Author's Note: Be grateful, gang. I'm updating within a half hour of my
last update. Well, it's a very short chapter. But he only had one piece
of paper! Blame that jerk Eddie for not giving him enough paper to write
on, not me.
Disclaimer: Once again, Hey Arnold is, sadly, not mine. Which is probably a good thing…it'd all be sappy Helga/Arnold episodes all the time. And Chocolate Boy. I love Chocolate Boy. He so rocks my world. So does Dino Spumoni. In fact, all of the characters rock (even Lila, in measured amounts) except Sid. Sid bites. (Sorry, Sid fans, but he's such a jerk. I can't stand him.) I'm really chatty tonight, aren't I?
Part XI
"Letter"
Dear Helga,
I only have a page to write this on, so I have to try and make this succinct. It's hard, because there's a lot I want to say, that I won't be able to say to you after this, even though I wish I could, and there are no rough drafts. I have to say it just right the first time, so here goes.
God, Helga, I'm scared. I don't want to die. It's not the actual dying that I'm scared of—I've been through enough pain, physical and emotional, that that holds no fear for me. And afterwards…well, if there's anything afterwards, I'm sure my parents will be there.
What I'm afraid of isn't dying, it's not being alive anymore. You should know by now that I love life, everything about it. And I love people. I guess I might have seemed a little cynical before, and there are some people like Niles who aren't exactly fine, upstanding citizens, but people…people are great. Love them, Helga, because they need someone to. Love everyone you meet. There's good everywhere, and there's beauty and magic inside everything. I truly believe that. I always have. "Despite everything, I still think that people are truly good at heart." Anne Frank said that. I think she was right. And look what they did to her!
But anyway, I need to tell you what I tried to tell you before, what I should've told you, what I should've told you a long time ago, but I didn't know. I told you I had your first couple of books, right? Well, I had two copies of each, actually. I had the "good" copies that I kept at home, and then I had the copies I took with me, the ones that were dog eared from going on expeditions and being read every night. I have collections of articles on you, tapes of your appearances—your early ones, at least. Everything I could find. I guess I was one of your biggest fans.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're going to die. Maybe I'm not close enough to the end for that to happen, but it did happen to me once before. You know when? Do you remember that flood we had at school in fourth grade? When you fell out the window, my life flashed before your eyes—and it was full of spitballs. Really, though, that was the greatest fear I'd ever felt, more than when I was mugged, more than being stuck in that roller coaster or on the haunted train, more than this, right now. I was afraid I'd lose you. You, my tormentor, my persecutor, my cross to bear. But it was the most frightening thing I'd ever experienced.
I guess even then it was there. I just was too young to realize it. I mean, I fell for girls like Ruth McDougal and Lila and that girl Summer that year at the beach (Remember her? The one you saved me from?). And you were always just kind of there, picking on me, shooting spitballs from the back row, scribbling away in little pink notebooks and keeping all these secrets that I don't think even Phoebe knew the half of. And you were awkward and petty and cruel and dishonest and vindictive and I don't know what else.
And I loved you, even then.
I always have. I always will. I can't explain it. It's beyond my power to understand, let alone express. But there was always something there, always something stronger than I was, drawing me to you.
That's the cruelest blow, I guess. I was resigned to my fate, I think, until you came in. And suddenly I was seeing orange blossoms, church bells, you in white, flowers in your hair…and it all got taken away. I don't want to leave you, Helga. I never did. And maybe you think it's cruel that I'm telling you all this when you can have nothing from it. Maybe you want nothing from it. But I just wanted to say that I loved you.
And I want you to know that wherever you go, I'll be with you, Helga. I'll never leave you, no matter what. I want you to go on with your life. I know that you'll be free again soon. You're too strong to bow down to this. And I want you to live and be happy; to marry and have children and a brilliant career…or not, as you see fit. To do whatever will make you complete. Because there were always these pieces to you, these missing puzzle pieces.
And I want you to find them. Call your parents. Call Phoebe. Go home to Brooklyn. Find your missing pieces. I'll be there to help you, I promise.
I love you more than you can ever know.
