A/N: Oh my gosh I'm alive?! I thought you guys were going to kill me for the last chapter! Thanks for sticking around! You won't regret it…I hope…Anyways, here's an update! Please review and let me know how I'm doing! For those who have reviewed thank you so much! I usually reply back to them, but for the guest reviews, I can't do that, so I'll start replying on here before the chapter begins. Let's see, for guests one and two: thanks for the reviews on this chapter and yes, yes I did. Why did I do it? Well keep reading to find out. More is going on than what meets the eye. Anyways thanks all!
Wife…
Managed to stabilize…
Matter of time…
Hopefully it will be soon…
According to human psychology, there are supposed to be five stages in the grieving process. The first is supposed to be denial, the second is anger, the third, bargaining, the fourth, depression, and then finally, the fifth stage being acceptance…but not always in that order…Of course everyone is different so everyone grieves differently.
Me on the other hand...
Helga watched the rain as it poured outside with a dull and lifeless glare. Usually such dreary weather would set the mood perfectly for the despair that consumed her soul while sunny weather would be like a mockery to those who felt anything but at peace, but in her case, it was the opposite. Even though it had its irritating qualities, the rain was one of the few symbolic joys that she had come to cherish thanks to the cheerful football headed little boy that soon became her everything; her reason for hoping, her reason for loving, and for becoming a better person.
But everything changed since that little boy no longer existed…
Her reason for hoping and loving and being that better person suddenly became conflicted and questionable from the moment she and everyone officially lowered the decorated and sacred coffin into the ground. It was one of the saddest yet honorable funeral ceremonies that had ever taken place in the small Hillwood community.
There was not a dry eye in sight, nor was there anyone absent from the tragic event. Everyone paid their respects accordingly; including the undercover Green Eyed people.
After all, this was the man who once saved the neighborhood…
The man who would not hesitate to lend a hand to those who needed it…
The man who made days brighter just by smiling or offering words of wisdom or encouragement…
The man who was prophesied to be something big, a precious value to hidden ancients, and just an all-around good man.
A hard working psychiatrist that helped change many lives, and formed bonds with the entire community especially with his long-time friends and family…
A loving husband and father who was just starting to experience a true fulfillment of something that he lacked when he was a child; having a completed family of his very own…
Everyone agreed that Arnold Shortman was one heck of a guy and would be missed. Gone but never forgotten…
Life was truly cruel to allow death to claim someone who did not deserve such a fate...No one believed that more than the broken hearted wife he left behind…
I guess that was the beginning of the denial stage for me…I just couldn't believe that he was gone…I wouldn't. I had half a mind to actually jump in the mourning crowd at the wake and slap the sh*t out of his unmoving corpse until he came back to life, demanding that he'd give up the charade of death, pleading for it all to be just a joke as all the gang used their entire strength and ability to pull me off of him…But then that would just make the pain worse…because I'd then realize that it wasn't a joke…and that my beloved was forever gone.
And I couldn't do a da** thing about it…
So I stood there, unmoving, stone faced, and played my part as the newly widowed woman as almost every chump around the town offered their petty condolences; forcing myself to look like the tough-as-nails person that everyone knew me to be; but this particular act was hard to pull off this time; mainly because I was anything but tough at the moment…
I was broken…
Gerald, Phoebe, Phil, Gertie, Miles, and Stella got that.
And though my heart broke for the entire gang, it was utterly crushed for the ones who I considered to be family…
My heart was shattered for my mother and father-in-law. They lost the only child that they were still having the pleasure to know after so long…And even more so for Phil and Gertie since they played the role of parents to the boy who thought he'd lost it all…And for Phoebe, mainly because of Gerald…He was more than Arnold's best friend for life…he was his brother…Her husband would never be the same…
The twins were hit hard too, even though they did not fully understand what had happened…Their grief not only showed in the tears that mixed and mingled with everyone else present, but also in their health…
And to think that I had to face all of this sh**…
I felt vulnerable, helpless, and alone...
