Author Note: prepared to cry.
I do not own Hey Arnold.
Enjoy!
Blackness.
Blackness everywhere.
But the Blackness wasn't scary.
The Blackness kept him safely hidden away from the world, all its dangers, all those eyes, all those misapprehension that drowned him every single day of his life.
It was because of this that he didn't find the darkness scary, in fact it was his best friend.
But the darkness was not invincible, the darkness was not a full proof armour that could wrap around him and stop an arrow from hitting his heart, light always managed to shine through it no matter how much he begged and prayed for the sun not to rise, no matter how much clasped his hands around his ears to block out the sound of the world.
It always came through.
"GERALD, ITS TIME TO WAKE UP!"
That voice.
That voice should give him comfort, it should give him the strength he needed to get up and face the day.
But it did not.
His own mother voice sprayed over him like acid, it was just words but it was the attitude behind those words that made those six words sting.
His mother, did not care for him.
Once upon a time he was fooled by her sweet words but he had been through too much to continue to be a fool.
But as he wrapped himself in that red blanket to keep the coldness away, he knew he couldn't stay like this.
If his parents couldn't force him, the world would.
The world was something he could not hide from and the darkness could only do so much.
So he sat up, his cage he locked himself into shattered, his spine let out an echo of pain and he turned his body around, to place his bare feet on the ground.
Looking down was a mistake, what was once dark smooth feet that were blossoming into teen hood, were now covered in bumps and sore spots.
His legs were red all over.
They were a product of being abused day in and day out, ever since he moved back in the abuse never stopped long enough for his feet to take its time and heal from it.
So his favourite jeans that he wore day in and day out, had been ruined, they no longer held that comfortable sensation for him, instead they were a means to cover up the blood and the bruising.
He stood up and the strength simply wasn't there, he bent over but managed to recover before he walked to his towel, each winkled told of the times he was drenched with his own blood, sweat and misery.
He took off his clothes, dropped it to the floor and wrapped it around himself, than he walked to the brown door and took a breather.
Could he do this?
He had to do this, because he was only 8 years old, he had tried running away once only to come crawling back.
The bathroom door was only a few minutes walk from he was but to him it was like the walk of shame, what worried him the most was the obstacles he would face as he made his way to that sparkling white door.
"GERALD!" screamed his father, his stomach sank became the man had come out.
Once again he was blamed for something he did not do.
Once again, his father obsession with saving energy was trying to wrap around his neck and squeeze him right.
Once again, the man was trying to convince him he was a terrible person.
He didn't know why his father always assumed he did it, even if he had proof that said other wise.
Every morning, his father would go off on him.
But why?
Did his own father hate him?
Did the man regret his existence?
Did he not fit into a warped image the man had?
He retreated back to the darkness and the words couldn't follow him inside.
Gerald was silent and eventually the silence got to much for the man.
His lack of reaction, had burst through the yelling and made the man squirm.
Realising it was over, he walked past him and continued on his way, he had made it to the white door and the whiff of male deodorant was all the warning he got before, a large dark skinned teen with muscles towered over him.
The cause of his physical abuse, his older brother Jameo.
"Sorry, bro. But I've used all the hot water and the soap" the teen laughed before using his overwhelming strength to shove him into the wall.
The feeling of his already sore back colliding with the wall, had the same feeling as a hand going into a nail.
He winced and his brother laughter echoed in his ears as it got further and away.
He walked in and turned the tap off, the smell of male sweat was everywhere and Jameo had been right, he had used all the hot water.
But Gerald didn't dare shout for his parents to put fresh money into the boiler, that only result in another round of shouting, his father would look at him like he had just asked that the man donate an arm for free.
His family would torment him for days over it, if he dared to show weakness.
So as he turned the tap on, he braced for impact and than the water came.
It was cold.
Really cold.
His skin rose to the temperature and developed goose bumps like it was in fashion, it was torture.
But this wasn't the first time this had happened to him, and this certainly wouldn't be his last.
He got out, thanking the stars that he wasn't a teenager or the smell that came from his armpits would be uncontrollable.
