Rain dotted the windshield of my car and I flipped on the wipers to smudge the water across the glass. It wasn't much of a rain, hardly worth such a title, but the sound of it pitter-pattering above me as I drove was calming and allowed me to mindlessly drive across Hillwood with no destination in sight.

God only knows how much I didn't want a destination.

Water splashed as I drove; my wheels gliding over the puddles in the divots of the road beneath me. The glow of the changing traffic lights burned at my eyes as I zoned out on the street ahead; my auto-pilot kicking in as I stopped at the appropriate times along the street.

It was late. Late enough that Hillwood was nearly empty, even on the busiest of roads. I pushed on the gas pedal as I drove absentmindedly; my hand dropping from the steering wheel to tap nervously on my lap while the other of my hands remained on the top of the circle it firmly held to direct myself forward and out of the town's limits.

I didn't care where I was going. Hell, I could have driven myself into a lake and never even known it until the water saturated my skin. I was just driving - driving to get away as if my problems were desperately trying to catch up to me though I knew no number of miles could separate my troubles from my mind.

She was in there.

Olga was stuck inside my head like a migraine that just wouldn't go away. No amount of medications could shut her up and no distance of running away could ever lose her.

Didn't mean I couldn't try.

I drove onward, the roads beginning to wind as I picked up my speed the second the sign signaled me to do so. With a flick of my finger, I turned on the brights of my car and scanned the road for any animals, though they hardly frequented this particular stretch. I'd driven down here multiple times and knew that it wasn't until reaching the golf course up ahead that you really had to watch for any sort of nature inhabitants scurrying across the road.

But sure enough, the darkened building of the golf club creeped up to me; it's large sign still illuminated by the lights hidden in the grass just below it. Glancing between the road and the golf club, I watched as the building switched to large, open, verdant fields that made up the boasting 30-hole course I'd been to many times since Bob had switched clubs some 10 years ago. We'd even come here to celebrate Olga's 30th birthday, her last milestone, though we'd never known it at the time.

The grassy hills soon turned to trees that dotted the landscape; their half-empty branches drawing spider webs over the moon which shined brightly in the darkened sky. Clouds began to wisp away the further I drove and it wasn't long before the drizzle became sprinkles and soon dissipated entirely.

The darkness of night enveloped me as I continued to drive. I sped passed the suburbs of Hillwood that lay scattered across the land just outside one of the private schools the city held. Further yet, it soon morphed into open fields that were dying off in preparation for the upcoming winter. Leaves danced across the dying plants; the wind dragging them along haphazardly in the air until they settled to lay on the cold ground awaiting the next surge of wind to carry them away once more.

Desperate to feel the crisp air on my skin, I held down the window button allowing wind to suck itself into my car and brush through my hair; the strands angrily flying about in every which way over my eyes, nose and mouth alike. Reaching up, I brushed them to the sides and tucked the tendrils behind my ears that were just big enough to excel at this sort of thing, then stuck my hand outside the window to feel the cool breeze of the mid-October night.

Hairs stood on end of my skin as the wind slammed against the exposed flesh of my forearm. It slapped me like knives just sharp enough to cut the skin and relieve it all at the same time. Somehow…. it calmed me; the temperature itself enough to soothe the upset nerves that were going wild inside me from the frenzy of memories flooding through my system.

Up ahead, roads began to appear- side roads that I rarely ever took. Without second thought, I slammed on my brakes and flipped on my blinker to sharply turn onto a random mysterious-looking road which claimed to take me to a town I'd never heard of.

Not like I cared.

Turn after turn I drove like this with only my natural born instincts leading as my GPS. I drove passed houses I'd never seen where families I'd never met lay inside sleeping. Each house held life after life that I'd never know of; each person living out their own personal struggles they thought to be the worst in the entire world.

That's how the whole world works, after all.

We're all just a series of people living out struggles we all think to be worse than our neighbors; even though there's an entire world out there full of others just like us.

