Hey Arnold Quote of the Chapter:

Arnold: Who were you talking to, Grandma?

Grandma: Oh just Eleanor Roosevelt, dear. But she was called away on official White House business and jumped out the window.

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Chapter 2 - Little Black Bottle

You heard me Helga Pataki! I hate you!

Helga couldn't seem to get those words out of her head. The image of him yelling it still vivid in her memory. He looked so angry; she could tell he really meant it. It shocked Helga that he could feel that way about her. I mean, all she did was pick on him, right?

I hate you… I hate you… I hate you…

A tear falls from Helga's cheek before she could wipe it away. It lands on the alleyway cement, turning the spot where it landed from a light gray to a darker shade of gray. Helga's eyes look upwards to the heavens, which are covered conveniently with dark, menacing clouds.

Who do you think you're kidding Helga? For the last five years all you've done is pick on him endlessly. Five years! Did you really expect that he wouldn't do something like what he did eventually?

Helga just shakes her head in frustration, confused. But this is Arnold we're talking about here. He's never blown up at someone like that before…

This time Helga catches the tear before the world even saw it, as if it never happened. He's been bottling it up all this time… because of me…

Let's face it. Arnold will never like Helga G. Pataki! As a friend or otherwise! A scowl quickly forms on her face. Fine! If that's what he wants, he'll never see her again!

Helga silently reveals her golden heart locket from under her shirt. She stares Arnold's picture for a long moment, a sense of finality settles in her stomach. With look of determination on her face, Helga stands up and walks out from the shadows of the secluded alleyway. She knows exactly what she needs to do.

Helga G. Pataki will be no more…

~~~~~

The bells on the door ring loudly as Helga walks into the store.

"Be right with you Mrs. Jones. I'm in the middle of making your anti-aging potion right now." says a woman's voice in the back room.

Helga smirks and slides her pink and white backpack from her back onto the floor. "What yuts are you conning now Blanche?"

A woman dressed like a gypsy pokes her head out the back room doorway, then smiles. "Ah! Helga! My favorite customer! Be right with you dear." Her head disappears from view again and seconds later there's a poof sound. A sheer purple smoke rolls slowly through the doorway.

Madam Blanche emerges from the smoke, coughing, waving it from her face with her hand. "And she wonders why I don't make this stuff much." She leans on the counter and looks at Helga. "So Helga, what can I do you for? The usual?"

Helga smirks again, "You sound like a bartender when you say it like that you know?" Her face grows serious. "And no. I need something different this time."

Madam Blanche raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

"I need a potion for a new personality."

The woman frowns, "No."

Helga's jaw drops, "What? You mean that out of all the junk you sell to those saps out there you can't make something like that?!"

"I never said I couldn't make it." Helga's face brightens. "It's just too dangerous."

Helga's jaw drops again, "But why?!"

"Do you know the story of Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde?"

"Yeah, we just started reading it in class. Why?"

"Because Dr. Jekyll really did change into a different person. Mister Edward Hyde."

Helga's jaw drops again, "I thought he wasn't real!"

Madam Blanche shakes her head, "No. Henry Jekyll was real. But everyone thought it was just a story." Her eyes narrow at Helga. "He was a doctor Helga, and a scientist. And he ended up killing himself." She crosses her arms. "What makes you think you could control it?"

"Because I have a reason!" Helga snarls. "I have a purpose! And I won't let it get in my way!" she slams her palm on the counter. "My 'ice cream' is at stake here! He is my reason! I promise I won't kill myself." She slides her palm forward on the counter and lifts up her hand, revealing several bills. "I'm willing to pay interest. All I need is a temporary potion."

Madam Blanche looks down at the money, then back up at Helga. The here eyes are pleading desperately. "And this is all for 'ice cream'?"

Helga nods deeply, "Yes. It is."

"Hmm…" Madam Blanche struggles. Helga is the strongest willed person she has ever met. Maybe Helga has what it takes to keep this thing under control. And Helga is willing to do anything for this boy, so he must be worst it. The woman sighs slowly, then shakes her head. In the end this was Helga's decision, not hers to make. She holds up two fingers. "Two weeks."

Helga beams, "Two weeks."

"That's it. That's all I'm going to sell you."

Helga nods her head excitedly. "Yes. That's fine."

"But I have to warn you Helga, this stuff is addictive. You sure you can stop when you need to?"

Helga nods again, but deeply this time. "Yes. I can."

Blanche looks at Helga for a moment, then turns and disappears into her back room. She soon reemerges carrying a black, crystal-like bottle with a crystal stopper. She places it on the counter. "Take one teaspoon for six hours. Take it only after you've changed back."

Helga grins, "Gotcha." She grabs the bottle and carefully places it inside her backpack.

"And Helga?"

Helga looks back up at Madam Blanche. "Yeah?"

"When you take it, you might experience some… discomfort."

"No prob." Helga slings her backpack over her shoulder, already running out the door. A faint "Thanks Madam Blanche!" sounds right before the door's bells.

The gypsy woman frowns, crossing her arms. She sighs after a long moment, then shakes her head. She really hoped this guy is worth it.

