Stole: A Song-Fic
An: This is a story by me, Phebga, al by myself, for the first time! Now the stars are Briana, boys and girls! * I get to be the stars! * Anyway, this is based on Kelly Rowland's song, Stole, one of my favorites! Immediately, you know it will be kind of sad, so if you don't want to read this knowing it'll end sadly, just go away. * You do know how much you sound like Lemony Snickett, right? * So, here we go! If you know what the song is about, then there is no reason for a summary.
I don't own Stole or Kelly or Hey Arnold. I also don't own you, do I? …I hope not!
At the age of sixteen, Thaddeus's life was slightly more hectic, since everyone considered him mentally disturbed. He'd been sent to many counselors, but threw a fit and threatened to go to the lion's cage, something no one wants him to do. He had been pushed out of the social group, so he basically spent his time lying in his bed, studying, or doing something everyone else thought to be crazy. It wasn't crazy to him. To him it was just something that would be fun.
He was such a nice boy, the quiet one, with good intentions.
His mother had trouble holding up Curly, his brother, and herself all alone. He wanted to be nice to his mother, but she was a pain sometimes, trying to tell him that he needed help for his 'problems'. He tried to not be a hassle, but apparently he was. His brother was the only one who never called him crazy, which he rewarded him for by declaring him the future Supreme Ruler's Assistant.
He tried to be nice to everyone and make friends, but they thought he was insane from things he had done before. He passed his time alone reading stuff about people who could help him take over the world when he was older.
He was down for his brother, respectful to his mother, a good boy, but good don't get attention.
One kid with a promise. The brightest kid in school, he's not a fool. Reading books about science and smart stuff.
It's not enough, no. Because smart don't make you cool.
He decided to show them all that he wasn't just a weird kid who went to their school. No, he would show them all. He'd show them all…
He's not invisible anymore…with his Father's 9 and a broken fuse.
Since he walked throw that classroom door…He's all over primetime news.
He walked into school, his hand inside his large pocket, grasping something tightly. He walked into first period, drama, where his first target was. He turned into the doorway, his eyes narrow and staring at a blond girl at her desk. The best actress in school and the one who had made fun of him for as long as he could remember was sitting in her desk, reading a book before the bell rang. She'd probably become a famous actress or something when she grew up, but she wouldn't have the chance.
Yes, Helga Pataki would die today…
Mary's got the same size hands as Marilyn Monroe
Put her fingers in the imprints at Man's Chinese Theatre Show.
He pulled a loaded 38 pistol out of his pocket and aimed at Helga's pretty blond head. "Helga," he whispered, filled with a maniac's joy.
She could have been a movie star, but never had the chance to go that far.
Her life was stole, now we'll never know…
When Helga looked up from her book, Sheena yelled, "No!" It was to late.
"Curly?" He clicked the trigger. Her eyes grew wide as she yelled, "Stop!" into the blast of the deadly piece of metal that hit her full blast in the forehead. When her head hit the desk, everyone dove under theirs. That would teach them to mess with Thaddeus Curly Gamelthorpe.
She could have been a movie star, but never had the chance to go that far.
Her life was stole, now we'll never know…
Phoebe, Arnold, a boy named Chris, and Rhonda were in front of news people from all over the country, crying, Phoebe and Arnold were crying hysterically, while Sheena and Rhonda were trying to keep it silent.
"He was really kind of weird, if you know what I mean," said Rhonda quietly to people from Dateline. "That might be what drove him to it."
"How could he do this?" yelled Phoebe through her tears.
"I don't get it," Arnold said in between sobs. "I don't get it…"
"He was a plain weirdo, man, "said the jock, Chris. "He would always just walk into these parties he wasn't invited to and we'd get up on him He should have learned how to take a joke, the f***ing freak.
They were crying through the cameras, said he never fitted in.
He wasn't welcome.
He showed up to the parties we was hanging in.
Some guys were putting him down, bullying him 'round…
The kids at Hillwood High were depressed, even though they got some days off of school, wondering what would have happened if they had done something to prevent this human being from going this far.
Now I wish I had talked to him, give him the time of day
But I turned away.
If I hadn't he may have not gone this far, he might have stayed at home playing angry chords on his guitar.
All of the students that were present remember the terror, the shock, and Curly's outline walking through the hallways of a prison on television into a courtroom dressed in the orange jumpsuit, his hands and legs cuffed, and his face full of fury…
He's not invisible anymore…with his baggy pants and his legs chains!
Since he walked through that classroom door…everybody knows his name!
They all remembered Helga and her talents, her life, and how she had changed into a happy person with a future…
Mary's got the same size hands as Marilyn Monroe.