Who was I to think I was the only one being affected by cancer? Who was I to think I was the only one who'd lost their sister far before her time? Who was I to think I was any more hurt than the Jones' or the Smith's or the Smittywerbenmanjenson's?

I pressed on the pedal as I took another turn from a gravel road onto a paved one and sped onward.

Who was I to think I was the only one suffering from heartbreak? From love they'd lost intentionally? Who was I to think that my love for Arnold was any more special than Sally's love for Jack? Or Lindsey's love for Brandi? Or Jimmy's love for Joe? Or anyone's love for ANYONE, for that matter?

Up ahead, bright red lights flashed downward and I eased on my brake as I came up to the railroad thundering with the sound of an oncoming train. With a sigh, I came to a stop and yanked my gear into park before collapsing backwards further into my seat and staring blankly out as the boxcars rattled by.

Sprinkles of rain began to dot my windshield and I leaned forward to look out and up at the sky through my window; the clouds from miles ago somehow finding me again where I waited at the tracks. Softly, they tapped above me in a rhythm of their own – a rhythm like that of the impatient nails of a receptionist on the wood tabletop of her desk.

TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAPTAPTAPTAP.

TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAPTAPTAPTAP.

The red-haired beehive-wearing lady smacked her gum in her mouth as she tapped her long blood-red painted fake nails on the countertop of her desk. Her blue eyes lazily looked at the computer screen ahead of her as she searched for my sister's name while I stared at her impatiently.

"You uh… you find the room she's in or what?" I urged while adjusting my weight from my left foot to my right and crossing my feet at the ankle as I stood to lean on the counter separating me from the annoyed receptionist. "It's just that she's not even SUPPOSED to be in here or anything, and I'd like to talk to her and find out who the hell is responsible for her ending up here in the FIRST place."

The receptionist – whose name was Brenda, which I'd read on her name badge – glanced over at me and through her glasses which were slid down to just above her nostrils. "Ma'am, if you could just be patient, I'm doing my best to find which room your sister is in." Her tone was singular and she seemed bored dealing with me; clearly read for her lunch break which I'm sure was approaching given as it was nearing noon.

"Let's see," she said mindlessly while clicking a few times on her mouse before nodding her head and pointing to a spot on the far right of her screen. "Pataki, Olga…" she said before tapping twice with the sharp tip of her acrylic nail on the same spot and announced without much expression, "Room 251."

Without so much as a thank you, I nodded my head to her and took off for the elevators which were just around the corner.

HONNNNNNNNNNNNK! A car's horn blared from behind me and I nearly jumped two feet in the air from where I sat in the driver's seat at the now empty train tracks.

"Yeah, yeah," I yelled while glaring at the shining lights reflecting out of my rear-view mirror, "I'm going, I'm going. Just keep your panties on, criminy!"

Quickly taking my car out of park, I sped onward, over the railroad tracks and then onto another random road which looked vaguely familiar.

I knocked on the door to room 251 and walked in despite the lack of answer. "Olga?" I asked quietly in case she was sleeping like she usually did these days.

Much to my surprise, she was seated upwards in her bed and smiling in my direction; a sight I hadn't seen in what felt like ages. "Helga!" she called out to me while setting down the mug of water she'd been sipping out of. "How is my sweet baby sister doing?"

Raising a brow, I shoved my hands into my jeans' front pockets and shrugged, "I was about to ask you the same thing. Why are you even in here? Wouldn't you rather be at home?"

Olga's expression drooped slightly and she pursed her lips sadly before taking a breath and saying, "Daddy thought maybe I should be somewhere… more… equipped to handle my condition."

"But you're on hospice," I said flat-out while taking my hands out of my pockets to cross them tightly over my chest. "

"Helga, he's just-"

"Been trying to control your ENTIRE LIFE, and now he's trying to control how you DIE. Doesn't that BUG you, Olga? I know you're not dumb, so you must just be blind." The words came out angrily and seemed to take Olga off-guard. With a tired smile, she gestured for me to come in further into the room.

