Disclaimer: Until I've got Craig Bartlett tied to a chair in the basement, I think it's safe to say that I don't own Hey, Arnold!
Song of the Angels
Part II
"The Tune of a Broken Dream"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The wind of New York City raged atop the 31st floor of that outside hotel porch. The sky was blackened with night, and gust of wind wildly tossed around the hair of the young woman leaning against the ledge and looking up to the sky. Her eyes were deep in thought on her unmoving, emotionless face. Her long blonde hair wrapped around her neck and face with each gust of chilly air, and the bottom of her dress swirled around her knees. Her feet were bare.
After standing in silence staring at the full moon with only the faint sound of honking cars and barreling trucks below her, she blinked and brought herself out of her thoughts. She stood up straight, and as she hugged herself, a determined expression came to her face. She unwrapped her arms around her cold body and held on to the thick wall of the porch ledge in front of her. Slowly but carefully, the woman hoisted herself onto the wall and clumsily lifted her legs so she sat on the wall with her legs facing toward the hotel room. She paused to take short, quickened breaths. After fidgeting-unsure whether to keep moving or not-she hesitantly turned to the side and brought her legs up to her chest. She reached her arms in front of her and leaned her weight forward onto her hands placed on the ledge. Slowly, slowly, she brought herself to her feet. Her knees trembled as they straightened. Seeing the top of the porch above her, she reached her arms up and clutched the end of the ceiling to keep her balance. Her dress blew around her more than ever, and her wind-blown hair covered her face. The woman struggled to remove a hand from the grip above her and move the hair behind her ear to free her view. For the first time, she looked below her at the red and white specks of light in uniform lines along the streets. Tiny dots of people could be seen with the aid of all the bright city lights.
Realizing how high she really was, the woman's eyes widened with fear. Her whole body shook, causing her right foot to slide off the ledge. She let out a faint yelp of panic. Before the rest of her body could fall, she shot her other hand back up to the hold she had and pulled herself back up. Tears instantly formed in thick clumps in her eyes, quickly becoming too big and falling in streams down her face, which was covered with fearful sweat. She bit her bottom lip and soon blood trickled down her mouth. The woman quickly closed her mouth from the pain and licked the lips of her cotton-dry mouth.
A million thoughts flooded her mind and intensified her terror. She stood still except for the intense shaking surging through her body as she tried to regain herself. Her hair had escaped from where she tried to put it behind her ear and once again flapped in her face. Her thoughts trailed back to what she'd been thinking of as she began; the man asleep in the room inside. She hated him; but even more so, she hated herself. No, that bast'rd wasn't why she wanted to die. Placing such a heavy burden on one reason wasn't like her. Life had just decided to deal her all the bad cards, obviously indicating she wasn't fit for the job. The job of existing. It was too hard, too painful.
She shook as she slowly removed her hands from the death grip above her. Once more, she looked at the oblivious city life below her. Going on with their lives like programmed robots with no purpose in life but to get from one place to the next. The woman's face filled once more with the same determined expression she'd had moments earlier. But now, she didn't know which direction to get off the wall. Time seemed to run like molasses and slow everything around her. The cars below slowed to a crawl, blinking lights on the vibrant city line slowed their ticking pattern, and the hair flowing around her slowed as if she were in water. To her, time had stopped. Everything was silent, and the world was waiting for her to decide. She stood with her posture a bit crooked as she kept her balance. All the honking, all the trucks, all the sounds of the busy city around her ceased. Only the sound of a gently music box quietly crept into the air. It was a haunting, nostalgic sound with each slow plunking note creeping its way into her mind. At first, it looked as if the childish song was causing her physical pain, which it almost was with the memories of her childhood coming back to life after such a long time. But then, any expression still on her face had ceased to exist and a bland state of emotionlessness enveloped her. The tune of the strange, nonexistent music box lulled the woman and suddenly she became the same, nine year old lovesick girl she'd been so many years ago. The small girl inside her that she thought she'd finally killed suddenly emerged, and even took over her body. The short, spunky girl realized where she was, and became frightened, although remained oddly calm. She brought herself back down to her knees as not to lose her balance and slowly climbed off the ledge. The small, pigtailed