There are two songs which inspired this particular chapter:

"The Night We Met" Lord Huron

"When the Party's Over" Billie Eilish

Like waves that ebbed with the tide, Helga watched as her fellow classmates danced with one another to the slow song playing through the speakers. The multicolored lights had ceased their bouncing around the gym like sporadic birds in favor of blue and green hues which swept across the room while keeping time with the swaying teens below.

The tall blonde found it fascinating how the teenagers clung to each other like life rafts keeping them above the waters which threatened an inevitable death. As the song wafting around her peers echoed its haunting melody, Helga couldn't help but notice how the music resembled that of a romantic ballad. Yet, to Helga's trained poetic ear, lyrics of heartbreak, betrayal and regret spoke through to her battered soul.

It was a beautiful lie, that song, with its lyrics of despair masked behind such a catchy tune.

A beautiful and fanciful lie, Helga thought silently to herself as she stood among her classmates surveying as they moved in slow motion before her very eyes.

As though in a trance, Helga's eyes remained lost on the sea of students until a familiar and cheery face broke her blind concentration and obstructed her view.

"Baby sister?" Olga's voice pulled her younger sister back to reality.

Blinking a few times in an effort to wet her dry eyes, Helga realigned her vision to that of her sister's who stood in front of her with a casual smile lining her face.

"Oh," Helga murmured. "Olga. Hi."

"Well hello to you too, silly!" she chirped back before pausing to tilt her head with a curious expression taking over her perfectly painted features. "Helga, honey, are you okay?"

Are you okay?

The words looped around endlessly inside Helga's mind as she tried to understand the question.

What was okay? What did it even mean for one to be 'okay?' Had she ever been okay? The youngest Pataki closed her eyes briefly while attempting to feel every sensation within her lanky frame. She certainly wasn't hurt, or rather, she wasn't hurt physically. The pain she felt throbbed in her brain the way the bass made the DJ's speakers vibrate from where they sat in the corner of the gymnasium. With each loud bump of the bass, those around it could feel the strong vibrations the speakers gave off, and yet, such minimal movement remained invisible to the naked eye.

As she opened her eyes to look back at her now-concerned sibling, Helga felt like one of those speakers- the bass consistently bumping in her head which made her skull feel as though it were buzzing. Like the box speakers' vibrations, nobody could see the chaos ensuing inside her mind. It was as though nobody could see her pain while Helga G. Pataki knew of it's existence because she could feel it.

If the pain she felt was not physical, that is, if her pain could not be measured, did that mean she was okay? And by the word's very definition, could such a lack of evidence from her inner turmoil mean she could indeed tell Olga that she was, as her sister had so simply put it, 'okay?'

At her sister's lack of response to her simple question, Olga reached out to touch Helga's bony shoulder. "Helga? Where's Arnold?"

The name stung Helga to her very core. As if every inch of her skin was covered in shallow cuts, the name of her beloved acted as the rubbing alcohol solution she would use to clean out the occasional scrape of her elbow or knee.

However, his name burned through her skin to the organs hiding within the shell that remained of her body. His name did not feel cleansing as it once had. Instead, it felt as though the sound of his name was destroying all she was and all she ever would or could be.

It was as if the bottle of rubbing alcohol had been mislabeled.

It was as if his very name had been sulfuric acid hidden in place of the liquid that was supposed to be contained inside.

"Ar-Ar," Helga tried to force his name passed her lips with little success. After a deep breath, she settled on the appropriate pronoun instead. "He is... he left."

Olga's eyes narrowed in on her sister as though she was trying to decipher something hidden between the few lines on Helga's face. "He left?" She questioned further. "Arnold left without you? That doesn't seem like him..."

"Not without me," Helga attempted to clarify before squeezing her eyes shut and making herself spew out what had happened with as few words as possible. "He left. He left me."

"He left you...here. At the dance?" Olga tried to clarify as she dropped her hand from the girl's shoulder almost certain that she understood exactly what her younger sister was trying to say.