"Come sit by me, Helga. I'd like to talk to you."

I pressed on the gas pedal harder as I winded around the road through the shadows of the night; my eyes glued ahead on the road though my mind continued to wander far into my subconscious.

With hesitation and a curious look, I uncrossed my arms and made my way to the faux leather chair sitting just beside Olga's bed. Once I took a seat and twisted to face her, she took a breath and smiled sadly in my direction.

"Helga, I'm dying."

I eyed her carefully before looking away from her to focus on the shoes I was wearing- my usual white converse covered in dirt and mud stains. "Yeah. And?"

"And," she continued, "when you're dying, you, you look at situations differently than say someone like you who will, I hope, live a long and fruitful life."

Glancing up to her out the corner of my eye, I wrinkled my nose in irritation. "What are you getting at." I demanded.

"Daddy needs me in here, Helga," she concluded quietly. "He thinks I'm safer here and that, if something were to happen, they could save me easier than you and Arnold could."

"So what?" I asked angrily. "So you can go on for a few more months MISERABLY rather than dying in peace at home without all these…WIRES and beeping machines?"

Olga nodded her head sadly. "I guess that's one way to put it."

"You're being ridiculous," I concluded, though Olga merely shook her head.

"I'm being considerate."

"Considerate?" I exclaimed. "To whom, may I ask? Our parents who are beyond hopeless, might I add? What's the point in being considerate to THEM?"

Olga smiled warmly and reached out to softly touch my forearm with her cool fingers. "Because they'll be the ones left once I'm gone. You too, but I know you're stronger than they are. There's no doubt in my mind you'll be alright once I've left you."

"You don't know anything," I muttered while snatching my arm away from her and she sighed before adjusting in her bed.

"Helga, you don't need to be so angry," Her words were tentative; fearful of the reaction I'd have at their content.

In true Helga G. Pataki style, I snapped my head to turn and glare at her. "Angry? You think I'm ANGRY?" I shouted the words at her though she refused to react. "I'm FURIOUS. I'm mad that you think you have to be in here just to please THEM. It's ALWAYS to please them, isn't it Olga? That's what it's ALWAYS been. What about yourself? What about me? What about everyone else out there who is rooting for you? Shouldn't you go on your OWN terms? Shouldn't YOU be the one to choose how YOU want to die for cripes sake?!"

I stood up from the chair and shook my head while making my way towards the door. "I'm not doing this. Have fun dying, Olga. Make a good show of it- for their sake. After all, I'll be just fine. You've made that perfectly clear to me now."

My eyes relaxed from staring intently out at the darkened road ahead of me and I dropped one of my hands which had been unknowingly squeezing the wheel so hard my knuckles had turned white.

I never talked to Olga again. Not with her at least.

Soon after that conversation in the hospital, Olga went into a coma, about an hour or so after my visit to be precise. Naturally, Bob yelled at the poor nurse calling us to let us know, whereas me? I sat numb in my room trying to avoid the inevitable.

But I couldn't get away from that stupid feeling in my gut telling me I should go and see her one last time.

I blinked rapidly to readjust my attention ahead of me on the road. The last thing I needed was to get into some accident, although, with the level of tragedy currently residing in my parents I doubt they'd even bat an eye at the news of it. With a sigh, I shook my head at my own thoughts and continued on; my pursuit for disappearing into the night succumbing me.

In the darkness, only the brightest of the fall leaves could be seen. Golden yellows peeked out through the shadows as I drove; the deep maroons and saturated oranges only just vibrant enough to be illuminated by my bright lights as I sped past them.

I glanced around briefly at my environment as it zoomed by my window; nearly everything unrecognizable this late at night. My eyes flickered over to my gas tank as the red arrow hovered over the luminescent 'F' which only encouraged me to wander further into the unknown- without a care in the world as to where I ended up.

That's the beauty of GPS after all, no need to get all worried about getting lost and whatnot. With the simple tap of an icon I could find my way home at any point in my journey, kinda like the whole 'ruby slipper clause' in The Wizard of Oz which was total and utter bullshit. But I digress.

