Prepare to be humored-Arnold has strangely similar thoughts as Helga. If you compare Chapters 4 and 5, the endings are oddly alike in many ways. I suppose I did that on purpose-but honestly, I don't really think about what I'm writing when I'm doing it. I sort of fall into character, and forget that it's just a story and that I'm not that character. So anyway, read on, and enjoy! This chapter is from Arnold's POV…I think we all needed to get inside his football head a little.
Chapter 5
It was the first day of school, and I was standing outside, searching through the kids to find someone I recognized. I found several students from PS118 gathered in a group, separate from the others. Still too shy to move on, I suppose.
I joined my old friends and scanned their faces. Yes, I knew who they were. The majority of the old gang was there, chatting away about whatever.
Helga still hadn't come back. I don't know why, but every year I found myself searching for her, and finding only disappointment. I wanted Helga to be there, to fill that missing whole I always felt. Nothing was quite the same without her. No one would ever admit this, but it changed them.
I miss Helga. I'm not going to deny it. I liked her, in some weird, strange, freaky way. Disturbing, really, but I knew that Helga wasn't so bad deep down. Once she'd even told me she thought I was okay, and since then, I've thought she was pretty okay, too.
And yet it was still so odd that I found myself looking for her every year on the first day of school. That hope that would linger all throughout the day, the hope that she would burst into the room at the last minute. But every year it was the same. Helga wasn't there.
Gerald doesn't know who I am anymore. He thinks I'm crazy and I should just forget about it. I noticed his stare as I looked among the faces, scanning the head of every kid that stood outside the school that morning.
I saw him roll his eyes and shake his head. "That is one sick boy," he commented.
Gerald and I are still best friends. We've both changed a bit, but mostly we're still the same as we've always been. Now Phoebe…ever since Helga left, she's been either alone or with me and Gerald.
Gerald is still confused as to why she's still upset that Helga left, but I don't think he knows her the way Phoebe does. Every now and then he'll speak his mind and Phoebe will just say, in a disturbed, upset, and oddly angry tone, "You didn't know her like I did, okay?"
And she'd hang on that for a while, looking like she wanted to say more, but then she'd close her mouth and walk away, silent.
I always wonder what it is she wants to say afterwards, but I never bring myself to ask her. I get the feeling she wouldn't tell me, anyway. Every time she says this, she'll glance at me, and it sends a chill down my spine. She would do this quickly, discretely, so that only she and I would notice.
Phoebe hasn't heard from Helga in years. She wrote her for a while, but soon her letters would wane, until finally they came to a complete halt. Helga never left an address on the envelope, so Phoebe nor anyone else could ever contact her.
Helga's parents like to pretend they never had another daughter. Whenever I knock on their door, trying to get some sort of connection with Helga, her father will answer and upon seeing me, slam the door in my face.
Phoebe has tried this, also, with strangely similar results. Although, when Phoebe does it, she at least is invited in, but when she asks about Helga they either ignore the comment, or kick her out.
Eventually we've both given up trying. There's really nothing else we can do. I cling to the hope that one day, she'll come back. That one day I'll finally see her again, and our little group will be complete. An odd bunch, maybe, but without her it's like an important piece to the puzzle is missing.
Lila moved away in the fifth grade. But for some reason, I really didn't mind as much as I should have. I wasn't immensely devastated or anything. Sometime between summer and fall I'd gotten over her. I know she's not the one for me, and unlike most 9-year-olds, I already knew who "the one" was.
Well, sort of. Okay, I didn't know "who" she was, but I've met her and gotten to know her, and that's all I really need to know. She had posed as Cecile, my French pen pal, and set up a date with me. I later found out she wasn't the real Cecile when who showed up but the original. She said she couldn't tell me who she was, and basically ran away, leaving me clueless.
And because of that I've decided I'm not going to get romantically involved with girls. None of them seem to hold my interest anymore, anyway. I mean, I'll occasionally glance or flirt, but they just aren't what I'm looking for. I suppose I'll never know who the Cecile imposture was, but it's nice to think about.
Funny that I should still think about that now, five years later. She's probably long gone. Like Helga.
I sighed and hung my head, giving up. Maybe I should just throw in the towel. Helga's not coming back and that's all there is to it. Anyway, she's probably forgotten all about me by now. Probably hasn't even thought about me since she got there, except maybe happy to be away from me.
