and walking down his stairs. He didn't know where to go or what to do, but he decided he needed to leave his room for a while.
He walked over to Suzie's room, feeling the need to check on her again. He stood outside her door, just standing still. He needed to take a few breaths before raising his hand to knock. It should be easier for him to check on her, to make sure she was okay, but it wasn't. Seeing her state, her tear stained cheeks, ate away at him slowly every day. It made him feel useless to protecting the one thing that mattered most to him, his family. He felt as though he couldn't save her, couldn't save any of them. He felt like he was drowning, but he tried to lift up his family above waters.
He knocked on the door lightly, blinking back the sting of tears as she answered the door. Suzie looked the same as she had that morning. Her hair was askew, her clothing wrinkled and stained with tears. Her eyes were still red and puffy from the endless hours of crying. Her eyes seemed dead. She was a former shell of herself, and Arnold felt a pain in his chest from seeing someone he held dearly in so much pain. She stared at him unseeingly.
"Good evening Mrs. Kokoshka," Arnold began lightly, "I wanted to see how you're doing tonight. Do you need anything?"
Suzi looked down to the ground, avoiding Arnold's eye contact. She didn't reply. She stood still in the doorway before stepping inside and closing the door behind her without a word. Arnold stood there for only a few more moments before walking away solemnly. With his hands in his pocket, he walked down the boarding house hallway, stopping in front of Ernie's open door.
Ernie's room was emptier than it used to be, the bricks from every demolished building slowly disappearing with his move out of the boarding house. Arnold could still remember the stories Ernie would share about each block, the history. Arnold remembered being Ernie's "son" for his 500th demolition project. It was the greatest moment in Ernie's life, and he shared it with Arnold. Arnold watched as Ernie silently made his way to his door. Ernie briefly looked at Arnold and closed the door without even saying a "hello."
Arnold turned away from the door and debated with himself about walking on or going back to his room. He didn't feel like watching the continued destruction of his family, the withering of every happy moment. At the sight of a fly, however, Arnold made his choice. He went back to his room. Why was a fly so significant? Arnold remembered watching his grandmother try to catch the fly in her safari outfit, back in a time when he was Kimba, when he was more than Arnold, when things were better.
Arnold walked up the stairs to his room, the silence of the boarding house deafening and depressing. He wanted his grandmother's cackling; he wanted to hear the Kokoshka's arguing between themselves; he wanted to hear the country singing of Mr. Hyunh; he wanted to hear Ernie making loud booming noises about demolition; he wanted his grandfather to call him "Short-man" and make up stories and give advice that really never solved anything because they were all about raspberries. Life meant nothing to him without his family.
Arnold lay down on his bed again, wishing he hadn't ventured out of his room. With a single tear, Arnold closed his eyes and dreamed of happier times at the Boarding House.
.
It was the next day, and Arnold decided to face Helga head on. He wasn't going to ignore the letter, especially when Helga felt so strongly about him. He wasn't sure what he'd say, but he wanted to talk to her about it. If only Helga wasn't avoiding him the entire day. It wasn't until music class that he realized she was indeed avoiding him and the discussion that he felt should happen. Why was she avoiding him? Was she embarrassed? Did she know he had the letter? These questions were on his mind the entire day.
The school day was ending, and Arnold was beyond frustrated. Lila skipped another day to do God knows what, and hadn't even said anything to him. Honestly, he had his moment of contemplating whether he should give up on her. Then, he felt bad about said thoughts. He couldn't just give up on her! What if she was busy with something that had to occur during school? So, Arnold said nothing to her about it and left it alone for her to figure out. He didn't want to become a bother to her. On top of Lila skipping her classes, Helga was no where to be found. Other classmates said she was in her classes today (Except obviously music), she he knew she was just avoiding him rather than facing him. Wasn't it usually the other way around for them?
The final bell rang for the end of school and Arnold was glad it was over. He felt he could walk over to Helga's house and talk to her there. It was more private. It would probably make her feel more comfortable about the situation. Nodding his head in approval, Arnold stopped off at Mr. Leroy's room to finish some last minute assistant work.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Leroy."
"Oh! Good afternoon again, Arnold," Mr. Leroy said, looking up from grading papers. "You didn't have to come back to finish the work! I could have handled it." He smiled at Arnold.
Arnold smiled back. "Actually," Arnold began while grabbing the last few papers to sort and staple together, "I'm also here for a personal matter."
"Is this about the letter?"
Arnold looked up shocked before composing himself, "Sorta. Did Helga happen to mention it?"
"Nooope. Nope, I don't recall having that conversation today."
Something in Mr. Leroy's voice made it sound like he wasn't being completely truthful, but Arnold let it go.
"Alright."
Finishing his work, Arnold handed the stapled and sorted papers to his teacher and left saying goodbye. He didn't notice the small chuckle that Mr. Leroy gave on Arnold's way out.
Arnold continued walking down the hallway to the front of the school, tired from the day. Looking to the right, Arnold noticed Helga standing by her locker. Finally, he had an opportunity to say something to her. He made his way over to her.
"Helga?"
Helga jumped in the air and squealed in surprise. He didn't realize that would be her reaction, nor how slow she would take to turn around and face him. Arnold felt his face heat up as he looked at her, the girl who loved him. A part of him wanted to turn around and forget about talking to her about the letter, but the rational side knew he had to own up to it. Helga paled in front of him, and he knew then that she knew he had the letter. At least in this instant he wasn't dense. He looked at everything besides her. Arnold cleared his throat, forcing himself to look at her directly. He could do this. He had to do this.
"Helga... I... Can we talk?"
Alright, Alright, Alright. How do ya'll feel about that? I feel proud of Arnold, taking the initiative to talk to Helga first. It's so... Un-Arnold like. What is Arnold-like is his denseness... Seriously... He couldn't tell Mr. Leroy was messing with him! Oh, Arnold. What will I do with you...
And what's up with Mr. Leroy? Hmmm... What's that old man up to? Suspicious behavior if you ask me...
Comments appreciated always, as are positive critiques on my writing. :) Heck, why not favorite this story while you're at it ;)
There IS a part three to this chapter... I know... I'm sorry... BUT there is a SURPRISE POV! OMG! I'll try to update again later today :)