The problem was I just didn't want to. Find my way home that is. Nothing there - besides that weirdly mysterious box of Olga's - held any interest for me. Not that the world or the universe held much more in retrospect.

Blindly, I continued to take road after road, main roads and back roads alike. I was delightfully lost, a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time overtaking me; the feeling of wonderment. The feeling of adventure. The feeling of following the organ that was aching inside my chest, probably swollen and bulged from all the heartache it had dealt with in the past few months.

So needless to say, it was all I could do to stop myself from screaming when I pulled up to a familiar landmark; one I hadn't seen since I was nearly a child… a blind and foolish child who didn't know what kinds of idiocy were in store for her.

It was a bar and grill. Not an extravagant one, that's for sure, but a small town bar and grill called "Valley of the Hills Mercantile" fondly referred to by locals and radio ads with catchy jingles as "The Merc."

I stared at the rundown sign, my eyes glued to the rust that now decorated the metal letters once brightly painted blue as I recalled in my memory. The gravel parking lot was empty, not a surprise given the time of night, and the neon lights that usually blink with the brightly shining stars were lying dull gray against the window that stared out at me.

I'd spent many times inside that B&G with my poor-excuse-for-a-family. Back before Bob got angry with the church for "demanding his hard earned dollar bills," Miriam, Olga, him and I used to travel out here to attend mass on Sundays. Granted, everyone hated it, besides Olga of course who played piano and taught Sunday school each week, but besides all that the best part of the whole thing was stopping by the Merc for our after-services-splurging.

They had a pretty average menu. There were burgers, fries, all the usual bar foods that families can order on the rare occasion that THEY show up instead of the usual boozies (though Miriam could fit into that category by herself with ease.) But believe it or not, the two things I remembered the most were the least likely combination of things to remember from any bar, especially some shit hole dive in the middle of practically nowhere.

No, when I think about the Merc, it's their root beer that stands out to me. Well, their root beer, that is, and their bathrooms.

"Mommy, daddy, I gotta go potty," I whined from where I sat in my chair tightly pulled up to the table we were all sitting at.

Miriam glanced my way while taking a large gulp from her Bloody Mary. "Wh-what was that honey? You uh, you want to play some games up there at the bar, sweetie?" She pointed haphazardly behind herself at the screen flashing various demos of games you could play and I shook my head angrily while squirming in my seat.

"Potty! I gotta go to the-" I shouted, Bob quick to point his fork at me and, while chewing like the charming human being he was, shouted back to me with a growl in his voice.

"Oh no, you're not going ANYWHERE little lady until you finish that Root Beer you just HAD to have." He nodded towards my frosty glass mug that had been plopped down in front of me at the beginning of our meal. "One cup of that stuff is damn expensive and we don't just waste money around here."

Olga, immediately to the rescue, smiled his way and picked up her napkin to wipe at her face. "Daddy, I think she has to use the little girl's room," she explained calmly, though Bob merely shrugged her off.

"What? Oh, uh, you'll go take the girl, won't you Miriam?"

Miriam glanced over at him and blinked blankly. "What did you say, B?"

With an elegant wave of her hand, Olga stood up from her chair. "Don't worry about it, Mommy. I'd be happy to take little Helga to the restroom." She outstretched her hand to me, though I only used it to help myself off of the chair and scurry around in search for the nearest toilets.

"Woah, woah, woah there, baby sister!" Olga giggled as she walked up to me and scooped me up from the floor with ease. "You won't go finding THIS bathroom, silly!"

"But I gotta gooooo," I continued to whine, my poor bladder just about ready to burst.

Realizing I was sitting directly at the intersection to pulling into the Merc and turning to drive to the actual town of Valley in the Hills, I quickly made the turn towards the small town and continued on my merry way; my hand reaching up to absentmindedly play with my lip as I lost myself further to my own memories.