"Criminy, Olga, are you stupid?" Helga snapped while leaning in and shouting the words at the eldest Pataki. "He's gone, okay? He left me as in no more us, no more together, no more relationship, no more... NOTHING! He LEFT, okay? Do you get that now or do I need to draw you a freakin' diagram?"

Stray eyes glanced in the direction of the Pataki siblings as Helga huffed from her outburst.

It was Olga, however, who was the focus of most everyone's attention as she remained still and seemingly unphased in front of the aggravated preteen. Olga stood silently while unbenownst to Helga, she actively hid the sudden pang in her chest at her sister's breaking news. Just beneath her ribs, Olga Pataki could feel her heart begin to break for her baby sister who was clearly much less than 'okay.'

After a moment, Olga took a deep breath and spoke at last. "Oh Helga," was all she could manage before she reached out once more for her shoulder.

This time however, Helga stepped back and dodged her sister's attempt at sympathy. "Don't touch me, Olga. Just... DON'T." With a shake of her head, Helga organized her thoughts quickly before speaking again. "I'm just going home, okay? I came to tell you I'm leaving."

"Okay, Helga," Olga agreed while trying to sort through what she had to do next to help her kin. "Just let me grab my purse and tell the other chaperones and then we can-"

Helga was quick to cut her off, "NO, Olga," she said loudly while holding a hand out to stop her from both speaking and coming any closer. As Olga watched her with sad eyes, Helga took a deep breath and repeated herself once more in a soft, but firm voice, "No."

"Helga, I just want to help," Olga tried, though Helga shook her head through each of her sister's words.

"You can't help, Olga," Helga told her definitively.

The words hit her like a brick to the chest and Olga struggled to hold back the tears now welling in her eyes. "But how will you get home?"

"I can walk." She spoke with a tone that was both hard and final; completely void of a single trace of emotion.

"Helga," Olga pleaded while clasping her hands in front of her chest and sniffling back her signature sob, "Helga, plea-please..."

Shaking her head once while pursing her lips, Helga sighed and looked at her sister with a blank expression. "I'll see you at home, Olga." With that, she turned on her heel to make her way towards the exit of the gym.

Watching her younger sister leave, Olga at last let the tears she'd been keeping at bay fall down her cheeks. Effortlessly, the salty tears slipped down her supple skin to make two mascara rivers which matched that of Helga's mere minutes before she had wiped them off in the bathroom.

"Helga!" Olga called out through her tears, "Helga, please!"

Yet through the loud music, teenage gossip and swarms of bodies filling the open space, Helga easily disappeared into the pandemonium of the dance without so much as a response to her sister's desperate cries in her wake.

A misty rain fell around Helga as she trudged down the sidewalk in pursuit of home. The atmosphere felt dense as the droplets of water seemed to hang in the air; effectively drenching the young blonde as she walked through it like a curtain.

She never noticed, though. Despite the chill of the wind and the rainy night she found herself alone in, the only thing Helga could focus on was that exactly- the fact that she was alone.

And try as she might, even Helga G. Pataki was powerless to fix what she had allowed to happen.

"Foolish," she spoke quietly to herself as she forced her feet to push onward down the path leading her back to her house. The broken preteen kept her gaze down to watch her feet move as if on autopilot and to break the cycle of complete disassociation, she flicked her right foot to kick a large pebble down the sidewalk with each additional step she took.

"How could I have been so, so, so," anger built up inside her body and she pulled her leg back even further to smack the pebble as hard as she could; the small rock bouncing feet ahead of her only to be lost to the distance as she shouted, "FOOLISH!"

Taking a breath, the cool air filled her lungs and acted as a numbing agent. From feeling as though she were on fire beneath her skin mere moments prior, the chilly oxygen she breathed balanced the heat within to bring about a sense of calm- numbness even.

Pausing briefly on the sidewalk, Helga turned to look back at the school from over her shoulder as the blanket of water continued to mist onto her like the misters which kept vegetables fresh at the grocery store.

Sniffling, Helga began to speak to herself once more. "Oh, Arnold, my treasured prince... my envy and jealousy has brought us to this, our most tragic of hours."