Put her fingers in the imprints at Mann's Chinese Theatre Show.
She could've been a movie star,
Never got a chance to go that far.
Her life was stole, now we'll never know.
A month later at the funeral, three coffins were resting on a long table (I've never been to one, so I don't know what they put them one). Behind them was a huge mural of the three of them, and in the background was a series of glowing clouds and different classmates' handprints. The coffin to the right was the school counselor, Ms. Syria. The one in the middle was Helga Pataki. The one on the left side was the one Arnold cried over the most, Helga being the second, even though it was a pretty even cut. Phoebe had told Arnold, but he hadn't gotten a chance to do anything that would have him love her back. The person at the end was the basketball star, with every college in the West looking at him. He had an interview with one of them that weekend. Arnold's best friend, Gerald Johansson, had been shot by the deranged, lonely Curly.
Greg was always getting net from twenty feet away.
Had a try-out with the Sixers, he couldn't wait for Saturday.
Now we're never gonna see him slam, flying high as Kobe can.
His life was stole, now we'll never know!
It was too much for anyone there to think about what would have happened if they'd had a chance…
Now we'll never know…
Mm-hm…now we'll never know…
Stole
Oh whoa whoa yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!
One by one, the principal, Helga and Gerald's family, the counselor's sister stood and said some things in honor of those lying with no air inside of those coffins, due to a young child's anger. Then Phoebe walked up and said her piece. After a moment of quiet tears, she said with an expressionless face what she had on her notes.
"Helga Pataki was my best friend, and probably the best one I'll ever have. She was a good kid when she was younger, even though not many people could see it. Later on, though, she started showing more to everyone, including me. She became interested in the Arts, writing, acting, singing, and so on…well, oh, I'm sorry. It's a sad moment. She was a wonderful friend, and maybe would have become the next hit actress in all of the movies we would be seeing. She might have been in all of the poetry books we'd read; she may have been in our CD collections. She was extremely talented. Her younger life was hard, but she was strong enough to pull through it. I hope that she is looking at us, and I know that she's wishing she'd be able to come down here and tell us to all stop crying because a student went a little over-board. But she can't. But I'll remember her forever.
"That is all I have to say. Thank you." She walked down from the podium and began to cry hysterically. She ran out of the room.
Mary's got the same size hands as Marilyn Monroe
Put her fingers in the imprints at Mann's Chinese Theatre Show.
She could've been a movie star, but never had the chance to go that far.
Her life was stole, stole, now we'll never know…
Arnold looked back at the parking lot to watch Phoebe run into her car but not leave. It was his turn.
He stood up silently, feeling that if he gave anything more he'd break out in tears. But he had to pay his respects to his classmates, especially his best friend and the one who'd loved him…
"Um, hello. My name is Arnold, and I was Gerald's best friend. When we were kids, we were inseparable, as some people put it. He would stick by me through everything that happened to either of us. We'd make schemes, play baseball with the rest of our friends, and go on all sorts of little 'adventures'. He was always into sports, and he ruled at basketball. Half of the county wanted him for their college sports' teams. I'm just sorry that he never was able to finish up his dream. Curly, the one who caused all of this is behind bars, waiting for a sentence. He was lonely and depressed. But that is no exception for taking three innocent people's lives. Gerald had a big future; because of him being set and happy, he was killed by a sad and uncertain boy. The same goes for Helga, here. She was a nice girl, but her life was taken also. I didn't know Ms. Syria that well, but I feel bad for her, too. All I have to say now is that I will remember these victims forever, until I die. Gerald. Sorry you couldn't have gone into that big Sixers court like you wanted to. But I'll see you on the other side, man."
Greg was always getting net from 20 feet away.
Had a try-out with the Sixers, couldn't wait for Saturday!
Now we're never gonna see him slam, flying high as Kobe can.
His life was stole, stole, now we'll never know.
He pulled a basketball, a copy of the last play Helga performed in, and a rose from under the podium. He placed the ball next to Gerald's coffin, the script next to Helga's, and the rose by Ms. Syria's.
"Thank you," he said, as he walked back down to his chair.
Oh, no, no, no.
Yeah, their lives were stole.
Now we'll never know…
Stole…
I was listening to Angel by Amanda Perez, and it was soooo sad, so I was really sad when I was typing this and the song. Listen to it, cuz its good! *Phebga, look over there! * O, yeah. Well, I hope you liked my first self-written story! I think it was sad, but it was supposed to be…to bad I had to make Curly like that, but who else could it be? Well, I'm falling in love with someone else now…~Looks lovingly at a picture of her crush~ *Ahem…* O, well, I hope you all liked it! Review!
^^Phebga MFM^^ * ~~Briana LFBH~~ *