******Sorry folks, not much more babble here today. I dunno whats
wrong wif me. but hopefully the insanity shall return soon. Some really
dumb things: Michael Johnson is the greatest athlete since sliced bread!
Campbelle's chicken noodle soap (delicious) 69 cents a can! Woohoo! ******
******disclaimer: Once apon a time, long long ago. ok, maybe last week. I WOKE UP!!! WOOHOO!!!! And, well, to make a long story even longer, I found out I don't own a thing, ive been living a lie, and Santa Claus doesn't exist!!! *cries* ******
It's a HA! Movie Sequel! Ch 2
Summer was finally over, and school began once more. Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class was no more- they were now Mr. Simmons' fifth grade class. Another "special" year with "Granola-Boy" Simmons. Oh joy.
Of course, when you thought about it, it made sense that Mr. Simmons would be teaching them again. Oddly enough, despite his timid demeanor and "special" teaching methods, he was the only teacher able to control that group of students.
Mr. Simmons walked into his new classroom on the first day, beaming and excited to see all of his old students again.
"Good morning, class!" he greeted them, clasping his hands together in front of him, "It's so great to see you again!" his voice cracked and he sniffled. The kids looked around, was he going to cry?
Their emotional teacher cleared his throat and picked up the clip board that was on his desk, "I'm going to take roll now." he said, "Arnold?"
"Here."
"Brainy?"
"Uh. here."
"Harold?"
"HERE!"
"Phoebe?"
"Present."
He went through the J's, K's, L's M's..
"Helga?"
No response.
Arnold looked up, where was Helga?
Phoebe then raised her hand, "Mr. Simmons, Helga is-"
"-Right here." came a voice from the doorway. Everyone looked to see Helga, standing there. She scowled at them, "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Simmons, I-"
"-You're late!" Mr. Simmons announced happily as he hugged her. Everyone laughed as Helga struggled to escape the teacher's grasp. After a couple more seconds, he released her, "Yes, well, it's nice to see you again!" he grinned and sent her to an empty seat.
Arnold didn't laugh. He was only watching Helga as she walked, stiffly, to her seat, looking quite uncomfortable. It was kind of funny, but Arnold was too distracted to see the humor in the situation. He wondered what Helga was thinking. It was strange because, he had never really taken the time to wonder what Helga was thinking before and wasn't very sure why he was thinking it now. Maybe he wanted to know more about her? But why did he even care? He hadn't before. What if Gerald was right...maybe he did love Helga....
Arnold shook his head, in effort to clear his thoughts. No. What was he thinking? He did NOT love Helga. Gerald didn't know anything, he was just messing with him, right? Right.
It had only been a couple of weeks since Arnold had told Gerald about his problem, and he had made no progress since then. He still couldn't get Helga out of his mind, he still couldn't make the feelings go away. He hoped they would soon.
Again, his eyes went back to Helga. She seemed different. She stared at Mr. Simmons as he spoke, her eyes half open. She looked bored. It was as though Helga wasn't there, like her mind were somewhere else.. Before, in the fourth grade, he could look back and see Helga either writing something, doodling, talking to Phoebe or getting ready to pelt him with spit wads. But she rarely looked at the teacher while he was speaking. Now she did nothing at all. There wasn't even anything on her desk. Nothing to write with and nothing she could throw at Arnold. Something was definitely wrong.
And yet he waited. He kept waiting, expecting, anticipating the impact of a spit wad hitting him on the back of the head. For the first time in his life, he WANTED her to do it. He wanted to know that she knew he existed. He wanted her to notice him, to pay attention to him... he wanted Helga to at least look at him. Call him Footballhead, yell at him, threaten him, pound him, trip him, push him, do SOMETHING! Just don't leave him sitting there, worried, wondering, waiting. Oh god, he was going insane.
No one else seemed to notice that anything was wrong.
"Man, Helga hasn't bothered us all day! This could be the start of a great year."
"You notice that Helga hasn't said done anything all day? It's as though she's finally grown up a little! About time."
"I reckon we got off lucky taday, Helga ain't picked on any of us, not even Arnold."
Phoebe remained silent. She seemed to be the only one besides Arnold to be worried about Helga.
While Arnold was reeling in tortured feelings, worried about Helga, and on the verge of asking Wolfgang to beat him up, Phoebe tried to speak to her best friend.
She found Helga sitting on the blacktop, her legs crossed, as she stared at the poorly drawn white hopscotch squares, as though she were in a trance. Phoebe sat down beside her.
