This chapter has a theme song. That theme song is:
"Wrong" by: Ally Hills

The world feels different now, journal.

I spend every waking moment dreaming of him. When I walk the halls, it's as though I am in a heavy, thick fog. It envelops me, surrounds me and consumes me from the inside out. The only way to avoid it is to push it away from me every second of every minute of every hour that passes by.

And pushing it away is exhausting.

I get so tired of walking with this new traveling companion of mine. It's the feeling of utter despair that has hitched a ride on my shoulders; the weight of it constantly dragging me down with each movement I make.

Every step is anguish.

Every step is misery.

Yet, I am forced to march a long my merry way. Like a slow dirge, I wander through the halls as though I'm part of some funeral procession that is also for me at the same time... it's as though I'm both the mourners and the corpse trapped inside the casket.

I just keep focusing on what used to be.

I keep re-living the best parts of our relationship as though they were a drug I've developed a habit for. The moments I replay hold this sort of high for me which I try desperately to cling on to even though it slips away each and every time like sand between the spaces of my fingers.

And no matter how many times I go over the highlights we shared together, it never satiates the craving for him that lives inside of me.

I've become obsessed in a way I never have been before- I've become obsessed with how we used to love.

I guess that's all there is left to stalk... There's no sense in resuming the pining I once indulged in before we were together because I know what it felt like. There's no use imagining how our relationship would proceed as I've already seen it happen.

You can't stalk in a graveyard because every potential victim is already dead.

So I linger.

Like a phantom, I linger by the fence surrounding the mausoleum where our love was laid to rest. Through it, I peek between the cracks to get a glimpse of the world which passes me by while I continue to live my life in vain. Longingly, I stare out at what lays just beyond the fence, and yet, stubbornly I remain trapped with my feet stuck in a history doomed to never repeat itself.

I don't know. These days the only thing I can write is this flowery kind of metaphorical crap. I guess the folks who make teen drama shows were right when they coined the phrase, 'teenage angst' because there really is nothing angstier than drowning in ones own sorrows at the hand of a lost love.

And that's pretty much all I do these days.

Anyway, it's like midnight so I should probably get some sleep for another exciting day full of mindless monotony with the masses.

Guess I'll just write in you later or something.

If I can find anything worthwhile to write about, that is.

~Helga

PS: I thought I would commemorate this new brooding-teenager-thing I've got going on by changing to a simpler way of signing off an entry. I think it's both understated as well as very telling which fits that old-school kind of quiet elegance which is a BIG MOOD these days.

Journal,

Today in the middle of math class I was thinking about some of the things Arnold had said during our little chat the other day on the stairs.

Basically, after an entire hour of deliberately ignoring my teacher's lesson, I had this thought that might explain at least ONE of the reasons why Arnold and I fell apart.

He doesn't understand me.

Like UNDERSTAND understand me.

Sure, he gets that I'm a good person and I have feelings and all that junk, but he doesn't really get the extent of the reasons WHY I do what I do. It's like there's this core person inside of me that nobody can really get to because it's, well, INSIDE of me.

You see, deep in the recesses of Helga G. Pataki is... just Helga. And 'Just Helga' is covered in all of these scars from incidents passed that can never be fully healed no matter how long ago the wound was initially made. Arnold may have known the existence of this inner self and maybe even at times caught a glimpse of her in passing... but even so... he could never understand her completely because the 'Just Arnold' that lives within him doesn't have the same kind, or as many, scars as the 'Just Helga' that lives within me has.

It would make it impossible for him to every truly UNDERSTAND.

And it's not like we were together long enough for him to have ever really broken (or scratched the surface of, for that matter) where my 'Just Helga' resides.

All in all, it's pretty much just another of the many excuses I've made up in my mind for why Arnold chose to give up on our love. He may say that it was for a greater good, but I'm still pretty unconvinced.

So there's that.

~Helga

I'M LOVING A GHOST.

I'M LIVING WITH MEMORIES THAT HAUNT ME SO BADLY THAT I CAN'T EVEN SLEEP IF MY LIFE DEPENDED ON IT!