I had feelings I haven't felt since the day I walked by myself in the rain…or when everyone laughed at me after stupid Harold stole my stupid crackers…
I guess history repeats itself since my solution turned out to be the same as it was back then…
Which brought me to the next grief stage…
I got angry.
But this anger was different…Rather than the explosive time bomb that I used to display every minute of the day, I was more confined. I was distant and isolated. Despite others hating and protesting against it, urging me to grieve and express myself, little did they know that those were my good days, because deep inside my silent disposition, I was raging in fury.
I was angry at everything and almost everyone for no reason. I mean it's not their faults that everyone eventually learned to move on as time passed while I was still stuck in the hopeless tragedy…But every time they tried to get me to open up, I made sure they regretted it...Turns out my fists were not the only weapons I had, my tongue left quite a sting with every lash I put out, and left quite a bit of damage…
I was angry at life; how dare it have the nerve to rip my existence to shreds like it did?! How dare death have the audacity to steal someone who was worth living?! How dare time continue to pass on like nothing ever happened…How dare everything seem to look like the same way before he left with the dirty hamper full of his soiled flannel shirts, or the work shirts he left on the floor when he was in a rush to heed a sudden urgent call at the hospital…They still had his scent on them…
His favorite chair permeated with the aroma of the shampoo I could never figure out as well as his side of the deluxe master bed we once shared…
A bed that was now so empty…
The aspects of normalcy and an average everyday life in the house was completely dismantled, but looked as if nothing ever changed…That made me angry too.
I was angry at Arnold…
I was angry at the promise he made…
I was angry at him for leaving me…
I was angry that he got captured…
I was angry that he had to play the hero…
I was angry at the Green Eyes…
I was angry at the deceased murderer who I would never get to have retribution on…
But most of all…I was angry at myself…
I was angry at myself for blaming Arnold when I knew he did nothing wrong…
I was angry at myself for not responding to the inner discomfort and fear that although were actually warning signs to me that my beloved was in danger, I passed it as paranoia…
I was angry at myself for allowing this to happen…
I was angry at myself…
I went into many "if only" and "what if" stages that brought me to the bargaining stage of grief…
I wasn't the only one. Stella, Miles, Phil, and Gertie all suffered, but in different ways. Both Phil and Gertie were impacted not only emotionally, but physically. We thought so many times that we were going to lose them at any moment. But somehow, they managed to hold onto a glimmer of hope that gave them purpose. And not just them but everyone including the gang, Miles, Stella, the Green Eyed people, and almost the entire community.
That glimmer of hope were the twins…
After the funeral ceremony, Maria and Roberto read contents belonging to Arnold's journal. It was filled with final requests and hopes for everyone. It gave them strength.
"My dearest friends and family, I am trapped here in a time I never thought I would find myself in; battling between the unknown of life and death as it threatens my existence. I wish I could do something, but it's harder than ever to stay hopeful like usual when death stares me straight in the face. Every second that I spend writing is like a gift given that I don't know will be given again. But I am determined to find my way out of this hell and back to you all; back to the ones I love where I belong. Even now, my mind and heart races with ideas and hopes for escape. Grandma's song that she used to play on the piano is what is keeping my outlook of a bright side possible even to this moment. I'm humming it now, silently, hoping, and praying that they don't sense my strength and attempt to take it away. But I've learned in life also to be rational along with hopeful; and that sometimes things don't work out the way you plan them to. Unfortunately, that seems to be my situation at the moment, so allow me to be pessimistic for one time. If this truly is the case that my plan will not succeed and that death awaits me the moment I take action, then please grant me my final wishes and fulfill my requests to the letter. Grieve as needed, but please learn to be strong again. Learn to love and cherish one another again. It will take time and be hard, but I need everyone to stay together like never before as if I were still around. I want the entire gang to stay together. Please don't break apart. I want my family to still be together. Lift each other up and don't give up on life…Finally, I beg everyone to please take care of my family. Give my wife and children a reason to smile despite the darkness that exists in the world. Give them a reason to 'look up' no matter what. That is my final request…I love you all with all of my heart. I can only hope that this reaches you."