He wrapped the towel around him, than he walked out the door, still shivering and headed to his room.
But one look at that door, filled him with dread.
It was a quarter open and that could only mean one thing, he ran to the door and opened it.
Right in the middle of the room was his little sister and she was making paper mashie out of his homework.
He said nothing as he yanked the pile of paper from her small gluey hands.
However before she could scream, he shoved a white sock in her mouth and changed into his signature baseball t-shirt, jeans and shoes.
Than he removed the slobbering sock and he watched her cry her way out of his room and to no doubt bring reinforcements.
Over the years, she had destroyed his most prized possessions but she was never blamed, it was always his fault.
Well, he had no intention of being punished.
He was grabbing onto straws, because if he didn't, he would go insane.
Or perhaps, he had taken that leap to madness already and he just didn't notice?
He got on all floors and found his hidden stash of candy under the floorboards, and than he shoved it all in his backpack, tied it and than headed to his window.
He opened the window, the wind was strong but he pushed right through it, he turned head and latched onto the green pipe an arm reach form him and than he began to shimmering down it, there was suddenly shouting from above and the desperation of his actions increased by ten fold.
When he came down, his hands were mess, there were covered in blood, paint and oil.
The pain hit him but it was nothing compared to Jameos punches so he pressed on.
He ran his way to school, he ignored the cloud of smoke he went through, he ignored the hissing of cats, he ignored the honking of the cars.
He saw the familiar walk way and walked up the steps and entered the school.
The dim lights shone down on him, guiding him to the male bathroom, inside it, he washed his hands in a sink he hoped was clean.
Then he took out a candy bar and ate it, he was well aware of the security camera not that far from him, but he had been coming early for the past week and nobody had said anything about it.
Nobody cared.
He wanted somebody to care.
He clenched his small hands.
Those weren't the hands of a kid who had nothing to worry about other than school and sports.
They looked war torn.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked so tired, so desperate, so painfully mature.
He than heard voices as students began to flood in and he watched himself fix his face, he splashed water and became the Gerald everybody knew and mostly loved.
He than walked out of the room and headed to class, in class he sat down and took out his homework, it was wishful thinking on his part that he wanted to believe it was salvageable.
But it was a mess, glue and scissor cuts were everywhere.
If he had any other teacher, he would have given into the bile forming in his throat and telling him to cry.
His fellow students began to flood in and he was greeted his best friend in the world Arnold.
Arnold guessed correctly when he saw his homework.
"Your sister?" he said, somewhat sombre.
The boy had been to his house but Arnold did not know the full extent of what was happening.
Arnold thought what was going on was too childish for him.
But what he needed in that moment was a friend but Arnold just wasn't there for him.
He will never forget how Arnold looked at him that day.
But Gerald kept how he felt locked up right, just like everything else.
Just like in this moment.
He nodded at the boy and than their teacher came in, Mr Robert Simmons was thin but he was an easy going man and a good teacher.
"I'll start with the register and you can all drop your homework off when called" said, the man joyfully.
This man.
No matter how terrible your day started out, he would always make you smile within moments.
He had saved him so many times and the man didn't realise it.
Mr Simmons sat down and began to do the register.
Everybody began to leave their old wooden chairs and handed their homework in but than it was his turn.
His turn to get up.
Pain.
Pain coursed through his body as he forced himself to stand up and than he walked to the big brown desk, every step had so much pain behind it but he never showed it on his face.
He was good at not showing his problems on his face.
He managed to make his way to the desk and stood before it before putting his homework on the desk.
Again it was ruined.
"Gerald, what happened?" said, the teacher seeing it.
"My little sister tried to make a boat out of it this morning" he said. "By the time I caught her, it was too late"
It told the truth.
But people only saw the childish side to it.
They did not know the full picture.
That's why he heard.
"Than you shouldn't have left it out than" said, Helga. "Even a morn knows not to leave important documents out where little kids can reach"
Helga was just being herself.
But in that moment he finally snapped.
Leave it out?
LEAVE IT OUT!?
His little sister was a monster who was allowed to destroy what he held dire.
