This chapter has been a TOUGH one but I am overall satisfied with its end result!

It was originally a lot longer, but when I reached 55 pages on my computer, I realized maybe it was time to cut it short and start the next chapter XD

Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter- hopefully nobody is disliking the rough rollercoaster of fluff and action I have going on- I hope you're all still enjoying this story :)

I am working with a very wonderful artist who is commissioning a poster for this fic, and I am SUPER STOKED for it to be finished and added to the cover for this story- you guys are going to LOVE it!

Anyway, Enjoy and PLEASE PLEASE do REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW :)

I awoke to Arnold nudging me softly, his voice permeating my restless dreams that had kept me up most of the night. "Helga? Helga, wake up."

My eyes fluttered open, his face becoming clear as my eyes focused. It wasn't very bright out yet; the air around us still cool with morning stickiness and the sound of animals waking to start their day.

I flung my arm over my eyes and groaned. "Ung... my neck is KILLING me."

"Well, I didn't tell you to sleep out here on... Helga you slept on a rock?"

Sitting up and yawning, I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. "Not like there's an Ikea around the corner with pillows and blankets." I reached behind to put my hands on my lower back and stretch my aching muscles. "Or mattresses." I added.

Arnold offered his hand to help pull me up from the grass that I'd flattened from my tossing and turning. "We should find food."

"We going hunting like the late great caveman or something? Big spears and nets and junk?"

He laughed at my obvious nonsense and rolled his eyes while turning around to collect his backpack and the journal he'd left sitting by the fire long burned out from last night. "More like looking around for edible plants and clean water. Less dangerous."

We started with a search for water, something that turned out not to be very difficult. A small stream was nearby with water so clear it was like crystal. After filling our bellies with the cool crisp water, we refocused our attention on the hunt for food- Arnold's way.

Once we found some berries and roots that he recognized as safe, we chowed down from the safety of a low-lying tree branch where we watched the sun rise to paint the sky glorious shades of oranges and pinks. They mixed together like watercolors on a blank canvas; the colors intermingling with one another in a display of beauty I'd never seen before. It was the kind of beauty even the best of artists could never quite replicate, despite their efforts.

Arnold and I didn't talk about the night before, it's truth something I think Arnold and I were both kind of fearful of even though most everything was out in the open now.

But the way I caught him looking at me every so often... it gave me hope that maybe we WOULD talk about it someday. And maybe we could finish the kiss we'd almost had back at his campsite before everything got complicated like life often did when anything involved the two of us.

Funny how that worked, Arnold and mine's impeccable luck.

Luck however, had nothing to do with finding his parents and the hidden city of the green eyes. For THAT, we'd need a downright MIRACLE.

After the sun rose a bit higher in the sky to light up our way, we decided it was time to stop doddeling and get back to our mission:

Finding the altar Eduardo told us about.

Arnold pulled out the journal and looked at our surroundings to compare them with the map.

"The thing is, I've looked at this map a million times and there's nothing on here about an Altar..." He said while tapping on the pages absentmindedly. "So how did Eduardo know about it and where it is?"

"Not to mention, why didn't he ever think to tell you? That's kind of a real dick move if you ask me." I was irritated that Eduardo could do such a thing to the people who were supposed to be his friends; to the boy who was so hopeful and had traveled all this way to try and find them.

I thought back to the words he'd told me while we were on the river-boat... About how he'd hoped Arnold had more luck than he.

What a load of crap.

"Let's not convict him of anything yet," Arnold concluded, nodding his head as if trying to convince himself. "Maybe if we find that altar, it will all make sense. He DID tell me, so there has to be a reason why he kept it for this long."

"I don't know, Arnold. It sounds like a trap."

His eyes narrowed at me defensively. "He wouldn't do that. Not to me. Not to my parents."

But I didn't know Eduardo- I was an objective view on his incredibly personal friendship and while I thought something seemed a little fishy, Arnold wouldn't believe me.

Unless there was proof.

"Fine. So where do we go then if it's not on your map and the only directions we have are that the altar is 'passed the waterfall?'"