And reached them it did. From that moment forward, though it took time and effort and courage, and gosh knows what else, somehow, some way, everyone managed to be there for each other. They managed to stay together for the sake of their children and most of all, for Philip and Halenie.
Their innocence was truly refreshing despite the devastation. They still played, laughed, and smiled at things that made them happy. Their ignorance of the concept of death was pure bliss; as if believing that daddy would come back again someday, just not today. And they would wait patiently, smiling and playing, and living life, until that day came.
Little did they know that it would never come.
I remembered the moments of silence I had in the house I used to call a home…It was still filled with his belongings and scent that did anything but comfort me. I fondled two things in my fingers; a letter from my beloved that Maria gave to me, and a beautiful gold heart-shaped locket, encrusted with little diamonds, and held a touching picture of my beloved and I as we held our precious baby twins. He gave it to me for my birthday…before he left…I read the touching inscription:
Helga, my beloved,
You, Phil, and Hal, are my very heart and soul. May the promise that we made last forever as a family.
Love, Arnold.
I felt the tears sting my eyes once more and swallowed the lump in my throat as I felt rage take over. The only question was, what to destroy first? I was ready to tear the letter into shreds, only to remember that Maria stressed how important it was that I read it; that it was Arnold's final request for them to give it to me before taking his final breath. I refused and instead pounded the beautiful locket on the hard wooden floor with my bear hands until it crushed into pieces, not caring if my blood mixed with it.
Before I could turn my destructive attention to the letter, I heard the cries of my little ones from upstairs. I trudged up the stairs as their cries pierced my anger to the core and replaced it with something else…
Despair.
As I held them in my arms and took in their expressions of sadness, fear, and the need to be loved, that's when it hit me. I was all alone in this. There would be no father for them to tuck them in at night with their mother. There would be no lullaby that only their father could sing to soothe their troubles at night. There would be no more piggyback or story time, or deep cheerful laughter at bath time, or someone to watch them grow up for school, baseball games, or lessons to teach them. The duties were all on me now. It would be up to me to fulfill the tasks of making life easier and manageable for them both. It would be up to me to teach them about life and help make them into better people and how to handle whatever life throws at them…
But how could I, when I couldn't even handle it myself?
I couldn't.
And with that, I held them tighter, rocking them in my arms as I apologized to them. I repented for lacking the strength to fulfill the tasks required. I apologized for the hard life I knew they would be burdened to face, I apologized for the death of their father.
"Oh Philip…Halenie…Mommy's sorry…Mommy's so sorry! Mommy's sorry! MOMMY IS SO SORRY!"
I chanted it over and over as I finally allowed myself to fully cry; my screams and sobs mixed with my beloved children as I gave into the despair.
That brought me to the next grief stage.
Depression.
Oh boy what a time that was, let me tell ya' bucko! Take a ghost, the stupid grumpy looking cat, and the tearful bloodhound, multiply their expressions by a million, and you would still not add up to how I looked every day when I hit that point.
It was pretty bad.
It got to the point where everything and everyone around me was affected. Not even Dr. Bliss who so graciously flew in to check on me could help me.
And I lost count at the many subtle attempts of suicide I tried to do, but got caught every time. I guess that's what happens when you have a best friend who unfortunately and occasionally still stalks you from time to time as an excuse for checking up on you. Da*n that stupid Brainy!"