"Helga?"
She turned around, "Yes?" she said in a dull monotone. Her expression was lifeless, she seemed to have lost her soul.
"Helga, are you alright?"
"Yes." again, no feeling at all.
Phoebe was scared. What was wrong with Helga? Wait... she had seen this before... when Helga had tried to stop loving "ice cream". She had stopped caring, stopped feeling altogether. That must have been it! It must have something to do with Arnold.
"Does this have anything to do with... 'ice cream'?" she asked.
Helga looked at her and for the first time that day, she showed some emotion. And it was sad. "Yes." she said, trying to maintain that monotonousness (******lool, is that a word?******).
"What happened?"
"I... told him."
"You TOLD him?" Phoebe repeated in disbelief. She had never thought that Helga would actually TELL Arnold, "What happened?" she knew it couldn't have gone well, or Helga wouldn't have been acting that way.
"I told him. I told him everything." her voice became softer, sadder. She sounded like she was going to cry.
"And then what happened?" Phoebe hated to torture Helga like this, but it had to be done in order for her to understand.
"He- He didn't believe me. I told him my deepest, darkest secret, and he DIDN'T BELIEVE ME. 'I'm confused, did you just tell say you love me?' He didn't get it!" Helga was getting louder and louder.
Phoebe just stared. She knew Arnold was dense but, man, how dense could you get?
"And then I denied it all! If he doesn't believe me..." she stopped and shut her eyes for a moment.
"If he doesn't believe you then what?"
"If he doesn't believe me, if he doesn't care, then what's the point?" Helga whispered.
What's the point? WHAT'S THE POINT? The point is, you love him! He's the only thing that has kept you going for most of your life. He's the only thing you ever cared about. And now you say, WHAT'S THE POINT? Phoebe wanted to slap some sense into Helga, but she was afraid it might hurt her even more than it would help.
"Helga..."
"Leave me alone, Phoebe. I'm of no use to anyone." Helga waved her best friend away and went back to sitting on the blacktop.
It was no use. Helga was gone.
******Well, theres chapper 2. Ya I know, in a movie you usually wouldn't know what the characters are thinking, but, too bad. In mine you know. So, Hashanah******
*****Sorry im still not in the mood for insanity. I need some inspiration. Hmm. *goes off in search of a SLURPEE* ******
******Review please, or I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish (heh, grinchyness)!!!! ******
******disclaimer: Once apon a time, long long ago. ok, maybe last week. I WOKE UP!!! WOOHOO!!!! And, well, to make a long story even longer, I found out I don't own a thing, ive been living a lie, and Santa Claus doesn't exist!!! *cries* ******
It's a HA! Movie Sequel! Ch 2
Summer was finally over, and school began once more. Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class was no more- they were now Mr. Simmons' fifth grade class. Another "special" year with "Granola-Boy" Simmons. Oh joy.
Of course, when you thought about it, it made sense that Mr. Simmons would be teaching them again. Oddly enough, despite his timid demeanor and "special" teaching methods, he was the only teacher able to control that group of students.
Mr. Simmons walked into his new classroom on the first day, beaming and excited to see all of his old students again.
"Good morning, class!" he greeted them, clasping his hands together in front of him, "It's so great to see you again!" his voice cracked and he sniffled. The kids looked around, was he going to cry?
Their emotional teacher cleared his throat and picked up the clip board that was on his desk, "I'm going to take roll now." he said, "Arnold?"
"Here."
"Brainy?"
"Uh. here."
"Harold?"
"HERE!"
"Phoebe?"
"Present."
He went through the J's, K's, L's M's..
"Helga?"
No response.
Arnold looked up, where was Helga?
Phoebe then raised her hand, "Mr. Simmons, Helga is-"
"-Right here." came a voice from the doorway. Everyone looked to see Helga, standing there. She scowled at them, "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Simmons, I-"
"-You're late!" Mr. Simmons announced happily as he hugged her. Everyone laughed as Helga struggled to escape the teacher's grasp. After a couple more seconds, he released her, "Yes, well, it's nice to see you again!" he grinned and sent her to an empty seat.
Arnold didn't laugh. He was only watching Helga as she walked, stiffly, to her seat, looking quite uncomfortable. It was kind of funny, but Arnold was too distracted to see the humor in the situation. He wondered what Helga was thinking. It was strange because, he had never really taken the time to wonder what Helga was thinking before and wasn't very sure why he was thinking it now. Maybe he wanted to know more about her? But why did he even care? He hadn't before. What if Gerald was right...maybe he did love Helga....
