I DO NOT OWN HEY ARNOLD!!! DON'T SUE ME!!! (I don't have any money anyway so you wouldn't get much out of it if you did)
Return To Innocence
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Out of breath and exhausted, I finally stop running. I must be at least a few blocks from Charlie's house. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself, then turn to look in the direction I was just running from. I try to slowly process the reason for my sudden dash and find that nothing really makes sense. Charlie's room, his father's… Helga's weird and out of character behavior. Nothing. None of it makes sense. Guilt threatens to overtake me as I realize that in the rush of everything I left Helga behind… behind in that house… that horrible house. I continue to stare back, contemplating whether or not I should go back for her. I should, I know I should… but I can't. I can't make myself even take one step back in that direction. I feel helpless and selfish and… ashamed.
"Hey, man," I hear, coming from behind me.
Maybe forgetting about it is best?
Maybe Gerald showing up is some sort of heaven-sent distraction?
"…hey," I say, and fully turn toward him. I take another deep breath, hoping on some level that he doesn't notice I have been running.
He tilts his head for a second, as if to examine me, "You been to Charlie's lately?" he asks and returns to normal.
Oh, I could laugh out loud at that seemingly innocent question! Yes, yes I've been to Charlie's! If he only knew…
"Yeah, I should be th-" suddenly a perfectly genius plan pops into my head, "Say, do you want to come with? I'm going over there right now."
"I don't know, man… that kid's… he's… weird. I don't know if it's such a good idea to actually go over to his house, you know?" he says, looking away.
"Please?" I beg my friend.
"I don't know…"
"Come on, I'll be there. Nothing bad will happen," I pause, what did I mean by that? "…or anything like that. Please?!" I plead.
He sighs loudly, showing me that he's agreeing but also showing me his obvious distaste about his decision. "Fine… but you owe me."
"I know, I know, thanks!" I say, gratefully.
"No, I really mean it. YOU OWE ME, man," he stresses, jokingly.
Somehow, no matter what horrific things I will have to face ahead of me… having Gerald there always makes me feel just a bit more courageous, yet just a bit more scared… go figure…
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The door, we find, is still left wide open. The house seems to look even more abandoned and off limits now. The door being wide open, I thought, would make the house more inviting when in fact, it's just makes it seem that much more forbidden.
"Wow, this family must not be too scared about robbery," Gerald tries to joke, "Shall we just step in, or ring the door bell?" to this he bursts out laughing, but I can't join in. I know more that he does, which makes it harder for me to find anything funny about the subject.
"Just step in," I say, distantly. I walk into house, wait for him to follow me, then close the door quietly. I then walk quickly to the stairs, alone. When I realize I had forgotten about Gerald I turn to his direction and find him staring at the interior of the house.
"You've got to be kidding…" he says, looking around, "This place is a dump!"
"I know," I say quickly, "Come on, we gotta go upstairs." Gerald nods and begins to walk in the direction of the stairs. I follow him with my eyes, making sure he doesn't go wandering into some forbidden part of the house as I did. Gerald can be distracted easily and can be just as curious as I. I fear, somehow, that Gerald might get caught up in this disturbing Charlie thing and it would be my fault. I couldn't do that to him.
Walking up the stairs, I find it harder and harder to take the next step. I should have stayed with Gerald outside. I shouldn't have come back. I turn back to look at my friend, who's now looking at the walls, inspecting it's dirtiness just as I did, and something catches my eye. Down at the bottom of the stairs is Charlie's dad. He looks at me… evilly? Would I go so far as to say he's evil? His expression is one I recognize from Helga… anger, with a touch of annoyance. I turn and walk quickly up the rest of the stairs and almost race to Charlie's door. The only comfort I have now is that Charlie's dad can no longer watch me. "Slow down there, Speedy." Gerald says as he finally catches up to me at Charlie's door. He doesn't seem to realize his almost encounter with the father and for a second I begin to think I imagined the whole thing.
"Sorry," I say, regretfully, and turn the doorknob to Charlie's room.
"What took you so long!?" Helga says, baring that familiar expression.
"N-nothing," I say weakly. I walk into the room and Gerald follows behind me. I close the door slowly, cautiously, and walk over with Gerald to where Charlie sat on the floor.
