This one I wrote, after reading three dark-fics in a row. It's centered on Helga(of course), and rather sad.

Disclaimer: Sigh, all to Craig Bartlett. Me own nothing.

Reviews: If you please..

Archive: Yes, just, you know, drop me a note.

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Where no one can see me

So here I lie.

In the darkness of my room, where no one can see me.

That's when I finally let my tears flow freely, to wash away all the pain, and hurt, and sadness, and despair, I keep bottled up inside me all through the day.

I cry, sobs whack my body, even as I feel my throath thightening with each supressed whimper.

They think I don't feel, don't care, but I do.

I hear every rude comment, every name they dub me with, I can see their uncaring eyes, feel their repulse, taste their hatred.

Sometimes, when it's too much, I use the slightest excuse to start a fight, to hurt somebody else, in exchange for my own pain.

And then I feel better, for a while.

But the feeling never lasts, and once I get home, even the happiest of days turns into a turmoil of neglect, despise, and regret.

I do not belong here, but neither do I belong to the world outside, never mind, how much I try to pretend.

So here I lie.

And I cry.

And tomorrow, I will wake up again to be the bully of P.S.118, shoving, and stomping, and frowning, and snarling. 

Because Helga G. Pataki doesn't cry.

Except in the darkness of my room, where no one can see me.

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