Turning her head again, Helga brought her attention to the direction in which she had to travel; words continuing to spew from her mouth with each heavy step she took.

"Perhaps such a tragedy had to befall us on this hallowed night," she suddenly said with a small shake of her head. "Perhaps it is time that I at last accept the absolute truth- that I, Helga G. Pataki am simply no good for you."

Cars drove quickly by the young Pataki; the drivers and passengers inside each dry vehicle paying no mind to the wet girl who meandered down the sidewalk so late at night. After all, despite her young appearance, she was gesturing wildly while she spoke to herself and to the average stranger, one would think she was all but crazy.

Helga didn't mind, though. In fact, Helga didn't care. The capability to care had seemingly evaporated from her body into the soggy air around her leaving the flaxen-haired preteen feeling empty, hollow and numb from where she walked and monologued simultaneously.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, really," Helga concluded as she continued on her trek. "I'm used to losing things and people of importance. Used to losing as though I ever had anything... as if I ever truly had you, my sweet, football-headed darling."

"And yet," she went on, "when we were lost in the thick, lush jungles of San Lorenzo; when I saved your parents with my heart which you claimed was more pure than I knew, I truly believed I could stop you from leaving me. With your lips pressed against mine own, I foolishly believed I could hold onto you and claim you as mine forevermore."

Tilting her head down towards the ground, Helga gave a small shake to dispute her own previous fantasies. "As if I could ever stop you from leaving..."

Accepting the words she'd told herself, Helga continued to walk as silence took the place of her own speaking. As the hustle and bustle of the city continued around her, Helga felt as though the world was quiet, despite it's obvious noise, while she walked home on her own.

Alone.

As hard as she tried, even the willful blonde could not convince herself she liked being on her own. Sure, she had always been an independent child what with having to grow up so quickly and take care of herself a vast majority of the time. Given all of these facts, Helga argued with herself that she enjoyed being alone and that a life of isolation was what she would like best.

However, Helga knew she was only lying to herself.

"Maybe I'm not the foolish one," Helga suddenly changed her tone as though trying to convince herself of a radically different notion. She began to bargain with herself. "Arnold knows me, he truly knows me; might be one of the only people who does. So perhaps it is he who is the foolish one. How completely stupid of him to think that after all of this I won't resume my torture of his wimpy and dense self!"

With a sigh, Helga frowned and shook her head again. "No," she muttered, "you may be dense, but I cannot call you stupid. All of those years of ridicule, torture and needless bullying was never because I made it so... I only ever hurt you because you allowed it. Truly, it is I who is the foolish one. Foolish for believing that I had the power... foolish for believing your ridiculous idea that I was a good person. Foolish, foolish, foolish..."

Her legs had taken her quite a ways from the school by now. As Helga made her way down the pavement, she wrapped her goose-bumped arms around one another as though holding together her body while it threatened to break apart. As she shivered with each step she took, her chattering teeth continued allowing words to pass her lips as though she could talk her heart out of total devastation.

"We could be friends though," she tried, though the words sounded unconvincing even to her who had spoken them. "Friends and yet... that would never be enough. I would long for your touch, for your kiss... I would long to be closer to you by just an inch more, a centimeter, a millimeter even... for being in your presence is the drug I crave most. The scent of your mysterious shampoo... the aura of which you give off is... is... utterly intoxicating and I..."

Her words trailed off as she caught herself once more feeding in to the lovesickness she had become so accustomed to feeling when thoughts of Arnold popped into her head. It was all too easy to be distracted by the images she conjured of the football-headed love-God behind her lids each time she closed her eyes.

Instead, she choked back the feelings which bubbled up inside her only to remain caught in her throat like a chunk of food she couldn't seem to swallow. As she walked, she struggled to find the words that would help her get over what had happened and what she had lost in the middle school's cafeteria.

Helga barely took notice to the cars that sped passed her or the waves of water from puddles that splashed up to further drench her as she walked. It was as if she had set the world on 'mute' and all that was around her remained quiet; a dulled noise to her dulled senses.