I also lost count of how many times I was told that my state of mind was unhealthy for not only me but my children; and to think about them. If I had a dollar for every time I was told to be better for the sake of the children or to think about what my husband would have wanted, I would have been richer than Rhonda, Dino Spumoni, and Ronald Thump combined with a still flourishing net worth. Oh, speaking of money, things started to get rough since I stopped writing. Poor Kit-Kat tried vouching for me since I was in a grieving state, but business waits for no one, especially when you freelance for a living. So, she tried to do her part as a publicist and friend and urged me to do something. So I did, but it wasn't what she or anyone else wanted. I wrote new stories, sad ones. Ones without happily ever afters despite life's struggles. I wrote depressing novels filled with despair and just made you want to end life. It did not go so hot with the public, but the so called Emo audience loved it. And so my income was saved, but my career was never the same after that nor was my quirky friendship with my perky yet loyal publicist…
Nonetheless, I agreed with everyone when they said that it wasn't healthy for the children. Especially since their health was already affected. They cried a lot more, they had lots of stomach troubles, and it was just a nightmare trying to manage everything.
So, I let Stella, Miles, Gertie and Phil do it.
It was the hardest thing that I have ever done and can remember the day clearly. It was raining and I had all of the twins' stuff packed in suitcases that littered the Boarding House's living room floor as I stood in the doorway holding my twins for what I figured would be the last time…
"Helga…you don't have to do this." Miles stated sadly yet seriously.
"I do actually. I have to. It's the only way I know that they'll be okay, and to shut all of you morons up about not thinking about my own children."
"But exactly how long do you plan on being gone?!" Stella demanded indignantly.
"…I don't know. Until I can make sense of life again…or maybe until I can get a grip; whatever comes first I guess."
"Helga…" Phil started.
"Don't. You and I both know that this is the better option for all of us. With the way things are going, Sid, Gerald, and almost everyone else keeps saying that it's only a matter of time before social services intervenes and then that would really screw up the twins. You remember Arnold's last wish."
"We do. And we all agreed to stay together and take care of not only the twins but you as well Helga! You're family! And even more so, you are Philip and Halenie's mother! The only parent that they have left! Abandoning them like this is a huge mistake and will ruin their lives! Think about what you're doing!" Stella cried.
"I won't be gone forever. I will come back. Maybe by that time, I'll be better than I am now. But until then…this is me fulfilling Football-Head's last request. They'll be better off with you all. You all will take care of them and give them what I can't. Not yet anyways…"
I then kissed both of my little ones on their foreheads and whispered, "Goodbye Philip…Goodbye Halenie…Mommy will always love you…Mommy's sorry. Be good…" and finally gave them to Miles and Stella.
"If you ever need me, you know how to call me. I will come back again when the time is right. I promise." And with that, I left the porch and headed back into the pouring rain, my heart breaking as I heard my daughter cry for me.
"Mommy! Come back! I wan mommy! Mommy!"
"There, there now Halie. Don't cry…Mommy will come back again. I promise…Someday…" Stella consoled as she Miles, Phil, and Gertie took the twins into the house.
So yeah, from that point forward, it was just me in that beautiful yet very empty house…
Boy did I have a lot of time to think…I hated that.
It was like I was trapped and forced to grieve. I hated facing the loss that I finally realized happened and could do nothing about it. Criminy! No matter what I did, it was like being haunted! The Memories, the fleeting moments, the scents, his smile, his touch, all that he ever was, it all just hit me along with the fact that it would never happen again. Yeah see having thoughts like that 24/7 would drive anyone insane. So, I needed to occupy myself to keep the thoughts out. Drugs were out of the question. I mean yeah, I thought about it but come on! I had a freakin' boss reputation to maintain! So, I became addicted to my work. I wrote new material on an everyday basis, hired new publicists, and took on a few other freelance writing jobs. Anything to keep me busy, anything to keep the thoughts away.
But it wasn't until that fateful day where I found something that really helped me to handle everything…
It was Phoebe's birthday and all of the gals of the gang were throwing some type of bash for her that night and invited me. Some hesitated, but hey, I was still Phoebe's best friend and it wasn't like they could get rid of me that easily Bucko! But seeing how I was a major pain in the a** for them all, I decided to attend to still show that they meant something to me. Rhonda went crazy with giving everyone the works. I felt like a slut in the pathetic excuse of a fabric she called a cocktail dress that barely covered my frontal areas and heels, but did my time accordingly. We were supposed to meet up in some fancy shmancy restaurant, but I got lost on the way and ran into some type of bar on the other side of town.