I mean honestly, for cripes sake Helga, it's 2 AM GO TO BED ALREADY!

But I just can't do it. I keep tossing and turning and then getting up to sit in the quiet of my closet while staring at the shrine that I should have probably gotten rid of by now.

And I cry

and cry

and cry

and CRY like the freakin' dam in my brain has just burst and a flood of water pours out from my sockets in this pathetic, soggy MESS.

That's what I am.

A pathetic

SOGGY

MESS just like my sister.

Guess that part must run in the family, huh?

And my locket... my new one that Arnold gave me the first Christmas we shared together... somehow I always find myself drawn to the latest place I've hidden it in the hope that I'll wise up and stop retrieving it.

But I ALWAYS DO.

And then I sit there on the floor of my closet and just STARE at those two-dimensional emerald eyes that look back at me lifelessly through the glass.

One of these days, you'd think that I'd just be done with it all, wouldn't you? I mean, it's been nearly 3 weeks since we broke-up and I haven't had the amazing 'epiphany' yet that signals the oncoming of a new era in one's life.

Instead, I just get to keep feeling things I don't want to feel and doing things I don't want to do all for the sake of satiating the need to survive that's hardwired in my brain.

Oh well.

Guess that's life for ya, isn't it?

~Helga

I have loved him for the last time.

These memories, these mental videos, replay in my mind on an endless loop;

the old laughter

and stale love

but haunting reminders that I am forced to watch

with bloodshot eyes

and shrieking screams.

As if I were a Banshee,

my voice hoarsens from each desperate plea I give away

all while holding on to the foolish hope

that my futile cries could somehow free me from enduring this grueling torture;

a torture that I, and I alone

am inflicting upon myself.

For in this game, I play both judge and jury

as well as executioner

and while I stare out onto the faces of my countless victims

it is just one pair of eyes that look back at me-

my own.

(I don't know. I wrote this in homeroom today and even though it's kind of clunky, I thought it was at least good enough to copy onto a page in here. Someday I'll get around to compiling all of my loose poetry into my latest volume but, you know, depression is a beast that is never satisfied AKA life sucks and I never feel like doing it so that's my 'excuse du jour.')

Hey Journal,

I got a quick thought that I feel like jotting down before I start my homework:

You ever think that Arnold was just being a little... rash when he broke up with me? Like, maybe if we had another month or say a YEAR even, we could have figured everything out.

Probably not, but it's worth wondering.

Or maybe it isn't. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous in focusing on this, the most minuscule and stupid thing I could possibly put my attention towards.

I'll let you decide.

~Helga

Okay, so the clock says it's 4am and I am currently writing under a flashlight but that's not why I'm writing so that doesn't matter.

What MATTERS is the dream I just had and I'm afraid if I don't write it all down, I won't remember a SINGLE BIT of it in the morning and then I won't embrace the message that I think my inner self was trying to tell me.

I was in this room, right? It was a big and fancy sort of room that you usually find in mansions with intricate woodwork and whatnot everywhere. EVERYTHING around me was white- the walls, decorations, floor, just EVERYTHING... except for me.

I stood dead center in this room but it was like I was watching myself from above rather than seeing everything from my own eyes. From my birds-eye view I could see that I was wearing the red dress I wore for the school dance.

But I didn't look how I looked before the school dance... I looked similar to how I looked after my walk home in the rain. I was completely haggard; my hair in messy tendrils while my makeup looked as though it was practically melting off of my face.

And I was crying.

From the middle of that room where I was completely alone, I sobbed uncontrollably and without an end in sight.

That's when the dream got kind of weird.

It was almost like Alice in wonderland when she was a giant and crying huge tears that filled up the room. With every sob I emitted my tears collected into pools on the floor until the room itself began flooding, though I never seemed to notice.

I just stood there and kept crying without so much as a moment to catch my breath.

It wasn't until my tears flooded so entirely and I was floating closer to the ceiling of the inescapable space that I began to realize the predicament I had put myself in. And yet, aware though I was, I couldn't stop crying and the room just continued to flood until it was completely filled to the brim with my hot and salty tears.