Arnold shook his head, in effort to clear his thoughts. No. What was he thinking? He did NOT love Helga. Gerald didn't know anything, he was just messing with him, right? Right.
It had only been a couple of weeks since Arnold had told Gerald about his problem, and he had made no progress since then. He still couldn't get Helga out of his mind, he still couldn't make the feelings go away. He hoped they would soon.
Again, his eyes went back to Helga. She seemed different. She stared at Mr. Simmons as he spoke, her eyes half open. She looked bored. It was as though Helga wasn't there, like her mind were somewhere else.. Before, in the fourth grade, he could look back and see Helga either writing something, doodling, talking to Phoebe or getting ready to pelt him with spit wads. But she rarely looked at the teacher while he was speaking. Now she did nothing at all. There wasn't even anything on her desk. Nothing to write with and nothing she could throw at Arnold. Something was definitely wrong.
And yet he waited. He kept waiting, expecting, anticipating the impact of a spit wad hitting him on the back of the head. For the first time in his life, he WANTED her to do it. He wanted to know that she knew he existed. He wanted her to notice him, to pay attention to him... he wanted Helga to at least look at him. Call him Footballhead, yell at him, threaten him, pound him, trip him, push him, do SOMETHING! Just don't leave him sitting there, worried, wondering, waiting. Oh god, he was going insane.
No one else seemed to notice that anything was wrong.
"Man, Helga hasn't bothered us all day! This could be the start of a great year."
"You notice that Helga hasn't said done anything all day? It's as though she's finally grown up a little! About time."
"I reckon we got off lucky taday, Helga ain't picked on any of us, not even Arnold."
Phoebe remained silent. She seemed to be the only one besides Arnold to be worried about Helga.
While Arnold was reeling in tortured feelings, worried about Helga, and on the verge of asking Wolfgang to beat him up, Phoebe tried to speak to her best friend.
She found Helga sitting on the blacktop, her legs crossed, as she stared at the poorly drawn white hopscotch squares, as though she were in a trance. Phoebe sat down beside her.
"Helga?"
She turned around, "Yes?" she said in a dull monotone. Her expression was lifeless, she seemed to have lost her soul.
"Helga, are you alright?"
"Yes." again, no feeling at all.
Phoebe was scared. What was wrong with Helga? Wait... she had seen this before... when Helga had tried to stop loving "ice cream". She had stopped caring, stopped feeling altogether. That must have been it! It must have something to do with Arnold.
"Does this have anything to do with... 'ice cream'?" she asked.
Helga looked at her and for the first time that day, she showed some emotion. And it was sad. "Yes." she said, trying to maintain that monotonousness (******lool, is that a word?******).
"What happened?"
"I... told him."
"You TOLD him?" Phoebe repeated in disbelief. She had never thought that Helga would actually TELL Arnold, "What happened?" she knew it couldn't have gone well, or Helga wouldn't have been acting that way.
"I told him. I told him everything." her voice became softer, sadder. She sounded like she was going to cry.
"And then what happened?" Phoebe hated to torture Helga like this, but it had to be done in order for her to understand.
"He- He didn't believe me. I told him my deepest, darkest secret, and he DIDN'T BELIEVE ME. 'I'm confused, did you just tell say you love me?' He didn't get it!" Helga was getting louder and louder.
Phoebe just stared. She knew Arnold was dense but, man, how dense could you get?
"And then I denied it all! If he doesn't believe me..." she stopped and shut her eyes for a moment.
"If he doesn't believe you then what?"
"If he doesn't believe me, if he doesn't care, then what's the point?" Helga whispered.
What's the point? WHAT'S THE POINT? The point is, you love him! He's the only thing that has kept you going for most of your life. He's the only thing you ever cared about. And now you say, WHAT'S THE POINT? Phoebe wanted to slap some sense into Helga, but she was afraid it might hurt her even more than it would help.
"Helga..."
"Leave me alone, Phoebe. I'm of no use to anyone." Helga waved her best friend away and went back to sitting on the blacktop.
It was no use. Helga was gone.
******Well, theres chapper 2. Ya I know, in a movie you usually wouldn't know what the characters are thinking, but, too bad. In mine you know. So, Hashanah******
*****Sorry im still not in the mood for insanity. I need some inspiration. Hmm. *goes off in search of a SLURPEE* ******
******Review please, or I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish (heh, grinchyness)!!!! ******