"What's tall hair boy doing here?" Helga asks, standing up from the bed and walking over towards us.
"He's-" I start, but Charlie's door opens quickly and all our heads snap back to see who the visitor is. There, in the doorway, stands… yes, Charlie's father. Is he following me? Panic rushes through me and I, for a moment, contemplate running back through the doorway, down the stairs, and out of the house again.
"What is it?" Charlie roughly asks his father.
"I came… to talk to you." he says, laughing mid-way through… a sadistic smile playing across his grotesque features.
"Not now." Charlie states. He turns from his father. I can see that in the corner of my eye, too deathly afraid, myself, to turn away from the madman at the door even just to look at Charlie. "Leave, Dad." Charlie says, almost in a mocking tone.
The chemistry is clearly not right between this father and son. It's as if they're not related at all… Charlie speaks as if he's reprimanding a child… no respect at all in his demeanor… and somehow that seems just to me.
"No, I want to talk." The father persists. Gerald and I reluctantly walk over to the bed and sit down. Helga looks to us and follows slowly. My attention is placed back up at the father as I realize something. He's staring at Helga… looking at her in a way that… sickens me. It really does. As if in slow motion, I look from the man to the object of his attention, walking slowly towards Gerald and I… apparently unaware of how violated she's being.
I see his eyes looking…
watching…
as she walks… his gaze following up her legs, slowly, taking it all in. it's the first time in a long time that I actually notice what she's wearing. She looks almost like the little girl from P.S. 118 today, clad in a pink skirt and a white, almost oversized, t-shirt.
He looks still… following the shapeliness of her hips… which I now come to realize are not those of a 9 year old. Wait, does this man realize she's only 14? Does he, I ask? Or perhaps the more disturbing question is…
Is he looking at her because she's 14?
His eyes…
Those disgusting eyes… still following her form… looking now at the more definitively feminine parts of her. Why won't he look away? Is he doing this to spite me? Yes, that must be it! Wait, no… how could he know this is making me upset? Am I looking physically uncomfortable? No… wait…
Why is he looking at her like that in the first place? I can feel my heart beating faster now… anger… anger rising up in this quiet boy I usually am. A startling thought pops into my head. What if something happened yesterday? What if he hurt her? That would surely explain his suggestive gaze, would it not? No, no… I refuse to except that.
My thoughts are going a mile a minute as I see that Helga has sat down next to me… as I see the father still looking at her that way… Helga has to notice this, right? For a moment, I once again fear that I have imagined it all. No, I definitely know I haven't imagined it.
I look to the father again and see he hasn't averted his gaze yet…
Stop looking at her….
Please stop looking at her…
Stop it…
Stop it…
"Stop it!" I scream, unintentionally. The other four people in the room look at me as if I'm insane. Am I? I regret such an outburst, but as I look to the father I realize he's now gazing at the floor, looking ashamed. Is he? I look closer and see he's stifling a laugh… he is… a madman. He's crazy, I know it.
"Stop what?" Gerald asks, raising a brow.
"What do you want?" Charlie speaks up again, a bit more forcefully this time. I silently thank him for saving me from an embarrassing explanation.
The father looks from the floor to his son. Suddenly, he's featureless, his expression is one of stark seriousness. He says, flatly, "take out the trash." and with that, looks to Helga, then to me, then retreats through the door and slams it.
"Please… excuse his behavior," Charlie says, slowly, quietly.
"Uh… no problem." Gerald replies, apparently speaking to Charlie for the first time. Gerald gets off the bed and walks over to him, holding out his hand. "I'm Gerald,"
"Charlie," he says, then shakes the hand of my best friend. As confident as Gerald tries to be, I know he's a little shaken up about what just happened. I look over to Helga, who meets my gaze. She half-smiles. Is that a thank you? Did she really notice what was going on? Is she thankful I stopped it? Perhaps all of this is too much to ask, but still… it makes me happy to know she's grateful for something…
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Lol, actually Snow Lane you ARE the reason I updated. See, like I said, I got really busy and didn't have time to write and I also sort of started to forget about it and such… then I saw your review and thought, "ok, I've GOT to start writing this thing again," and well, I did. Thanks for finally getting me back on track again ;)
Oh yeah, so can you guys see why I said the rating will have to change soon? The material is going to get more adult so… once again, you are warned…