And I was trapped.

I felt this inevitable sort of doom closing in on me as I realized that I would drown but my dream counterpart seemed smarter than that. While trapped under the sea she'd created, the Helga I watched from above began to swim towards the floor of the room.

With each stroke forward and with each inch closer to where the floor should be, I watched as she swam into a seemingly endless abyss; the light escaping the both of us as she continued to dive further and further into the darkness.

And then suddenly, it was as though the camera I was watching my dream through flipped around and I was on the other side of some brightly lit world in my own bathroom, no less. Right in front of where I watched was our bathtub, filled to the brim with water and just as I questioned why my dream had brought me there, 'Dream Helga' popped out from the water.

It was then that I suddenly realized the Helga which emerged from the water wasn't the Helga I had just watched swim into the depths of her own tears. This one looked older and wasn't wearing the red dress from the dance.

The Helga huffing and puffing from the bathtub wore these darker clothes that Rhonda herself would probably describe as 'grungy vintage chic' or something weird like that. From above, I watched as she pushed herself up to stand. Rather than a dress, this dream version of myself donned ripped jeans that fit her like a glove. Despite being soaking wet, she also wore a cap atop her head and as she stepped out of the tub completely, her black converse squeaked on the bathroom tile.

This Helga, the one who had surfaced from the waters of the bathtub, was unlike any other Helga I had imagined for myself.

Yet as I looked passed the change in wardrobe, it was her eyes that captivated me most. While there was this sense of hurt behind them, there was also this confidence I had never seen in myself when I'd looked at my own reflection in the mirror before.

It was as though the hurt inside of her was what propelled her forward and while the inner scars still remained, this Helga embraced it.

Then, just as she turned around and looked up in the direction of where I had been watching from above– almost like she could SEE me –I woke up.

I think that this dream version of me was trying to tell me something; something that I need to hear and actually follow through with if I'm ever going to either A) get over Arnold completely or B) win him back.

I need to start over.

That's right. I need to reinvent myself... I need to wash away the piece of me that I left behind at the school dance in the cafeteria. If I don't, I'll just continue to feed into the sorrow and wallow in it until I drown in my misery and self-hatred.

The only way to get out of this funk is to dive into it and pull myself back out a whole new person- a new and improved version of myself who isn't trying to wear pink every day to prove I'm this girly-girl which I'm clearly not and have never been.

Maybe it's time that I embrace the hurt I harbor inside of me. If I embrace it for all it's worth, if I can just learn to love all of the broken pieces floating around within me, then maybe I can become that self-actualized person Arnold insinuated I need to be for us to work out and start dating again.

More mature.

More ready.

More prepared both mentally and spiritually for the kind of relationship I so DESPERATELY want with one Arnold P. Shortman.

I'd better get back to sleep, but I'm so psyched up right now that I just want to do so many things.

First off, I want to throw away my shrine- there's no point in continuing to worship somebody else when I SHOULD be worshiping myself and all of the things that I could be if I just tried. I want to get rid of the countless journals full of pining and unrequited love so I can write new ones that are even better than anything I've written before.

And I want to get rid of my lockets.

Plural.

As in both the one I had back in San Lorenzo as well as the one Arnold gave me on the first Christmas we spent together.

I WANT to... but I don't think that I'm quite strong enough yet to do that... But I CAN stop dragging the locket around 24/7 like some kind of weirdo. I can bring notebooks with me instead (not this journal obviously cause it's just too personal to lug around all the time) and write in them as ideas come to me. I can focus on my writing and becoming a better writer and an overall better ME.

In order to let go of this past, I have to be ready to fully embrace my future. And to fully embrace that future, I need a new look to signify the end of an era- the end of pink bows that match my pants...

No Helga. Don't feed in to that memory. Don't feed in to that football-head whom you've wasted enough of your time trying to be perfect for. If Arnold is EVER going to love me– and I mean REALLY love me –I have to show him the real me.

Whoever THAT is.

The only problem is that to DO this, I have to find somebody who is ALSO willing to embrace this new Helga and support her no matter what I end up looking like on the other side. And frankly, I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready to go to the only person I know who has both the money and unconditional love I need to support such a life-altering change of persona.