The two of us spun in a circle; our eyes searching for the mysterious altar we had been told to find. What would be there? A clue? A hint?

Or worse- a trap?

"Let's... Just start walking I guess." Arnold suggested. It was the best suggestion we could come up with, and the only thing we could think to do.

So we walked.

We wandered the jungle, now fully alive in the sun's glow. The river wasn't as violent as it had been yesterday; you could watch the fish swim in it's clear waters.

Arnold said we should follow the direction of was was labeled on the map as "Sapote falls." I guessed it made a kind of sense, staying by the water. If you're living in the middle of a jungle you SHOULD probably stick by where there's water to drink and food to find and eat.

I imagined a village of Mayan-like people, the people who the green-eyes reminded me of most. We'd learned about the Mayans in school; their crazy rituals and specific culture. They were so ahead of their time, the same way Arnold had explained the green-eyes were according to what his dad had wrote in the journal.

It was probably true that they were just as smart if not smarter, seeing as we were completely lost and with absolutely nothing to go on.

"Do you have ANY idea what we're even looking for? And don't you DARE say an altar because I'll thump you."

"No you wouldn't." He replied, still looking around in vain.

"You wanna try me, pal?" I threatened, but he only shook his head with a sigh.

"I know you're frustrated, but I am too. We've been looking for hours now."

I looked around for somewhere I could sit and only found a few oddly shaped rocks that I could lean against. "You don't have to remind me of THAT. The sun is ready to start setting behind those clouds."

"It looks like it's gonna rain..." Arnold commented, his eyes focused on the dark and growing cloudier sky.

"What? You're a meteorologist now? Tell me, Arnoldo, what's the plan for tomorrow? Cloudy skies with a chance of still being lost in the jungle searching for something we're NEVER going to find?"

He turned around to look at me with tired eyes, "We'll find it, Helga."

"NO we WON'T! Not when we keep wandering in circles. It won't be too long before we die out here from exhaustion!" I threw my hands up in the air and made my way to the rocks I so desperately needed to rest on.

"I think you're over-exaggerating."

"Oh really? Then YOU tell me why it is we-" but I was cut off the moment I let my body weight rest on those weird looking boulders and I quickly fell to the ground with a loud THUMP!

"Helga?!" Arnold rushed to my side, clearly worried by my clumsy tumble. "Are you alright?"

But I couldn't even focus on his hand as he reached it out to help me up. My eyes were focused ahead on the shadows that looked to be hiding a big statue of sorts, though it was hard to see anything specific.

All I knew was that I had a pretty good feeling I knew what I was looking at.

"A-Arnold?" I stuttered out, my eyes widening.

"Huh? What? Are you hurt?" He asked, still wildly concerned and looking me over.

I pointed out a lone finger in the direction of the ancient-looking architecture through the path shaded by the tall trees. Clearing my throat, I finally spoke.

"I think we may have found that altar..."

Helping me up, both of our attention glued ahead on what appeared more like a shrine than an altar (and believe me, I had experience in the shrine-department), we slowly approached the pathway leading into the mysterious shadows.

I looked around at the trees that curved to make a sort of tunnel as we walked into it. It was all so mysterious; the sensation of intruding on something we weren't invited to intrude upon filling the air around us.

Arnold and I gasped once we entered the clearing that held the shrine we could see now had been nearly entirely destroyed.

The stone that was left from the once clearly great shrine had thick patches of moss covering it from years of being exposed to the elements. Crumbles of rock littered the ground in various sizes from big chunks to tiny pebbles. They lay around us in a sort of beautiful tragedy of what was once a part of something so sacred and important. We stepped closer towards the remnants of the shrine; stepping on broken pieces of it as we walked.

Columns were scattered around the open space of the stone covered ground that reminded me of cobblestone, only with a large eye insignia in the center. Passed that was the once larger-than-us shrine with a small table of sorts jutting out as if it were like an altar...

The altar.

By God, we'd FOUND it.