"This is fine," she whispered, though she knew she was only lying to herself. "This is how it should be anyway. I like it like this; being alone. I'd rather be alone anyway... you can't hurt somebody if they're alone."

Through her own lies, Helga tried to feel the anger she knew was dwelling somewhere deep within her soul. Anger was better than the desolate and hopeless sadness she was currently experiencing even though, the more she thought about it, she wasn't entirely sure that sadness was the emotion she was encountering at all.

The more she thought about it and analyzed the root of why she felt how she felt, she realized that it was an entirely different sensation from sadness or anger that she was feeling.

She felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"I'm... empty." The words she uttered felt flat as she said them. "Maybe that's for the best... maybe it's better to feel nothing rather than being sad, or angry or disappointed even. If I feel nothing, then I'll be fine, right? Nothing is better than something, in this case... isn't it?"

"I'm sure you feel fine," Helga stated with a minute level of acidity beneath her words. The way she spoke, it was as if Arnold was within earshot of her and she continued to speak this way in the hopes that some how, some way, he would hear her every word and feel guilty for what he had done. "I'll bet you've even made peace with this already. You said your goodbyes, you sent me on my merry way and, and..."

Sighing deeply Helga allowed her rigid spine to dip and hunched herself over like that of a wilted flower. "And alas," she continued in a defeated tone, "it is I who cannot seem to let you go. It is I who allows you to remain stuck onto me like a band-aid and though I desperately try to peel you off... it is there upon my skin that you remain."

As she approached the familiar block she'd known since birth, her feet came to a halt just yards away from the stoop leading towards the dry safety that lay within the Pataki home. She stood there, solemn and stoic as the thick mist continued to moisten the already soaked girl.

"I want to let you go, Arnold..." she said softly with a gentle shut of her eyes. Blood pumping from her heart slapped against the inside of her skull forming a migraine Helga feared she may never shake. To her, it was the punishment she rightfully deserved for the destructive behavior which had led to the events she no longer wanted to think on.

"Why is it that no matter how hard I try, you pull me back in?" Slowly, Helga opened her eyes to squint through the watery air as though Arnold Shortman himself stood just beyond the almost-rain. "Why won't you let me let you go?"

Quietly, she turned to at last walk up the cement steps leading to the bluish hue of her front door. With a sigh, she reached out for the doorknob and twisted it to yank the door open and at last leave the wet world she had braved to walk home on her own.

"Helga? Honey, is that you?" Miriam soberly called from somewhere within the house though Helga didn't bother to investigate.

"Yeah, Miriam. It's me," she answered back as she began making her way upstairs in pursuit of her room.

"Did you have fun at your little dance?" Her mother asked and Helga paused midway up the stairs to consider her answer.

After a beat, Helga sighed and choked out, "I liked it, yeah." And with the lie still wet on her lips, she continued up the stairs to disappear into her room where she could be undisturbed for the remainder of the night.

Helga flipped the journal Miles had given her open to the next blank page. As she stared at the lines that dictated where and how she should write, the muscles in her body began to tense. She could feel that something inside of her was ready to burst, and yet, another part of her was holding it back.

For the life of her, Helga could not recall another time in which she paused before acting how her feelings specified.

It was as if the inner workings of her mind were jumbled and tangled with one another. Each emotion, feeling and thought were intermingled with the others. Such a mess in her mind caused Helga to feel conflicted and confused on what words she would ultimately write down on the fresh paper looking back at her.

Slowly, she reached for the nearest pen and uncapped it before pressing the tip of the writing utensil to the paper and allowing words to be scrawled down as fast as she could think them.

Today will live on as a day I will and COULD never forget no matter how hard I tried.

Arnold ended our relationship.

Pausing to look at how the words looked once written down, Helga closed her eyes tightly as if resetting her emotional brain to continue writing once more.

To see those words staring back at me and know that they are true is something I can hardly explain. For the life of me, as I walked home in the rain that appropriately fit the theme of tonight's dance, I tried to sort out all of these thoughts and feelings I have... but I can't because it doesn't make sense to me.