But I need to reinvent myself and to do that the way I want, I have to get an entirely new wardrobe to match. Out with the old and in with the new.

So... I guess that means tomorrow I get to call Olga and beg her to come back to Hillwood (even though she just left for her home miles away a few days after she chaperoned the ill-fated school dance). Then, when she ultimately says yes (and I KNOW she'll say yes because I'M the one asking her) I'll convince her to take me shopping.

Criminy... A shopping trip. With OLGA.

What am I getting myself INTO?

~Helga

"Oh I've just had the most wonderful day with you today, baby sister!" Olga squealed as the pair of Pataki siblings unloaded the many bags filled with pieces to the puzzle of Helga's new wardrobe.

"Yeah it actually wasn't half bad," The youngest replied with a small smile.

She was telling the truth- it hadn't been as painful as she had initially thought a shopping trip with Olga would be. Despite the fact that the new clothing Helga had picked out was much darker and less frilly than her older sister would have chosen, Olga was incredibly supportive.

I've been through many a break-up, Helga and a new image is just the thing to help ones heart move on, Olga had proudly said when Helga had first asked her to return to Hillwood. The eldest Pataki understood the need to express oneself. Not only did she recognize her needs, she also knew that the pair's parents weren't going to provide her baby sister with what she so desired.

After all, Helga had been wearing Olga's hand-me-downs ever since she was a baby. What was to stop her parents from continuing the tradition until Helga could afford clothes herself?

With all of that in mind, Olga tried to be as helpful as possible. Once she got a good feel of the style Helga was going for, she ventured out and began helping to pick out clothing and accessories that the preteen never would have thought to put together on her own.

Between the two of them, they had found countless outfits at various boutiques and thrift stores around town. With nearly twenty bags of clothing, Helga could feel the anticipation building within her with each step she grew closer towards her room. She couldn't hardly wait another second living in the clothing of a Helga long gone.

She was ready for the change that her new clothing would bring her. Helga was evolving; her metamorphosis nearly at was just a couple of things left for her to do.

And unfortunately for Olga Pataki, these were things that Helga had to do without her presence, no matter how eager she may be.

"I promise I'll be ready in time for dinner if you just give me from now until then to be alone for a while," Helga pleaded once all of the bags were safely inside of her room.

Shifting her weight from one leg to another, Olga sighed while giving her younger sister a sad and disappointed look. "Are you sure that I can't help you, Helga? I have plenty of experience with mourning the loss of love."

Raising her brow, Helga crossed her arms over her chest. "Somebody broke your heart? And here I thought you did all the dumping," she remarked before dropping her arms to her sides and shaking her head as if the motion would erase the detour her thoughts were taking. "And anyway you helped enough already. I-I-"

"Don't worry about it," Olga said softly as her frown perked itself up with each word that surpassed her lips. Then, with a wink, she spoke with a renewed sense of joy. "I'm honored you asked for my help."

For a split-second, Helga felt a twinge of guilt that she had initially only chosen her sister because she knew how desperate the eldest Pataki was to share a relationship with her 'dear baby sister.' However, with their afternoon of shopping having gone so well, Helga wondered if she might not mind spending more time with her in the future.

Despite her desire to squash any feeling of contentment thanks to Olga, she reminded herself to embrace the new her. Maybe his 'New-and-Improved Helga' had a better relationship with her once arch-nemesis. In fact, the more she thought about it, she hoped that there were a lot of differences between the 'New-and-Improved Helga' and the Helga of the past.

After all, that was sort of what she was going for; a new look to preface the newest chapter in the book which was her life.

"I guess I'll leave you to it then," Olga stated once she sensed her time had come to allow Helga her privacy. "You'll let me know if you need anything else?"

Nodding her head, Helga smiled. "Oh trust me, I should be good for a while. That is... unless you're taking me up on my idea for that pink streak in my hair?" The young blonde wiggled her brow with a hopeful grin.