I looked up at the old-school pop machine staring back at Olga and me. "But… where is the potties?" I asked in wonderment while Olga laughed her annoyingly delicate princess chortle at me.

"Why, they're right here, silly willy," she cooed while pinching my nose gently and wiggling it for me.

"Pop machine?" I said blankly while inspecting the machine from head to toe.

"No, no, baby sister. This is a SPECIAL bathroom. It's hidden behind here, you see?" While holding me in her arms still, she reached out with her free arm and yanked on the side of the machine; the entirety of it swinging open to reveal a hallway leading to the very bathrooms she was so intent were behind there.

With wide eyes, I allowed Olga to carry me inside; both of us disappearing entirely into the hidden bathrooms unlike any my little 4-year-old imagination could dream up.

I smirked to myself while dropping my hand from my face. It'd been years since I'd been inside that building, the last time being when I was probably only about 8. What with Olga so much older and being out of the house and whatnot by then, the whole experience was kind of worthless at that point.

And hey- why spend money on food for your leftover kid when the important kid is gone anyway, right?

I looked ahead at the small town of Valley in the Hills just coming up into my view. The whole town sat at the top of this huge hill that felt like the first hill of a rollercoaster. The road climbed, and climbed ahead of me; the outstretch of bumpy gravel dark in the night, though the memory of the last time I'd driven this hill climbed itself into my subconscious.

Lights dotted the road as our processional flashed our hazards from ahead and behind me. I'd opted out of riding with the 'family,' as if I was ever even CONSIDERED to be part of THAT nightmare, and took my own car to follow along in single file with the rest of the Olga-fan-club. I stared blankly ahead as I watched the three cars separating me from the limousine which held my distraught parents and the rest of their regrets.

They wouldn't have had enough room in there for me ANYWAY, I thought.

I glanced out my window at the small town's buildings; a creamery, a bar, a few scattered houses, another bar and finally-

My eyes traveled ahead to the large white building my subconscious had led me to as I pulled into the parking lot just beside it.

-a church.

The Our Lady of Lords Church. The very church our family had so many times gone to in my childhood.

Oh, and also where my sister's final resting place just so happened to be.

Sitting in my car, the quiet hum of the engine egging me on, I stared out at the cement steps leading up to the main entrance of the church. Each step was crumbling at its corners from years of churchgoers clipclopping onto the pavement like the soft padding of horseshoes on cobblestone.

With tearstained faces they climbed up the steps while donning their fancy dress shoes shined to near perfection. I imagined each of them had spent hours planning their ensembles for this occasion- a sad chance to get together and cry over cheap sweet rolls and less-than-strong coffee out of 'kegs' provided by the church.

The sound of their phantom footsteps filled my ears and though nobody was around to make them, I imagined them; countless bodies covered in black as they flocked inside the church for my beloved sister's funeral. In the shadows of the night I could almost see them manifest and walk inside just like they had on that September day- that September day which just so happened to be the last time I'd been to the church I was still sitting awkwardly in the parking lot of at 1 am in the morning.

Still on some form of autopilot, my arm reached up to gently touch at my keys which were dangling my familiar lanyard with various plastic cards on the keyring; each one's logo faded from years of being handled and yet hardly ever used. With a flick of my wrist, I turned the key of the ignition back to silence the car; the engine ticking as it settled itself to a stop.

I sat in my car as the echo of other car doors slammed shut all around me; clouds of black emerging from the minivans and sports cars alike only to follow the crowd into the church like mindless mice, or sheep following a herd over a cliff. I stared at myself in my rear-view mirror; my eyes dragged down by heavy black bags I'd tried hopelessly to cover with concealer.

"Well, Helga old girl," I said to my reflection staring tiredly back at me, "you ready for this festival of fools?"

I smirked lazily at myself and let out a sigh in an effort to relax some of my tensing neck muscles. Directly, I stared into my own eyes as I looked in the mirror with determination and a stern expression.