-Arnold
What'd you think? Yes, I know…it was short. But once again, Eddie's fault. Not mine. It's gonna get exciting and chock full o' action in the next chapter, I promise.
Disclaimer: Once again, Hey Arnold is, sadly, not mine. Which is probably a good thing…it'd all be sappy Helga/Arnold episodes all the time. And Chocolate Boy. I love Chocolate Boy. He so rocks my world. So does Dino Spumoni. In fact, all of the characters rock (even Lila, in measured amounts) except Sid. Sid bites. (Sorry, Sid fans, but he's such a jerk. I can't stand him.) I'm really chatty tonight, aren't I?
Part XI
"Letter"
Dear Helga,
I only have a page to write this on, so I have to try and make this succinct. It's hard, because there's a lot I want to say, that I won't be able to say to you after this, even though I wish I could, and there are no rough drafts. I have to say it just right the first time, so here goes.
God, Helga, I'm scared. I don't want to die. It's not the actual dying that I'm scared of—I've been through enough pain, physical and emotional, that that holds no fear for me. And afterwards…well, if there's anything afterwards, I'm sure my parents will be there.
What I'm afraid of isn't dying, it's not being alive anymore. You should know by now that I love life, everything about it. And I love people. I guess I might have seemed a little cynical before, and there are some people like Niles who aren't exactly fine, upstanding citizens, but people…people are great. Love them, Helga, because they need someone to. Love everyone you meet. There's good everywhere, and there's beauty and magic inside everything. I truly believe that. I always have. "Despite everything, I still think that people are truly good at heart." Anne Frank said that. I think she was right. And look what they did to her!
But anyway, I need to tell you what I tried to tell you before, what I should've told you, what I should've told you a long time ago, but I didn't know. I told you I had your first couple of books, right? Well, I had two copies of each, actually. I had the "good" copies that I kept at home, and then I had the copies I took with me, the ones that were dog eared from going on expeditions and being read every night. I have collections of articles on you, tapes of your appearances—your early ones, at least. Everything I could find. I guess I was one of your biggest fans.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're going to die. Maybe I'm not close enough to the end for that to happen, but it did happen to me once before. You know when? Do you remember that flood we had at school in fourth grade? When you fell out the window, my life flashed before your eyes—and it was full of spitballs. Really, though, that was the greatest fear I'd ever felt, more than when I was mugged, more than being stuck in that roller coaster or on the haunted train, more than this, right now. I was afraid I'd lose you. You, my tormentor, my persecutor, my cross to bear. But it was the most frightening thing I'd ever experienced.
I guess even then it was there. I just was too young to realize it. I mean, I fell for girls like Ruth McDougal and Lila and that girl Summer that year at the beach (Remember her? The one you saved me from?). And you were always just kind of there, picking on me, shooting spitballs from the back row, scribbling away in little pink notebooks and keeping all these secrets that I don't think even Phoebe knew the half of. And you were awkward and petty and cruel and dishonest and vindictive and I don't know what else.
And I loved you, even then.
I always have. I always will. I can't explain it. It's beyond my power to understand, let alone express. But there was always something there, always something stronger than I was, drawing me to you.
That's the cruelest blow, I guess. I was resigned to my fate, I think, until you came in. And suddenly I was seeing orange blossoms, church bells, you in white, flowers in your hair…and it all got taken away. I don't want to leave you, Helga. I never did. And maybe you think it's cruel that I'm telling you all this when you can have nothing from it. Maybe you want nothing from it. But I just wanted to say that I loved you.
And I want you to know that wherever you go, I'll be with you, Helga. I'll never leave you, no matter what. I want you to go on with your life. I know that you'll be free again soon. You're too strong to bow down to this. And I want you to live and be happy; to marry and have children and a brilliant career…or not, as you see fit. To do whatever will make you complete. Because there were always these pieces to you, these missing puzzle pieces.
And I want you to find them. Call your parents. Call Phoebe. Go home to Brooklyn. Find your missing pieces. I'll be there to help you, I promise.
I love you more than you can ever know.
-Arnold
What'd you think? Yes, I know…it was short. But once again, Eddie's fault. Not mine. It's gonna get exciting and chock full o' action in the next chapter, I promise.