~~~~~

Helga quickly shuts her bedroom door behind her, gasping for air. Letting her backpack fall off her shoulders, she slides to the floor. The shortcut through the park had saved her some time, but she was still exhausted.

Her eyes wander around her room while catching her breath. If you didn't know it was Helga's, you would think that the girl was very feminine. From the ruffles on her curtains to her sheets on her bed, everything was pink, her favorite color. And the only one that will ever know that is Phoebe, ever.

When she does catch her breath she unzips her backpack to retrieve the black bottle. She turns it in her hand, studying it. Soon the realization slowly sinks in that this is her answer. This is her answer to all her problems

She is sick and tired of her life, to put it mildly. Big Bob yells at her everyday, she gets compared to Olga constantly, and Miriam… well, let's just not go there.

At school its worse, it that's possible. The only recognition or respect she gets is because of her bulling, the other fourth graders talk behind her back, and the only friend she has is Phoebe, her sidekick and minion.

But the last straw was that her beloved, her Arnold, hated her. He said so himself. Twice.

A pain pings through her heart at that thought.

The bottom line was she didn't want to be Helga Pataki anymore. She wants to be herself and not be known as the biggest bully at PS 118. She wants to be the girl she knows is buried somewhere inside herself. She wants to be the girl Arnold will fall in love with.

She looks down at the bottle again, knowing she held her answer. Now is the time.

Well, let's do this.

She walks downstairs into the kitchen, where Miriam was knocked out cold. She's drooling on the counter, an empty smoothie glass in her hand, snoring loudly. Helga rolls her eyes and opens the silverware drawer, picking up a spoon. She walks back up the stairs, closing the door softly behind her, shutting out Miriam's snores.

She swiftly opens her closet door and pushes back the clothes, revealing a ladder. She climbs it into the attic and the image of her latest shrine comes into view.

It has changed since the bear shrine. It now resembled more of a scarecrow. It had a football for its head, a rainbow of feathers for its hair, and its eyes were two green jelly beans, stuck to the football with chewed bubble gum that was chewed by Arnold himself.

The football was mounted on brushless broomsticks and had clothes similar to Arnold's covers the sticks. Scattered around it were dozens of unlit candles. And as a last minute thought, she had strung a locket similar to hers on the scarecrow-like statue's neck, her own picture inside it. To Helga it symbolizes her wish for the future.

Helga kneels on the floor and sighs. "Oh Arnold my love. Did you really mean what you said? Do you really despise me enough to cast me from your warm company to the cold nothingness of my soul?" Her eyes look up at the likeness of Arnold. "Though I have tormented you for so long, my football headed love god, you have utterly destroyed my very essence in three words."

She uncaps the crystal stopper from the black bottle. Tilting the bottle, a bubbling green concoction slowly pours onto the spoon. Helga grimaces at the smell.

"Well, here it goes. Bottoms up." She then puts the spoon her mouth and drinks the potion. When she drinks it all she closes her eyes in anticipation.

Several longs moments tick by as Helga waits for the change. She opens her eyes slowly, "What? I'm still me? What the heck happened?" Helga faces changes into a scowl. "Blanche gypped me!"

Then a powerful pain shot throughout her body, immediately curling Helga's body into a ball. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes a pain beyond description courses through every vain. It was so intense that it couldn't be compared to anything else. Though if you asked Helga herself, she would say that it felt like her insides were being scraped away all at once by a dull knife.

And when Helga thinks that it would never go away, it stops.