I truly believed that Arnold and I were soulmates. With every fibre of my being; every atom that makes up the body I am stuck inside of while I exist on this plane of the universe... I believed that solitary fact.

And, if I'm being honest with you (since you're just some inanimate object I occasionally gush my feelings in) a part of me believes we still ARE soulmates... but the evidence against that belief is pretty damning.

Looking up from the journal, Helga stared out of her bedroom window and out to the damp world just beyond the glass. Flashes of memories danced through her head- the things Arnold had said in the cafeteria. Her conversation with Brainy on the steps in the foyer. Even the awkward moment she shared in the bathroom with Rhonda before ultimately finding Olga and walking home.

As each memory flitted across her mind, Helga pushed every single one away. It was easier to pretend they didn't exist than to confront the truth of what had taken place tonight at Hanson Middle School.

With a deep breath, Helga returned her attention to the open journal sitting in her lap and pressed the tip of the pen back to the paper ready to take in all she had to express without a single judgment.

I wish I could go back. Oh cruel fate! If I could simply return to where the trouble began; even further yet. If I could return to those thick jungles where we shared our first true kiss under the open night sky surrounded in pure bliss.

Tears began to surface at the base of Helga's vision and she fought to push them away as she had with the painful memories of the night. Unlike her thoughts, however, her tears were stronger and they spilled onto her cheeks despite Helga's determination to keep them bottled up forever.

If I could go back, perhaps I'd choose to go even further than San Lorenzo. Maybe I'd go ALL the way back- back to the day we met.

That toddler that I once was; the naive girl in the pink overalls covered in mud and rain DESERVES to know of her cursed future. If I could go back, I could warn her of the evils of love and trust and faith in other people. I'd tell her that soulmates are a sham and that falling in love isn't what it's cracked up to be.

If only my plea could reach up to the heavens. if the very Gods themselves our ancestors once worshiped or the God of today or even another higher power we know not of could hear the deepest desires within my soul... I would beg for them to grant me my chimerical wish, I would return to that fateful day on the outskirts of Urban Tots. Maybe from there I could stand a chance at fixing things.

Helga chewed on her lip for a moment before adding a final line to her entry.

Because I don't stand a chance from here.

With haste, she turned the page to the next clean sheet of paper; opting out from signing her name at the bottom of her entry to finalize it as she typically did.

Instead, Helga reached up to wipe the tears still free-falling down her face onto her still-wet arm. With a laser-focus, Helga pushed her pen to the paper once more and allowed herself to do what she has always done best- write.

And not just any kind of writing. Helga went to the first place she knew would provide her any solace.

Poetry.

To the beings of yesteryear,

to the Gods of tomorrow,

open up your sanctimonious hearts

and alleviate my most bitter sorrows

For I lack what I once had,

though perhaps never had at all,

and I'll never sleep, I'll never rest,

after answering love's deceptive call.

The moment her pen finished touching the last word it had written, she set the utensil between her teeth and stared down at the poem scrawled across the paper in a frenzy. After a moment of inspecting each word and reading it aloud silently to herself, she sighed and turned her attention to the next blank page beside it.

Taking the pen from her mouth, she dived in to the journal once more.

Though juveniles, we shared a love,

preposterous though it may seem,

but my love loved me

any imbecile could see

our relationship was not a dream

Helga paused momentarily while looking at the words staring back at her from the page and with a final shake of her head, she ripped the page out from the journal entirely. Crumpling up the paper into a tight ball, she tossed it over her shoulder before setting the pen to the fresh sheet just below.

Wide eyed youth, I saw you

your umbrella above my head

you smiled at me

I had no right to be

so veraciously misled.

Without so much as a second's pause, her pen continued to write on the page as though it were the pen itself coming up with the words rather than Helga herself.

With blinders on, I saw you

so innocent, pure and true

your words so sweet

swept me off my feet

the bully had fallen for you.