I wandered over to look through the larger pieces of the now-blighted-structure that were scattered around the space on both the stoned floor and the jungle's own dirt. Each piece of the crumbled bits of stone had parts of pictures carved into them which I assumed had been runes or hieroglyphics depending on what you wanted to call them.

One in particular, a larger piece, had a large eye carved into it... the symbol of the green-eyes.

I stared at the neatly carved eye for a while as Arnold continued towards what was left of the sacred construction up ahead.

"Who would do this?" I asked softly, my heart heavy with disappointment as I brushed my fingers over the eye staring up at me.

"I think you and I BOTH know who would DO this." He said with anger in his tone. "La Sambra. And he did it deliberately."

I raised a brow. "What makes you say that?" I asked.

"The prints in the mud... they're from the horses. But the prints are old, probably from yesterday or a day before that." His voice drifted off into his thoughts that he quietly voiced out loud, "They knew we'd come here."

I frowned and set the pieces of carved broken stone back on the ground, then standing to look at Arnold who was staring at the untouched stone altar. In the center of the round stone table I noticed something fluttering with the wind; a rock set on top of it to keep it from blowing away.

"What's that?" I asked while making my way to stand beside Arnold who's eyes were focused on the very thing I was addressing.

"Look for yourself." He was quiet, his voice laced with concern and fear.

I directed my eyes down to what was being held down by the small rock. Reaching out, I moved the rock to pick up the paper that had been wedged underneath: a picture.

But not just any picture. It was a picture I recognized. A picture I'd just recently seen on the walls of Arnold's hut.

The picture was of Gerald, Phoebe, Arnold and I about a year ago. Arnold and I had been standing on one side of the picture while Gerald and Phoebe were on the other side. We'd been at a museum for a history class trip and the set-up of the tiny action figures reminded us of that movie where the whole museum comes to life or something. We had laughed and laughed, making fun of the tiny structure and little plastic people for whatever reason- even though looking back NOW it hadn't actually been all that funny. I remembered posing for the picture; swooning at the soft scent of Arnold's hair as he stood beside me rather closely- something I'd noticed he'd been doing most of that day as we'd wandered the museum halls.

But that picture was ruined now, sort of like the ruins of the shrine. The picture was crusted with dirt, and had been crumpled and ripped. In fact, the picture was ripped so much so that only one part of the picture remained to stare back at us- it's image sending chills down my spine.

The picture had been ripped on purpose, that was clear. The only thing looking back as us...were us. Our smiles, frozen in time, watched us as we looked at the picture in horror.

It was a warning.

A warning that spoke louder than words ever could.

It said, I know who you are. I know where you're going. And I WILL find you.

I tossed the picture back on the altar and immediately turned around.

"Where are you going?" Arnold asked while watching me walk away from where he stood.

"Anywhere but here. You KNOW what that picture is there for, don't you?"

"It's to scare us." Arnold said flatly, not at all as concerned as I clearly was.

"It's messed up is what it is, Arnold. And I'm out of here." I kept walking, pushing branches from my face as I emerged from the clearing to continue walking now against the direction of the river in hopes to find my way backwards.

Wherever backwards led that is.

"Helga!" Arnold called after me, jogging to catch up and reach out to touch my shoulder.

But I spun around; his hand being flung from my shoulder as I did. "I did NOT sign up for this. I am NOT some kind of... jungle explorer!"

"And you think I am, Helga? You think this is something I have EXPERIENCE in?"

I nodded my head violently, my anger getting the best of me as I yelled in his face. "A whole HELL OF A LOT more EXPERIENCE than ME!"

"Helga..." his voice was soft; hurt.

The anger began to melt from my face, my once tense body now relaxing at the sound of my name leaving his lips. "Don't. Just... don't." I said, my voice now tired and defeated.

I felt Arnold's eyes on me. His fingers twitched at his side as if wanting to reach out and console me, but he restrained himself and instead asked, "Don't what?"

"Don't... Don't tell me to come with you, Arnold." I let out a sigh as I lowered my head in guilt, my voice now quiet as a mouse. "Because I will."