girl in the pink dress clenched her teeth as the cold cement of the porch froze her bare feet. She wiggled her toes and shivered in the cold air while hugging herself from the frightening ordeal. Suddenly, tears formed in the girl's eyes as an after shock of fear. Unlike the young woman she'd grown to be, the young girl inside her had such a strong, undying will to live. And before she could let out another frightened sob, the young woman returned to her normal state and let out the sob for her. She hid her face in her hands as she fell to her knees in a crumbled mess. What had she done? Suddenly, she removed her hands from her face and opened up her hands. A small, unraveled pink ribbon sat neatly in her palms. She clutched the ribbon and wrapped her arms around herself. She slowly rocked herself back and forth to calm down.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Phoebe slowly opened her eyes. Shards of broken sunlight peeked through her closed blinds and cast their morning light upon her empty bed whose sheets were still neat and untouched. Phoebe lifted her head and saw she'd still been seated at her desk. The dark room was faintly illuminated with the sunlight knocking on her blocked window as well as the desk lamp which was still on. She reached and flicked the lamp off and could feel the heat of the overused light bulb on her hand. She let out a deep sigh and got up from the wooden chair to head to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
As Phoebe sat at her kitchen table that morning, she stared blankly at the cream swirling into her black coffee as she stirred the straw around the cup in front of her. Her mind was completely enveloped in that dream. Phoebe knew exactly who that woman was, but she was still trying to believe it. Questions filled her mind about the vision. Had it really happened? Is she still okay? Who was in the bedroom? What happened after that? What happened before it? She sighed again and lifted her head from the wrist she'd been resting it on. Phoebe pushed her chair back and slouched. Her head leaned backward and she stared at the ceiling. She felt a bit overwhelmed by the dream. But as serious at it was, with a bit of willpower Phoebe managed to push the thoughts out of her mind. Phoebe closed her eyes. Helga's gone, her mind thought. She's got nothing to do with me anymore. I've got to get on with my life, just like she did.
And with that, Phoebe got up and went to get ready for work. All the while, her heart struggled in vain to contradict the uncaring she masked about Helga.
@~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~
Song of the Angels
Part II
"The Tune of a Broken Dream"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The wind of New York City raged atop the 31st floor of that outside hotel porch. The sky was blackened with night, and gust of wind wildly tossed around the hair of the young woman leaning against the ledge and looking up to the sky. Her eyes were deep in thought on her unmoving, emotionless face. Her long blonde hair wrapped around her neck and face with each gust of chilly air, and the bottom of her dress swirled around her knees. Her feet were bare.
After standing in silence staring at the full moon with only the faint sound of honking cars and barreling trucks below her, she blinked and brought herself out of her thoughts. She stood up straight, and as she hugged herself, a determined expression came to her face. She unwrapped her arms around her cold body and held on to the thick wall of the porch ledge in front of her. Slowly but carefully, the woman hoisted herself onto the wall and clumsily lifted her legs so she sat on the wall with her legs facing toward the hotel room. She paused to take short, quickened breaths. After fidgeting-unsure whether to keep moving or not-she hesitantly turned to the side and brought her legs up to her chest. She reached her arms in front of her and leaned her weight forward onto her hands placed on the ledge. Slowly, slowly, she brought herself to her feet. Her knees trembled as they straightened. Seeing the top of the porch above her, she reached her arms up and clutched the end of the ceiling to keep her balance. Her dress blew around her more than ever, and her wind-blown hair covered her face. The woman struggled to remove a hand from the grip above her and move the hair behind her ear to free her view. For the first time, she looked below her at the red and white specks of light in uniform lines along the streets. Tiny dots of people could be seen with the aid of all the bright city lights.
Realizing how high she really was, the woman's eyes widened with fear. Her whole body shook, causing her right foot to slide off the ledge. She let out a faint yelp of panic. Before the rest of her body could fall, she shot her other hand back up to the hold she had and pulled herself back up. Tears instantly formed in thick clumps in her eyes, quickly becoming too big and falling in streams down her face, which was covered with fearful sweat. She bit her bottom lip and soon blood trickled down her mouth. The woman quickly closed her mouth from the pain and licked the lips of her cotton-dry mouth.