Ferociously, Helga continued to write as memories and rage filled her system to the brim. She could hardly contain the words to her mind and as she wrote faster than she ever had before, the words spilled from the lines of the page in a mish-mash of handwriting only the author herself could interpret.

Through jungle trees, I saw you

such joy lit up in your eyes

and with your kiss

I found such bliss

and the bully let down her guise

Chewing on her lip, Helga stared down the words looking up at her. As she read and re-read each line, she tried to decide just where her poem was headed. It was through the words and through each stanza that the yellow-haired preteen was discovering exactly how she felt. Through her poetry, she explored each and every emotion that had previously been hopelessly tangled inside her mind and as she began the final verse, she knew just what that feeling truly was.

Yet with clear vision now, I see you

a simple boy with an sickle-shaped head

you had seen what I could be

it was then that I could see

that this bully had indeed been misled...

In a rogue moment of understanding, she paused to read through the poem once. As her eyes scanned over the page, she sighed to herself before at last adding a rogue line she felt deserved to be a part of perhaps her most important poem to date.

But the one who misled her, was me.

The words Helga had written told a story she had previously been blind to truly understanding. As she looked down at the poem, the messy scribbles morphed into that of an almost foreign language written by someone other than herself. The poem itself was the tale of a mindless fool who couldn't be the intelligent young woman Helga clearly was.

And yet, the more she read and re-read the sloppy words, she knew that what she'd written was her truth- even if she wanted to remain blind to it.

The words were a slap to the face. She knew that truly being blind to something versus wanting to remain blind to it were two entirely different things. The former requires ignorance, something Helga didn't believe truly possessed. With the latter however, one does indeed know the truth and instead chooses to ignore it and the lessons which accompany it.

Helga knew she aligned with the latter.

The proof was in the words she had written before her very eyes. It was hard to deny her knowledge of the truth when it was so plainly put in front of her, and by her own hand at that. There was no sense in pretending what was true or not true any longer. Helga had to admit, even silently though it may be, that at least part of the downfall between Arnold and herself was her doing. She was at fault. Like many had told her, she should have trusted Arnold and believed in him the way he had always believed in her.

But...

The lone word turned Helga's mind to a rebuttal she was too easily sucked in to listening to.

At the same token, Helga couldn't help but wonder that if she should have trusted him, shouldn't he too have trusted her?

Both sides of the coin flipped around endlessly inside her mind. Just as she understood one stance, the other threw itself before her and she found that she couldn't make heads or tails of who was truly right and who had been truly in the wrong.

Part of Helga believed she had been wrong.

A stronger part believed she hadn't been the most wrong, however, and that she deserved an apology as much as Arnold, if not more so.

As she mulled over each side of the truth, Helga found her puffy eyes growing tired and laying down while still clutching her journal and pen. It wasn't long after that Helga fell into a deep sleep; her hair still damp from her venture home and still clothed in the wet dress she'd spent far too long picking out with Olga.

As she slept throughout the night, visions of Arnold fluttered through her dreams. Imaginings of his voice whispered to her from the safety of her sleep though she could never quite make out the words he was saying.

For those few slumbering hours, Helga had nearly forgotten about what had taken place at the school dance. It was only when her eyes fluttered open that she remembered which reality it was that she lived in.

Arnold had broken up with her.

For now, it seemed, their relationship could only continue through her dreamings.

And it was with that reality that Helga realized she had woken up not to her dreams, but rather to her worst nightmare.

Thank you for reading and keeping up with this story. I truly could not and probably would not continue if it wasn't for your support and reviews so THANK YOU!

With everyone either quarantined, locked down, sheltering in place and what have you, hopefully I will continue to have more time to write as I have been. Also, for those concerned this will be another breakup fic, i truly promise you that is not what this story is or will be. Craig himself has said that Arnold and Helga's relationship would be wrought with difficulties and things they had to work through, and i truly believe that as well. They ARE soulmates though, so trust that I will give you all the fluff you could ever want if you just bear with me through their adolescence.

PLEASE DROP ME A REVIEW and let me know what you think of this chapter! I would really appreciate the feedback!

Stay healthy, all!

xo

Polka