"Helga..." she replied firmly and tried to hold a stern look towards the preteen who stood before her. But no matter how badly she wanted to maintain her authority, Olga ended up sighing and offering a compromise. "Maybe if you come stay with me over the summer in the city we can talk about it..."

"A bribe, huh?" Helga challenged with a slight narrow of her eyes. Planting her hands on her hips, she shrugged her shoulders with a knowing upturn of her lips. "I don't know if it's worth my entire summer..."

"Only two months..." Olga countered before making her way towards the bedroom's exit. "Just one month? Oh, Helga, won't you even consider spending some time with your Big Sis?"

Helga sucked in a lung-ful of air and held it for a second before slowly letting it out. "If I say I'll think about it will you leave so I can finish that thing I gotta do?"

Olga smiled a toothy grin before nodding her head, "I'll take it!" With that, she turned around to leave the bedroom at last, though she paused just as she was to close the door behind her. "Dinner's at six, no excuses little missy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Helga waved her sibling off before at last being left alone to her own devices.

As soon as the door clicked signaling to Helga that her door was truly shut, she turned around to survey the cluster of bags filled with things to put away.

"Welp," Helga said to herself with a lone nod of her head, "time to get to work."

And boy, was it work.

First Helga had to go through her closet and remove nearly all of the clothing it held and put it into the box Olga had given her before they'd even left to go shopping. It was her one condition that Helga donate all of her old clothes to a local charity, otherwise she wouldn't pay for the new wardrobe.

After ridding her closet of the countless pink outfits Helga had amassed and hand-me-downs that she hardly wore, the next step was replacing the now-empty hangers with all of the new outfits Olga had bought.

That is, all outfits with the exception of one.

Precariously, Helga pulled out one of the graphic tee's along with a thrift store flannel with she rolled the sleeves up on. In addition to these, she also kept a pair of black jeans out and even placed one of the choker necklaces Olga had chosen for her with the ensemble.

Once each new item of clothing was placed in its proper home, Helga returned to the outfit she'd laid out. As she reached out to touch the fabric of each piece, she sighed to herself. "I have to do this," she said softly to the ghosts of her past which haunted her every waking moment. "If I don't, I'll never get that life I've wanted with Arnold... There will never be another kiss, another hug, another hand reaching out for mine..."

For a moment, Helga closed her eyes and allowed herself to yet again indulge in the memories of what once was- a life that no longer existed. With each memory that flitted through her mind, a stir of emotions grew agitated inside of her. As though a tornado were brewing within her, a deeply seeded feeling injected itself into her bloodstream and adrenaline began to freely flow through her veins.

This feeling, the feeling which Helga at last identified, was rage- complete and total rage.

Opening her eyes, a new sense of power evoked from her soul; her once glossed over eyes suddenly igniting with the flame of determination to at last rid herself of who she had once been.

She was no longer just Helga G. Pataki; daughter of the Beeper King and sister of the golden child who's shadow masked her brilliant spark. No, no. As Helga felt the adrenaline take over her very being, she knew that she had to embrace everything she really was and had been since she was born nearly 13 years ago.

She was Helga Geraldine Pataki; a strong, independent, and talented human being with whom nobody dared cross. She refused to live in the shade of the shadow her sister cast and she refused to allow a boy– no matter how kind or how weirdly shaped his head may be –define her.

With this in mind, Helga walked away from the outfit she was to put on and returned to her closet once again. And just like the last time, she wasn't walking out of it empty handed. At long last, was finally time to purge everything that could be linked to the Helga she once was; the Helga she allowed to be completely swept up by the chimerical magic of love.

Her conscience clear and her motivation pure, the blonde preteen entered her closet and began to collect the shrine she had spent a lifetime perfecting. Each piece of her Arnold sculpture, every wad of used chewing gum and previously-discarded tissue, the volumes upon volumes of Arnold-related poetry she'd slaved over- all of it was promptly tossed into a garbage bag and tied shut to be thrown away once and for all.

Yet, as she reached her most recent hiding place where her two lockets awaited their demise, Helga couldn't let herself part with them. Together with her favorite photograph of the couple and her old pink ribbon, Helga strategically placed the collection of priceless items onto her bed to be put away ceremoniously once she'd changed into the new clothes.