I shut my eyes, waiting for the words I was sure he would say anyway; those ever positive words that dug their heals in me and dragged me along with whatever it was he wanted to do- despite my better judgment.

"Why?" His voice was stronger than I'd expected. "So you can say I never asked you and you can blame me when you get lost? So you can disappear in the jungle where I'll never find you again?"

THAT wasn't what I had been expecting.

"Arnold, I-"

"We can DO this Helga," his newly encouraged voice said to me. "But... but I KNOW I can't do this without you." His eyes were pleading with mine, his hands now reaching out to gently take mine and squeeze them while he kept talking. "Please, Helga... I need you."

Maybe it wasn't the kind of need I'd always longed for.

Maybe it wasn't the kind of need I'd hoped he would say to me one day.

But he NEEDED me.

And with everything that had happened in the passed few days, with every crazy, crazy thing that had happened between us both jungle related and not... how could I just leave him now?

Because the TRUTH of the matter was not only did he need me... But I needed him.

In more ways than he could ever imagine.

I nodded my head and instinctively pulled my hands from his to cross them over my chest. "Fine. But we're going to need a better plan than just WALKING."

When I first found out that the Spanish trip would include a once in a lifetime zip-lining experience over a Central American jungle yet to be determined, I thought a couple of things.

One, it would be more beautiful than anything you could ever do- a real life IMAX movie like they showed at the science museum, but in super ultra high definition.

And two, I wouldn't be caught DEAD doing it, adrenaline rush or not.

I'd never been afraid of heights growing up. I was always the one jumping off cliffs into water during trips to the beach in the next state over, or climbing trees just to look at the world from a different perspective.

But the year that I'd fallen out of my usual climbing tree, fell so wrong that I'd nearly snapped my neck, that changed my opinion on heights INSTANTLY.

Even just jumping off that waterfall had freaked me out, the thought of hitting the water wrong overpowering me to push myself and jump. So it was a good thing Arnold had held my hand through the whole thing or I was likely to have backed out.

You could say heights and I had... a COMPLICATED relationship.

On the one hand, everything was beautiful from so high up in the air. On the other- it was SUPER intimidating. It was like just being up there above everything- above the world itself -was an adrenaline rush to make your muscles tingle. You could, in a way, suspend it in your body like a drug traveling through your veins.

The whole thing was almost TOO much responsibility to be trusted with. It was the responsibility for your very life.

And after falling the nearly two stories from the top of that tree had flashed before my eyes just what the price was of that 'responsibility' was.

So I never climbed again.

Until today that is.

"I am NOT doing it, Arnold. Nope. No way. Nice try, thanks anyway, but I'm going to skip this one out, HAIR Boy." I saluted him and turned around to walk away, but he had reached out to grab my arm and hold me from moving.

"Helga. You and I BOTH know you're a WAY better climber than me. And how ELSE are we going to see the entire jungle at once so we can map it out and gauge where to go?" His brow raising as he looked at me skeptically.

"NEWSFLASH, you HAVE a map courtesy of dear-old-dad, so WHY do we need anOTHER one? And beSIDES... I don't draw. YOU draw."

His cheeks flushed a pale pink.

Arnold had been REALLY good in the Art class we'd taken for an elective in tenth grade, I'd remembered because the kid and his talents never ceased to amaze me. His watercolor of this really gorgeous lily in a woman's hand had earned him a TROPHY in the annual 'Showcase' the school put on for the elective classes each year- kind of a show and tell if you will.

But he'd kinda given up on the art thing in lieu of other hobbies he apparently cared about more.

Anyway, the POINT was HE could make a more accurate map than I ever could.

"Then you can shout it down to me and I'll draw it."

I scoffed, the idea seeming a little far-fetched. "Arnold. Seriously."

"Just... please?" He huffed, now becoming irritated with our argument.

Tapping my foot a few times on the jungle floor, I let out a dramatic sigh and dropped my head back. "FINE, Arnold. I'll climb up the stinkin' tree. But you OWE me. I haven't...I haven't climbed a tree in years."