"Today's the day you've been waiting for for, well, practically your entire natural born life. Today, you get to say goodbye to Olga. A GOODBYE, goodbye. Never again will she bug you about smiling more or… or telling embarrassing story after embarrassing story to all of your friends, AND some of your enemies. No more 'baby sister this' and 'baby sister that' to everyone and their mother when you're out in public just trying to live your life in peace. No more Olga-isms or Olga crying sessions or ANY of the annoying things she's always done to outshine you and overshadow you – YOU – Helga G. Pataki. TODAY is the first day of the rest of your LIFE," I pep talked to the mirror.

Tears started to well in my eyes as the lump in my throat grew to nearly the size of a coconut trying to force its way through my esophagus. With a deep breath, I broke eye contact with myself and dropped my head in shame while squeezing my eyes tightly shut.

"Criminy, you big wuss," I said to myself through the crack in my voice, "why'd you have to go and start to LIKE her so much ANYWAY?"

I pursed my lips and confronted my rear-view mirror; my eyes squinting at my reflection before ultimately relaxing with the rest of my expression.

"Helga," I said to myself just above a whisper, "What are you DOING?"

The slam of a car door and a familiar laughing old voice snapped my head back up as I looked into my mirror once more.

Just behind me getting out of their rusted old Packard were Arnold's parents and his grandfather; his cane in tow. And of course, standing beside them was none other than the football headed boy who I'd fallen in love with so many years ago. He wore a button down black shirt, a tie and black pants to match- though the white of his black converse gave him away.

He was here. He was here to say goodbye to Olga along with everyone else.

But above all, I knew what he was REALLY doing here.

He was here to support me.

My eyes flickered back to my reflection still framed in the mirror. With a deep breath, I nodded my head once to myself and choked out, "Welp. You ready?"

I stared myself down and dug deep into my blue eyes which tried to penetrate my own soul. My eyes stung as I held onto my reflection, clinging to it as the nerves in my lids begged to fall shut at last. It wasn't until stars dotted the sides of my peripheral that I finally brought myself to blink; an almost sinister smile greeting me again once my vision had finally cleared.

I nodded at myself, a sort of finality behind my gesture, and I opened my mouth to speak the two words which I never thought I'd say; the answer to the question I'd asked a month ago and only now had the guts to reply to.

"I'm ready."

Well folks, thank you for being so patient for this update! I've been trying to decide where I should end this chapter which has been the bulk of my procrastination in posting but ALAS, here we are and I hope you enjoyed this little chapter.

This whole town Helga is in right now is based off of a town nearby where I live. I have so many memories in this town with my grandma, godfather and great aunt. When I was a kid, I always used to go to The Merc and get the BEST root beer known to man, it was more like sarsaparilla but it was always in these frosty big mugs and it was so good. Their bathroom is TOTALLY like that, also. Its always fun to bring people there and show how cool it is because, unless you KNOW where it is, it blends in so well it's nearly impossible to find it. And the church she's going to is based on the church we'd go to when I was a kid with my grandparents and great aunt who actually just passed away this year. I remember when she passed away, she was the last of my elderly family to pass away, I went driving like Helga did to all the places we used to go, way late at night. Much of this chapter and the next is sort of based off of it. My grandma is buried in the cemetery out back, which is also where I went, but we will get to that later on in the story ;)

We are finally approaching the crux of the story and I look forward to the next few chapters yet to come in this fic which has truly become my baby and something I am incredibly proud of.

As always, please leave me a review to let me know how I'm doing, how the pace of the story is, if you like the flashbacks (cause they are my favorite part to write, not gonna lie) where you think the story is going, what you think is inside of that box for Helga, all that good stuff, all those predictions and feelings and thoughts I WANT TO KNOW THEM, so drop me a review- they are what keep me going!

See you at the next chappie! Stay tuned!

-Polka

(PS- look out for some AMAZING artwork from AibouFTW which I've commissioned from her! They go hand in hand with this story so keep your eyes peeled! they are (as she is) AMAZING! )