Of course I was no Mother Theresa. I had my fair share of drinks on occasion and for the he** of it plenty of times, but it was always the memories of my mother that kept me from really drinking alcohol to a point. But the thoughts were invading my head once more and I guess I looked like utter sh** according to some dumb old oaf who was sitting next to me. He offered to buy me a drink and well, you know how that sh** usually turns out, so I refused. But then he had to get all personal and crap about what was bugging me and made a rather convincing suggestion.
"One drink of this, beautiful. That's all it takes! You'll feel better in no time! I mean no offense, but ya' look like sh**! And after what ya' told me, well who can blame ya?! But just a sip of this little pick-me-up it should do the trick! Fu** feelin' good as new, you won't feel anything at all!"
Not feeling anything at all…That intrigued me.
So I took a sip. Then after getting used to the awful fu**ing taste that only vodka on the rocks could bring, I had another sip…and another…and eventually that sip turned into a chug, followed by other drinks of more vodka, scotch, and some other fancy alcohol I can't remember…
It did the trick. For the first time in a long while, I felt nothing at all…
And I loved it…
I was free…Or so I thought…
Now come on Bucko! I wasn't stupid! I still had a professional reputation to maintain! I did a pretty good job at holding my liquor! I mean yeah I got wasted and did some…things that I'd rather not repeat, but the nice bartender never failed to cab me home! But man did I change after that…Anytime the thoughts would come creepin in' I'd go straight to the bottle. My eyes were more opened and I was more daring. I just felt like I could take on anything…something that I felt as a Pataki.
Which is exactly what I was.
But sometimes, things got a little messy. Like for instance, there was a time I hit the club and caught the eye of this cute muscular brunette number who kept buying me drinks. Hey, they were free drinks so no complaints on my end. Sure I buttered him up with some ridiculous flirt quirks, but it was worth it. Then things got a little hot and heavy. He knew how to kiss and where to touch for sure, maybe a little too much. It was so good, I heard myself moaning a name, but not his…I moaned for my husband…It didn't stop him as he threw me onto a bed, but once I realized that his heavy petting wasn't the same as my dearest Arnold's…I kind of freaked out once I realized it wasn't Football Head after all…And by freaked out, I mean I might have snarled and used Ol' Betsy to get him off of me. But the bastard was persistent…He tried to force me down to the bed, but before any of that perverted sh** was going to happen, in my rage, I grabbed a nearby table lamp and smashed it against his head. I then took my fists and pummeled his face over and over until he was a bloody pulp and he was the one screaming. I think he passed out at a point, not sure. Anyways, it was quite a fuss and the police barged in. Turns out, that perverted bastard was actually a dangerous serial rapist that got loose and they were looking for him for quite some time. Lucky me. Criminy, I should have gotten medal or something since I inadvertently caught the bad guy, but no! The police took care of things from there. I wanted to laugh in irony once I realized who the corresponding officer was. He, however, did not share my amusement.
"Da*n it Helga! This is the 5th time something like this happened!" Sid growled as he took me aside.
"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome Suds. Ya know a simple thank you Helga for your awesome boss-ness will suffice!"
Sid raised an eyebrow as he smelled my breath. "My gosh…You're drunk again aren't you?"
"I dunno what you're fu**ing talkin' bout." I slurred again with a scowl.
"YOU'RE FU**ING DRUNK AGAIN?! HELGA! You…I thought you promised that you would stop this sh**!" Sid gritted through his teeth, trying to calm down from his outburst.
"You're not the boss of me Suds! And besides, like he** I would listen to someone who's got a popsicle stick for a nose! Then again if ya' squint it's kind of shaped like a really small sized di-"
"-You know I could have you arrested for pulling something like this?!" He cut me off angrily.