As she stared down at the precious cargo she could not relinquish to the trash, her eyes glanced over at the outfit she'd previously prepared. With a firm nod, Helga reached out and grabbed the clothing before turning around and making her way out of the bedroom and to the bathroom.

Meeting her reflection in the mirror, Helga looked herself over as she was. Staring back at her was a sad girl in a dress that didn't feel as it once had. Despite never being as overtly girly as her clothes made her appear to be, the color pink had been a security blanket for her- a safe place. Thanks to a comment made by Arnold what felt like eons ago, Helga refused to change the smallest piece of herself that she knew the football-headed boy liked about her.

However, with their relationship over and her heart forever changed by what had happened, Helga at long last felt like it was time to shed her skin and be reborn.

With each piece of clothing she removed, Helga began to feel more free. It was as if every article of clothing she once wore had weights sewn into the fabric they were made from. As she began to replace the overtly colored pink pieces of her once-wardrobe with the threads of her future, the new Helga G. Pataki began to emerge.

After finalizing all of the pieces she now wore, Helga stood completely still while staring at the reflection of her near-completely evolved form. Tilting her head, she looked at the hesitant blue eyes watching her from the other side of the glass. With a heavy sigh, the young blonde silently admitted to herself that it was time to do the hardest thing she had yet to do.

Then she could move on.

Then she could move forward.

Then she could take those frightening next steps- but only after she finished the final step in this difficult process.

Heavy though her heart felt from where it beat loudly in her chest, Helga exited the bathroom and slowly returned to her bedroom. Standing in the doorway, her eyes shifted back and forth between the two lockets she'd carefully placed on opposite ends of her bed. Sitting between the lockets at the center of her bed was the old picture she couldn't part with and just beside that lay her pink ribbon. A symbol of who she once was, the now-faded ribbon sat atop of a gray beanie that Helga had found at one of the thrift stores she'd visited.

Everything was in place. Where am I supposed to put all this sentimental junk, anyway? She silently asked herself before an idea sprang in her head.

Running to Olga's room, she entered without so much as a knock to see if her older sister was inside. Thankfully she was nowhere to be seen and Helga went directly to the walk-in closet.

Turning on the light, she looked through the clothes Olga had left behind when she had moved out. Immediately Helga spotted the small oak chest that she had stashed at the back of the closet for safe-keeping.

It had been her grandmother's; her Nana Geraldine's. When she had died a few years back, Helga had helped the family move her Nana's things out of the nursing home she'd been residing in; many of the items either being sold for profit or carelessly tossed away. Yet as she had helped to throw so many of her nice things in the trash, it was this chest that Helga had squirrelled away for a rainy day.

Dusting off the beautifully stained wood, Helga held the box tightly in her grip before solemnly making her way back to where her unfinished business awaited.

The minute she stepped through the doorway and into her room with the box in tow, the atmosphere around her- the very air she breathed –changed entirely. It was as if every drop of adrenaline once coursing through her body had suddenly evaporated, leaving her with only the pain and sorrow she'd been trying to misplace.

But there was nowhere to hide it anymore; no lock and key that would lock away such feelings. The only way that she could rid herself of the feelings was to confront them after avoiding them for so long. Not only did she have to confront them, she also had to listen, honor and eventually pack them away so she could move on to the next chapter of her young life.

Slowly and thoughtfully, Helga made her way to the objects waiting on her bed. Gently, she set down her Nana's box and opened it with the upmost care. As it squeaked itself open, Helga softly began to speak.

"Within this chest I shall at last put thee to rest," she murmured while reaching out to take one of her lockets in her hand- the one that had traveled all the way to the jungle with her and been saved from the perilous waters by none other than Brainy himself.

"Mine own heart," she whispered to the picture that had been ripped to shreds and then tirelessly put back together before finally being placed behind the glass of the locket again. "How noble your cause. For with this—this pure heart that I hold in my hands—our love first had the courage to bloom." She then brought the locket to her lips where she placed the sweetest of kisses on the glass before gently placing it at the bottom of the oak box.