A million thoughts flooded her mind and intensified her terror. She stood still except for the intense shaking surging through her body as she tried to regain herself. Her hair had escaped from where she tried to put it behind her ear and once again flapped in her face. Her thoughts trailed back to what she'd been thinking of as she began; the man asleep in the room inside. She hated him; but even more so, she hated herself. No, that bast'rd wasn't why she wanted to die. Placing such a heavy burden on one reason wasn't like her. Life had just decided to deal her all the bad cards, obviously indicating she wasn't fit for the job. The job of existing. It was too hard, too painful.
She shook as she slowly removed her hands from the death grip above her. Once more, she looked at the oblivious city life below her. Going on with their lives like programmed robots with no purpose in life but to get from one place to the next. The woman's face filled once more with the same determined expression she'd had moments earlier. But now, she didn't know which direction to get off the wall. Time seemed to run like molasses and slow everything around her. The cars below slowed to a crawl, blinking lights on the vibrant city line slowed their ticking pattern, and the hair flowing around her slowed as if she were in water. To her, time had stopped. Everything was silent, and the world was waiting for her to decide. She stood with her posture a bit crooked as she kept her balance. All the honking, all the trucks, all the sounds of the busy city around her ceased. Only the sound of a gently music box quietly crept into the air. It was a haunting, nostalgic sound with each slow plunking note creeping its way into her mind. At first, it looked as if the childish song was causing her physical pain, which it almost was with the memories of her childhood coming back to life after such a long time. But then, any expression still on her face had ceased to exist and a bland state of emotionlessness enveloped her. The tune of the strange, nonexistent music box lulled the woman and suddenly she became the same, nine year old lovesick girl she'd been so many years ago. The small girl inside her that she thought she'd finally killed suddenly emerged, and even took over her body. The short, spunky girl realized where she was, and became frightened, although remained oddly calm. She brought herself back down to her knees as not to lose her balance and slowly climbed off the ledge. The small, pigtailed girl in the pink dress clenched her teeth as the cold cement of the porch froze her bare feet. She wiggled her toes and shivered in the cold air while hugging herself from the frightening ordeal. Suddenly, tears formed in the girl's eyes as an after shock of fear. Unlike the young woman she'd grown to be, the young girl inside her had such a strong, undying will to live. And before she could let out another frightened sob, the young woman returned to her normal state and let out the sob for her. She hid her face in her hands as she fell to her knees in a crumbled mess. What had she done? Suddenly, she removed her hands from her face and opened up her hands. A small, unraveled pink ribbon sat neatly in her palms. She clutched the ribbon and wrapped her arms around herself. She slowly rocked herself back and forth to calm down.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Phoebe slowly opened her eyes. Shards of broken sunlight peeked through her closed blinds and cast their morning light upon her empty bed whose sheets were still neat and untouched. Phoebe lifted her head and saw she'd still been seated at her desk. The dark room was faintly illuminated with the sunlight knocking on her blocked window as well as the desk lamp which was still on. She reached and flicked the lamp off and could feel the heat of the overused light bulb on her hand. She let out a deep sigh and got up from the wooden chair to head to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
As Phoebe sat at her kitchen table that morning, she stared blankly at the cream swirling into her black coffee as she stirred the straw around the cup in front of her. Her mind was completely enveloped in that dream. Phoebe knew exactly who that woman was, but she was still trying to believe it. Questions filled her mind about the vision. Had it really happened? Is she still okay? Who was in the bedroom? What happened after that? What happened before it? She sighed again and lifted her head from the wrist she'd been resting it on. Phoebe pushed her chair back and slouched. Her head leaned backward and she stared at the ceiling. She felt a bit overwhelmed by the dream. But as serious at it was, with a bit of willpower Phoebe managed to push the thoughts out of her mind. Phoebe closed her eyes. Helga's gone, her mind thought. She's got nothing to do with me anymore. I've got to get on with my life, just like she did.
And with that, Phoebe got up and went to get ready for work. All the while, her heart struggled in vain to contradict the uncaring she masked about Helga.
@~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~