Sometimes I wonder what she's doing. What her hobbies are, who her friends are, what her GPA is… I don't know why I bother thinking about it, I'll never find out. I just have to face it--Helga's never coming back, and that's all there is to it. That's the way it is.
Chapter 5
It was the first day of school, and I was standing outside, searching through the kids to find someone I recognized. I found several students from PS118 gathered in a group, separate from the others. Still too shy to move on, I suppose.
I joined my old friends and scanned their faces. Yes, I knew who they were. The majority of the old gang was there, chatting away about whatever.
Helga still hadn't come back. I don't know why, but every year I found myself searching for her, and finding only disappointment. I wanted Helga to be there, to fill that missing whole I always felt. Nothing was quite the same without her. No one would ever admit this, but it changed them.
I miss Helga. I'm not going to deny it. I liked her, in some weird, strange, freaky way. Disturbing, really, but I knew that Helga wasn't so bad deep down. Once she'd even told me she thought I was okay, and since then, I've thought she was pretty okay, too.
And yet it was still so odd that I found myself looking for her every year on the first day of school. That hope that would linger all throughout the day, the hope that she would burst into the room at the last minute. But every year it was the same. Helga wasn't there.
Gerald doesn't know who I am anymore. He thinks I'm crazy and I should just forget about it. I noticed his stare as I looked among the faces, scanning the head of every kid that stood outside the school that morning.
I saw him roll his eyes and shake his head. "That is one sick boy," he commented.
Gerald and I are still best friends. We've both changed a bit, but mostly we're still the same as we've always been. Now Phoebe…ever since Helga left, she's been either alone or with me and Gerald.
Gerald is still confused as to why she's still upset that Helga left, but I don't think he knows her the way Phoebe does. Every now and then he'll speak his mind and Phoebe will just say, in a disturbed, upset, and oddly angry tone, "You didn't know her like I did, okay?"
And she'd hang on that for a while, looking like she wanted to say more, but then she'd close her mouth and walk away, silent.
I always wonder what it is she wants to say afterwards, but I never bring myself to ask her. I get the feeling she wouldn't tell me, anyway. Every time she says this, she'll glance at me, and it sends a chill down my spine. She would do this quickly, discretely, so that only she and I would notice.
Phoebe hasn't heard from Helga in years. She wrote her for a while, but soon her letters would wane, until finally they came to a complete halt. Helga never left an address on the envelope, so Phoebe nor anyone else could ever contact her.
Helga's parents like to pretend they never had another daughter. Whenever I knock on their door, trying to get some sort of connection with Helga, her father will answer and upon seeing me, slam the door in my face.
Phoebe has tried this, also, with strangely similar results. Although, when Phoebe does it, she at least is invited in, but when she asks about Helga they either ignore the comment, or kick her out.
Eventually we've both given up trying. There's really nothing else we can do. I cling to the hope that one day, she'll come back. That one day I'll finally see her again, and our little group will be complete. An odd bunch, maybe, but without her it's like an important piece to the puzzle is missing.
Lila moved away in the fifth grade. But for some reason, I really didn't mind as much as I should have. I wasn't immensely devastated or anything. Sometime between summer and fall I'd gotten over her. I know she's not the one for me, and unlike most 9-year-olds, I already knew who "the one" was.
Well, sort of. Okay, I didn't know "who" she was, but I've met her and gotten to know her, and that's all I really need to know. She had posed as Cecile, my French pen pal, and set up a date with me. I later found out she wasn't the real Cecile when who showed up but the original. She said she couldn't tell me who she was, and basically ran away, leaving me clueless.
And because of that I've decided I'm not going to get romantically involved with girls. None of them seem to hold my interest anymore, anyway. I mean, I'll occasionally glance or flirt, but they just aren't what I'm looking for. I suppose I'll never know who the Cecile imposture was, but it's nice to think about.
Funny that I should still think about that now, five years later. She's probably long gone. Like Helga.
I sighed and hung my head, giving up. Maybe I should just throw in the towel. Helga's not coming back and that's all there is to it. Anyway, she's probably forgotten all about me by now. Probably hasn't even thought about me since she got there, except maybe happy to be away from me.
Sometimes I wonder what she's doing. What her hobbies are, who her friends are, what her GPA is… I don't know why I bother thinking about it, I'll never find out. I just have to face it--Helga's never coming back, and that's all there is to it. That's the way it is.