"And it is with this-" Helga continued as she picked up the second of her lockets; the one Arnold had given to her for Christmas the very same year they returned with his parents from San Lorenzo. "It is with this heart that our love blossomed and flourished, only to wilt beneath the ever-constant heat of my love... and my insecurities."

She brought the locket in towards her chest where she held it tightly for but a brief moment. Bringing the golden heart out to look at it with tearful eyes, Helga cleared her throat to say her goodbyes to this cherished piece of her recent past. "May I always feel your affections through this token of our history. And one day, though perhaps farther and more distant than I may know, may your love find its way back to me."

Cautiously she set the second locket beside the first at the bottom of the wooden chest; the size of each locket filling the box perfectly.

Next, Helga reached for the photograph which lay just beside the box on the bed. As she kept her eyes fixated on the smiling faces of the image she held between her two fingers, a wave of memories washed over her.

"Hey Hair Boy," Helga said with a mischievous grin, "you got a little something on your face there..."

Arnold eyed his girlfriend curiously where she sat just across from him in Slausen's infamous corner booth- it was a booth that had silently been reserved for couples only; a place the two had never ventured to sit in before.

"Okay..." he said skeptically with a minimal smile of his own. "Then tell me where this 'little something' is."

Helga took her index finger and dragged it through the top of the chocolate ice-cream still remaining in her waffle cone. "Well..." she said slowly, "It's riiiiiiiight there," and with that, she reached her hand out to smear the cold substance on the tip of his nose.

"Hey!" Arnold exclaimed with a laugh, "What was that for?"

The blonde gave only a shrug for an answer as she reveled in her amusement.

"Okay, fine!" the young boy quickly retorted before taking a scoop of his own vanilla ice cream and reaching out to smear it over his companion's face. "Two can play at that game!"

"You did not just do that, football-head..." her tone was shocked but there was still a hint of delight laced between the words she spoke.

"I think I did," Arnold countered with a devious upturn of his lips.

Just as the pair leaned in towards each other over the table in the booth for a kiss, a bright light nearly blinded them. Helga turned to face the direction of the flash and called out with heavy irritation, "Hey, what gives?!"

The picture she held in front of her eyes had been one taken with the hope that it would embarrass the couple once posted to social media. When Helga saw it online, however, she couldn't stop herself from begging Phoebe to print it out for her on her dad's nice printer.

"Hollow memories," Helga muttered as she continued to look at the picture. "A moment, frozen in time. This image, a capture of two captured hearts. May it serve to remind me of what once was and what could be once again." Keeping her eyes on the smiling ice-cream covered couple, she lowered the picture to rest on top of the two lockets in the oak chest.

"And finally," she went on as her eyes looked over to the splash of pink against its gray backdrop, "my ribbon." As she clutched the strip of pink in her palm, Helga shut her eyes and went back to the memory she perhaps held most dearly.

The toddler kept her eyes downcast on the sidewalk that she walked on. Rain poured from the sky to further drench the already soaked child who's once brightly pink overalls now only highlighted the mud which covered her from head to toe.

As she continued to put one foot ahead of the other in pursuit of the pre-school she had walked passed only a handful of times in her young life, the droplets of water falling from the heavens suddenly stopped. Curious, she looked up to see that a blue umbrella was shielding her from the rain. As she followed the umbrella's handle down to the set of hands that held it, the small blonde girl's eyes widened in confusion.

Why would this boy who she had never met do such a thing? What would make him want to help a wet and dirty child such as herself?

"Hi," the boy said with a warm smile. "Nice bow."

Having forgotten the bow that sat on top of her head, the girl looked at the young stranger quizzically. "Huh?"

"I like your bow because it's pink like your pants," he continued as the pair waddled their way towards the doors leading to the dry warmth of Urban Tots Pre-School; all the while the umbrella moving with them to keep the rain away from both of their heads.

Once under the awning of the building, he at last lowered his umbrella and closed it before him and the adult he was with entered the school.

As the bewildered girl stood frozen outside, she reached up to touch the damp bow the boy with the oddly shaped head had complimented. After a moment, she looked through the glass of the doors to where the boy was putting away his bright yellow raincoat.