The trunk was hard to find hand holds for. My hands shook as I reached up to grab the first bit of trunk I could find and hoisted myself up to reach for the next hand-hold.

"You can DO this, Helga. I know you can."

I rolled my eyes as I brought my leg up to balance myself on the trunk like a monkey might do. "Yeah, yeah. Save your pep talk for the climb DOWN, will ya?"

Once I reached the first branch of the tree, the rest was a cinch. The further I traveled from the ground only helped dissolve the fear I'd had down there. I felt like someone other than me as I made my way up the giant tree. Each branch only helped to propel myself up to the very top of the tree where I could peek my head out and see a sight unlike any other.

Who needed a zip-line to feel like they were in an IMAX movie anyway?

"Arnold," I called down, my eyes never leaving the astounding landscape ahead of me "Arnold this is... amazing."

A soft layer of fog misted over the endless sea of trees that covered the rough terrain like a blanket over a child. The soon-to-be storm clouds were rolling in the sky like waves only adding it's threat to the beauty beneath it. I easily spotted the waterfall from where we'd came; two even smaller waterfalls in the distance just passed it. Further yet, I could see the tip of a large volcano; it's peak kissing the pale blue sky above it.

It was beautiful.

There was no greater artist than Mother Nature herself.

"Well? What do you see?" Arnold's faraway voice asked from below.

"You were right. It IS going to rain." I hollered down, a sly smirk resting on my mouth.

"How about the landscape? Something I can add to the map?" He tried again.

"Trees. SO many trees." I replied, my eyes scanning the vast jungle in search of anything worth noting.

"We're in the part of the map that's labeled 'unknown,' so you have to give me more than that." There was a slight chuckle in his voice; clear enjoyment that I wasn't cursing him out for making me climb the tree.

I tried my best to describe everything I saw- the waterfalls, trees, volcano and other sorts. Once he knew most everything about the world I was looking out at, I sat in silence where I was for just a moment and swung my legs back and forth. Breathing in the fresh jungle air, I closed my eyes softly and soaked in the sun. When I fluttered them open again, I took one last look out on the scenery, content with the memories of the landscape that I'd made.

But amid the vast greenery of the trees, a patch of brown stuck out; a patch that I hadn't noticed the first time I had looked out. The brown was so out of place from it's surroundings, I couldn't fathom what had made only THOSE trees die.

It was small, hardly noticeable, but it was there and it was worth noting. In the center of the brown was a small clearing... a clearing that could mean nothing and everything.

"Hey, Arnoldo? You still there?"

"Of course I am. What's wrong?" He sounded worried, but I shook my head even though he couldn't see me.

My eyes squinted out at the brown spot in the sea of green, "There's something else. I just noticed it."

"What's that?"

"Brown. A bunch of trees that are... brown. Which doesn't make a lot of sense because..." my voice trailed off, instead returning to my thoughts.

"Because why, Helga? I didn't hear you..."

Deciding to ignore his question and instead look out and commit to memory where the brown spot was in location to the waterfall and volcano, I quickly (and incredibly carefully might I add) started my way down the tree.

The problem with coming down from a great height was seeing the floor beneath you. It was one thing to look out at the world and another entirely to look DOWN at the world where you could easily fall and crack your skull open.

"Need that pep talk?" Arnold asked, his voice closer than I'd expected which was a good thing because it meant I was getting closer; my heart began to race.

"W-What did you... have in mind?" I asked, my palms growing sweaty as I tried to reach down and hold onto the next branch so I could lower myself to it's safety.

"One time I got stuck in a tree." Arnold said, his words slightly playful.

"Probably not the best story to tell right now, bucko." My voice was even shaky, my god I sounded like an imbecile.

A scared, wimpy imbecile.

"No, it has a good ending, I promise."

I focused on his voice, the way each word danced off his lips and up to my eardrums.

Smooth like butter. Comforting like hot brandy. Music to my ears.

I took a breath and focused my attention on the next branch; his yellow hair peaking out below me from the leaves. "Fine. What happened."