"Mm nope. Not really. I mean criminy, it's not like I waz drivin' or nothin'. I was hittin' the club. Perfectly nermal. So outa my way Bucko you're blockin' the sun and I'm blowin' this joint. I got a blog to write in the mornin' so I need my beauty sleep."
"First off, that's not the sun, it's the moon. And second, you are in no position to tell me anything Helga. In case you've forgotten, I am a certified police officer of the HPD and it is my duty to ensure your safety. I'm also a concerned friend that knows that the road you're going down leads to nothing but what I put behind bars on a normal basis and if Arnold saw what you became right now-"
I got up in his face at that point, but he stopped me before I could raise my hand. "Need I remind you that assaulting a police officer is against the law?"
"Then shut the fu** up before I do something we both will regret." I growled through my teeth. "I'm outa here."
"…At least let me drive you hom-"
"No. You've done enough for one night Bucko! I'll find my own way home! I can handle myself! I don't need no babysitter!" I snarled and turned to stomp away.
"YEAH YOU'RE RIGHT! CAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ONE FOR LIFE! OR HAD YOU FORGOTTEN ALL ABOUT PHILIP AND HALENIE TOO?!" He shouted.
I paused, not turning around.
"…They turned three today…Miles, Stella, and everyone threw a nice little party for them. Guess who was absent? Guess who they asked about?" He glared at her.
"I sent them cards…"
"They're three Helga. They can't read!"
"So you all can read it to them."
"That's not the same and you KNOW It! How can you live with yourself…knowing that every day that passes by, you miss out on the growth of your own flesh and blood thinking like it doesn't matter to them?" He softened his voice in sorrow.
"…I manage once I figure that it's what's best." I replied without emotion.
"The Helga G. Shortman I know, wouldn't put up with bullsh** like that…She would fight and do whatever it takes to make sure her children are loved and cared for and not left to face the world alone!"
"Well shows how much you know then Bucko…I'm not a Shortman anymore…I'm Helga. G. Pataki…"
Like I said, sometimes things got messy. But a fair amount of time passed on, so that just brings me to ask one question…Where the fu** is the acceptance stage? I mean, I followed all the steps of grief accordingly…It's just a fact of life that although is unfortunate, happens and we have to deal with it. Time heals all wounds right? So then, why is it that the final stage has never come for me? Does life hate me that much?
I guess I can only wonder…
Helga wrapped the flannel shirt that once belonged to her husband around her shoulders even tighter as she continued to watch the pour down out the window. Her phone rang, but she ignored it and reached for a bottle of Scotch in her mini bar.
Meanwhile…
"Grandma! Grandma!"
Stella jumped up once she heard the little voice of distress, only to suddenly be embraced by a crying football shaped headed little girl.
"Halie? Sweetie what's wrong?" She cooed with concern.
"I don't wanna be eaten by the lions! Pwease help me! I don't wanna be eaten by the bad, bad animals of the jungle! Pwease don't make me go to school!" Halenie Shortman cried as she hugged her grandmother tighter.
"Honey! There are no lions or bad animals at school that will eat you! What makes you think that Kindergarten has mean animals that will do that?"
"Philip said so! He-he said that when we go back to school there will be mean animals waiting to eat us awive and that they'll eat me first cause I'm too weak!" She cried once more.
"Philip Miles Shortman! Come here right now!" Stella commanded.
Philip hesitantly obeyed his grandmother. "Uh…y-yes grandma? What is it? I was watching my favowite show!"
"Did you tell your sister that animals would eat her once you both go back to school?" Stella asked with a frown.
"Well…Yeah!" Philip shrugged.
"Why would you say such a thing?" Stella glared.
"It's not my fault! I just told da twuth! Gweat gwandpa and gwandpa said that school was a jungle and evewyone knows dat jungles have mean animals that eat you and stuff! And you and gwandpa can't be there to pwotect us like you tamed the lions in gweat gwandpa's acrobat story cause you won't be there to stay when they attack!" Phil explained.