A soft sigh escaped Helga before she opened her eyes to return to the present.

"This ribbon," she stated before looking down to where it rest in her hand, "was once a bow that sat on a plain and average child's head. This child, who was covered in mud, this child who was soaked to bone... this child who had hardly seen or felt love in the world around her..."

Helga's voice trailed off and she struggled to gain control of her emotions as they threatened to take over. "It was but a small act of kindness from a strange football-headed boy that made that average child into something extraordinary."

Reaching towards the ribbon with her other hand, she outstretched it so it made a straight line before her. "May this ribbon always..." The blonde sucked in a breath of air as her voice cracked on the last word that had left her mouth. Centering herself with the extra oxygen in her lungs, she closed her eyes which in turn helped a lone tear break free from its home to roll down her cheek. "May this ribbon... always hold our most tender of moments together; our very first moments together which showed a scared little girl that unwarranted love exists. That love itself exists and with it, magic itself."

Tenderly, Helga set the ribbon to lay atop of the picture; the last part of the old Helga officially placed within the confines of the wooden box. Before closing it altogether, the forlorn preteen took the gray beanie into her hands and looked down at it with a sense of bittersweet melancholy within her.

"At last, I shall now don the final piece of my new skin. This hat will signify the beginning of a new Helga G. Pataki- one of confidence and a renewed sense of self. May this be the start of something both difficult and rewarding. May this be the start of a second chance that you, my sweet orzo-headed darling, give to me for which I will never be able to truly repay. My love, my dearest, my beloved... my Arnold."

And with that, Helga capped herself with the gray beanie and shut the chest with a sense of finality before carefully sliding it under her bed. From it's new resting place, she hoped that her momentos would bring her good fortune as she slept above them each night.

In this way not only would the shell of who she once was would always be with her, so would the one she held with highest esteem. No matter the reality with which she lived in, each night, she would be able to be with her beloved once again- if only through her dreaming.

With the oak chest safely tucked away, Helga reached for one last time and turned it over in her hands.

Her journal.

As she inspected each inch of the once-empty book Miles had given her, a different form of sadness took over her thoughts. Would she ever see them again? Ever be within the safe walls of the Sunset Arms Boarding House once more, for even a minute?

Opening the journal to the first clean page, Helga took her pen from the nightstand and began to jot down thoughts as they came.

Wakeful Earth- Be you damned!

How I long for the night's cool touch.

Might I sleep the day through?

For it is only with slumber's sweet relief that I shall see you

Each night- prized by my dormant eyes

Our meetings eternally held dear.

They are but a secret-

not even daybreak may point her warm fingertips to every stolen moment.

Our time spent together in bliss, though brief and ever sweet,

Remain forever secured through my distant dreaming.

Without writing another word, she shut the journal with the intention of keeping it closed until she could look at it without a flood of memories pouring into her subconscious.

Until that time came, Helga vowed not to look at the journal that once brought her comfort from its pages.

Standing from her bed, she bent over to reach for the wooden box and slide it out. With the objects she'd neatly packed away looking up at her as she opened the box, Helga sighed and added her journal to the collection.

"One day," she told it before closing the box and sliding it under her bed to be left undisturbed for months on end. "One day... but not today."

So began the mantra of Helga's adolescence.

So much angst! So many feelings! Ahh! What will happen next?! Also- just because HELGA is taking a break from writing, it does not mean that I will be ;)

About that song up there- it goes PERFECTLY in every sense of the word with the chapter from start to finish respectively. I really suggest you guys check it out. Not only do the lyrics fit the overall theme of this chapter, the music itself has the feeling this chapter evokes from beginning to end. It's amazing.

I'd like to give a SHOUTOUT to Derek, AKA Metalheadrailfan, who pointed me in the direction of the music video, "No More Tears" by Ozzy Osbourne which gave me the idea for the dream sequence. Thank you so much!

And thank you to YOU for sticking with this story! I cannot tell you how much I love and appreciate you all. Please be sure to leave me a REVIEW and let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

See you at the next chapter!