She destroyed him emotionly and neither of his parents cared.
How dare she judge him, when she lived in a massive house, where her father didn't scream every morning about saving money?
Helga didn't live in a house where she was punched and abused by her old sibling everyday, Helga old sister was the most polite and respectful person he had ever met.
She didn't live in a house, where her stuff was destroyed and somehow your expected to have backups of everything because your parents wouldn't do a thing about it.
"Gerald?" said, the teacher.
And that's when the man saw his eyes.
His true eyes that he hid behind the mask.
The eyes reeking of tiredness.
Of loneliness.
Of so much pain and hurt.
Despair.
He was done.
"I'm sorry, sir." he said, to the man. "But I just can't do this anymore"
His voice was so sad, you could hear his cry.
The bustling and lively classroom disappeared around him and darkness surrounding him.
He let out a cry from his soul, if the world heard him than so be it.
He wanted the pain to stop.
Please, darkness make the pain stop.
"Gerald?"
But that was all he could hear, the pain was to much, he had to run, he had to run from the pain.
"GERALD!"
There were more voices now but he continued to run, he just wanted the pain to stop.
He didn't want to go back.
Why was he born into this world?
Why couldn't he have parents that actually cared for him?
Why couldn't he have siblings who didn't treat him like garbage?
Why was he the only one the boy who helped people, not helping?
There was no light in his world anymore and deep down he knew this wasn't right.
But he had left warning signs, everyday he prayed that somebody would speak up and pull him out of the darkness, that they would show him that the light wasn't all bad.
But nobody did.
He didn't care that his eye sight was getting cloudily, he didn't care for the shouting right behind him, he didn't care for the sounds of bikes.
He just wanted it all to go away.
He wanted to run.
His feet took him somewhere.
He didn't know where but the door was open, he entered into new darkness and each step it felt like destiny, he heard shouts desperately wanting to reach him but he just want further into the darkness, he climbed up the steps and didn't care at all for the smell.
He got higher and higher, until he opened a door and out came light.
But even that was shallow now.
He heard the sound of pigeons and he could guess where he was.
He was on pigeon man's rooftop.
It was probably fate that lead him to the rooftop of the loneliness person he had ever heard of.
The man was no longer here, flown off with his bird to greener pastures.
Could he do the same thing?
Could he fly off to a place where he could be happy?
Where he wouldn't have to go home?
Without him realising it, his feet had already begun to move towards the ledge, towards the sound of the cars honking and fumes hitting his nostrails.
He got up on the ledge and looked down.
Something finally cut through his darkness in that moment.
Fear.
The basic human instinct to live on came rushing in and opened his eyes to what he was doing.
But the darkness had not left.
Light and darkness battled each other.
The Light showed him flashes, that the darkness kept from him.
Arnold.
Football headed best friend.
How would Arnold be without him?
The poor guy had already lost his parents, now he wanted to heap the death of his best friend on his shoulders as well?
He took a step back.
But than the darkness showed him, that Arnold was not innocent in this.
Didn't he tell him a bit of it only for the child to dismissed the problem?
That look flashed, those negative emotions raged.
But Arnold was such a good guy, who already experienced loss and here he was on the ledge, thinking about jumping.
But didn't Arnold say this was not serious?
The battle raged on.
Phoebe face showed up next.
Wouldn't she cry?
Wouldn't she miss him?
How could he do this to her?
He took another step back.
But than the image of his family appeared.
The same family, he wanted to rent a room to get away from.
The darkness reminded him that he crawled back to them and everything was fine for a few days before everybody realised they could be the worst and he would have nowhere to go.
He couldn't survive out here and any adult will just drag him back.
Jump.
Be free.
And never worry about going home again.
The world hates you, nobody cares.
Right now cares.
The darkness won.
So with a tear in his right eye, he closed his eyes and smiled, before he took a step forward.
His body tipped and he felt the wind rush through him but instead of fear, he was surrounded with joy.
His last few moments were filled with joy.
And than his head hit the pavement, the darkness came for his soul.
Absolute Darkness.
And scene!