"But why would they eat me first?!" Hal whined.
"Because you're the weak one! You cry all the time like a baby and they'll hear you and find you and eat you because you can't shut up!" Phil taunted.
"Enough! Phil apologize to your sister right now! That was mean!" Stella demanded.
"Fiine…Sowwy Halenie." He droned.
"Now off to the corner with you! And don't leave until you think about what you've done!" Stella reprimanded.
"Aww but my show is on!" Phil cried in protest.
"Well maybe next time you'll think before being mean to your sister!" Stella replied.
"Aw Cwiminy this bites! Specially since I didn't do anything wong! I just said what gwandpa and gweat gwandpa said!"
"I'll deal with them and what they said later. It's you being mean to your sister that got you into trouble. Now go on." Stella ordered.
Phil begrudgingly obeyed as Halenie tugged on her grandmother's dress.
"So it's not twue about da bad animals in the school jungles?" She asked innocently.
"No sweetie. That was a figure of speech…It's an expression that describes school to be busy and full like a jungle. Sometimes there are mean people that act like bad animals, but school is actually a really fun place where you learn how to read, write, count, and make friends, kind of like the stuff Aunt Phoebe taught you and what you learned like in preschool. It's where you get smarter. There aren't any actual animals that will eat you." Stella explained.
"So…I can be happy again about going to Kindergarten?" Hal asked with a smile.
"Of course you can! It's an exciting time! You'll have a lot of fun and we're all going to be there to meet your new teacher next week." Stella smiled.
"Will mommy be there too?! I miss her. I haven't seen her in fowever! She's coming with all of us too wight?" Hal asked with excitement.
Stella hesitated, knowing that she had to tell her granddaughter the truth about how her mother would be absent, but she couldn't bear to see the little girl breakdown over that once more. So after some thought, she bent down to her granddaughter's level and put a hand on her shoulder.
"You bet Sweetheart. Your mommy will be there this time. I'll make sure of it…"
With that, the little girl giggled as she ran off with new found excitement.
"Oh, Grandma will make sure of it alright…" Stella vowed with determination and grabbed her phone. She kept dialing, ignoring the voicemail greeting as she kept at it until she finally heard the line pick up.
"Heard you were back in town. Good. We need to talk about making good on that promise you made. Now." She said in an all serious-business like-and threatening tone of voice.
That night, little Halenie turned over in her bed, wiping the tears away from her eyes once more as she tried to stop crying. In her excitement about school and her mother possibly coming to see them off, she told her brother the news, only for him to scoff and say that their mother wouldn't come. He went on about how their mother was absent for their birthdays and how they only got presents from her, and sometimes talked to her on the phone if she would answer, but never got to see her. He then hesitated as he saw her starting to get upset, but continued.
"I'm sowwy Halie…but she's not coming back. You thought daddy was coming back too, but he's been gone since we were dumb old babies. Some of the kids said that he's never going to come back again because he's gone fowever. Maybe it's the same with mommy. She would have come by now, but she didn't. She's not coming…Now hush and go to sweep before gwandma catches us and you get me in twouble again!"
After she managed to conceal her cries, she fell in an uneasy sleep.
Dream Sequence
It didn't matter that she was in a meadow as beautiful as the princess shows she loved to watch, or that the flowers were bursting with colors that were brighter than her 64 pack of crayons. Little Halenie continued to think about her brother's words and eventually ended up crying into her hands once more.
"Halenie…Halenie…"
The five year old raised her head up in confusion at the soft voice that called her name.
"W-who's there?" She asked shyly with a sniff.
"Please don't cry Halie…"
"H-hey! I w-wasn't cwying…I-I just had something in my eye…that's all…" She tried to retort in a less than intimidating tone of voice.
"It's okay…I'm here now…Everything's going to be okay. You'll see…By the way, I like your bow…"
Halenie blinked in confusion at the sudden complement. "W-wait…huh?"
"I like your bow…It's pretty and it's pink…just like your pants…"