"Well, I went up there to try and get Eugene down."

I laughed loudly (and slightly nervously) as I set my feet on the next branch over and centered my weight in preparation to hop onto the one just below. "Figures Eugene would get caught in a tree."

"Well, I got stuck too. And Harold had to come get us. But then-"

My laugh cut him off, "Let me guess- Fat Boy got stuck in the tree too?"

I could see him smiling below me, the journal in his hands as he looked up to where I was gradually getting closer to him. "Yeah, but we all made it out of the tree alive. Obviously. But on the way down in the cherry picker... You'll NEVER guess what happened?"

I sighed, knowing exactly where he was headed with his stupid story. "It broke down. That's some pretty nasty luck Eugene has. Remember when he broke the ride at Dinoland?" The memory was a favorite of mine, only because we were stuck up there for over an hour and got free passes for a year out of the deal.

Without paying attention, the climb down getting a groove with each branch, I carelessly swung from the branch I was on over to the next.

"He did not break the ride, Helga. You don't actually believe in all that superstitious stuff, do you?"

"'Course not. But Eugene is cursed. That isn't superstition, that's a cold hard fact."

Leaping to the next branch with confidence, I wasn't even phased by the sudden give of the tree limb when it dropped out from under me.

I fell through the air faster than I had falling from the last tree I'd climbed. The earth flew passed me as I dropped, screaming all the way down.

Figures by just TALKING about Eugene he'd send me some of that rotten luck of his.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tensed my body in prep for the painful landing that was sure to come. With a THUMP, my free-falling body slammed itself into Arnold's arms which quickly buckled and sent us straight to the ground.

Immediately pushing myself up off of him, I spun around to my knees and hovered over him. "Arnold?! Arnold what the HELL?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, a grimace of pain stuck on his face.

I looked over him in panic, my eyes surveying any and all damage I'd accidentally done. For the most part, he was untouched; a few scrapes and a lot of dirt from hitting the ground at such force.

It was the blood seemingly pouring from a gash on his right arm that REALLY had me worried. "Oh my god..." I murmered with wide eyes.

Laying just beside him was a piece of the fallen branch- the part where it had split from the tree darkened from Arnold's blood.

"What? What?! What's wrong?" He kept asking through clenched teeth.

"Don't... don't open your eyes." I said firmly, but it didn't take long before those eyelids lifted to reveal his familiar green-eyes. "What did I JUST say? Criminy!"

We sat in shock as we watched the blood continue to seep from the wound. I tried to skim through any first-aid knowledge I'd retained through my years in school and life alike, but the only thing that was coming to mind was something Arnold wasn't going to like very much.

And I wouldn't enjoy the process of it too much either.

"I gotta press down on it, Arnold. We have to make it stop bleeding." My voice was gentle but firm as I knew what had to be done.

His eyes searched mine for a moment, a world of pain hiding behind them. But he nodded his head in small quick motions as if to hurry me along. "Okay. Okay, do it."

I returned his nod and took a deep breath looking at the bleeding cut. Rubbing my hand semi-clean on the denim of my jeans, I stared at him for a long moment. "You ready?" I asked, my brow raising slightly.

He kept his eyes focused on me, the pain and freakishly fast loss of blood making him appear slightly dizzy. "Mmhm." He hummed out.

With one fluid motion, I pressed my hand down on his arm hard; Arnold screaming in pain and writhing under my grip. His eyes were squeezed tight again as he recoiled from my stubborn hand that continued to apply pressure on the deep gash.

I watched him as the pain either began to subside or he began to pass out. It was when he stopped moving completely that I released some of the pressure on his arm and instead reached both hands up to cup his unconscious face. "Arnold? Arnold, wake up. C'mon, now."

His chest continued to rise and fall with his breathing, a sign that at least he was still alive. I looked over to the cut that, while dirty, was at least under control in the gushing-blood department.

With a frown, I looked around to see if there was anything I could use for a bandage that would be able to tie tight enough to keep the bleeding at bay.

My shirt? I thought, remembering how in movies people seemed to so easily rip strips of the fabric off to bandage a friend in need.

Reaching down, I gripped the cotton of my tank top and tried to rip it into a strip like the people in movies. But either I was incredibly weak (doubtful) or they have special easy-tear-fabric, because no matter HOW HARD I yanked, all I did was get Arnold's blood all over myself and unnecessarily stretched out my shirt.

I sighed, reaching over to continue applying pressure on Arnold as he stirred but still remained unconscious.

Pursing my lips, I tried to think of another solution.

Leaves? I wondered, but I couldn't see leaving him behind to try and find leaves that could very well spread some kind of jungle-infection or give him some kind of allergic reaction.

So I crossed THAT idea off my list.

Come on, Helga. There has to be SOMETHING around here to bandage him up with...

I glanced down to my ankle that was hidden by the big hiking boot I'd bought before the trip. They'd been really expensive, but had come in handy seeing all the impromptu running around I'd been doing.

Their other main practicality, and to be honest one of the ONLY reasons I bought the ones that came up so high passed the ankle, was tucked inside and neatly tied around my leg: the pink ribbon that used to live on top of my head nearly a lifetime ago.

Nobody knew I still had it.

Most days, when I wasn't roaming around and running from crazy guys in Central America that is, I hid my bow under the beanie I wore day in and day out. But here in the heat I'd had to get creative seeing as I didn't want that beanie to make the sun even WARMER than it already was.

So to take it with me, I tied it around my ankle.

It was like my security blanket, that ribbon. I'd HAD to take it with me.

There was something about keeping a little piece of the old me around. It was the one part of me that held a compliment from Arnold... the FIRST compliment from Arnold I'd ever received.

And that made it special.

A prized possession, really.

An artifact, even.

A relic of our (maybe one day) love. The beginnings of it at least.

Deciding that ribbon was probably my best option, I reached down to unzip my boot, pull it off and roll up my jeans to reveal the bright pink of the neatly tied ribbon.

With a determined huff and a nod, I pulled the loose end of the ribbon to untie it and quickly wrapped it around Arnold's arm; the blood soaking into the fibers of it almost instantly.

But sure enough, It'd done the trick. Within minutes the blood seemed to lessen thanks to the help of the tightly wound ribbon. I watched him breathe for a moment, each breath a reminder that he was going to be alright.

He was going to be just fine.

I noticed the familiar journal sitting open just beside him, the pages exposed to reveal a beautiful drawing of a baby Arnold sleeping with a plastic plane.

Curious, I carefully and slowly reached out for it to inspect the pages further.

Arnold never showed the whole journal to anyone, that was something he had always been INSISTANT on. But his secrecy only added to the mystery of it- the mystery of what could possibly be hiding in those pages that Arnold felt he needed to keep to himself.

Just a peak... no harm in a little peak...I convinced myself, despite the voice in my head screaming for me not to.

Quietly, I thumbed it to the start of the pages and began to skim through the unfamiliar handwriting; reading only bits and pieces of the sentences at first.

But almost in no time, I found myself getting lost in the words of Arnold's father, my mind enthralled in the throws of the story that is Arnold's parents. I was learning about them in the most personal of ways- through their very thoughts themselves.

And through learning about them, I was learning more about Arnold- things about him he didn't even know about himself until he'd discovered the journal. It was eye-opening. Inspired. I thirsted to read on to each next page as Arnold remained unconscious beside me; completely unaware.

I was about half-way into the journal when Arnold began to stir. Reaching up to rub his forehead slightly, he quietly asked "What happened?"

With my eyes still stuck on the pages, I answered his question somewhat distracted. "You passed out."

"I-I did?" He asked, but I simply nodded my head; my attention focusing on the words written on the old pages.

"WHAT are you doing?" Arnold asked accusingly and I flinched at the sudden change in the tone of his voice.

Thunder rolled in the distance, it's ominous grumble of what was to come only intensifying the seriousness in Arnold's sudden attitude change towards me.

My wide eyes looked up from the journal to meet his as they glared at me from where he lay.

Ah cripes...