I think that this story is just pure cheesy drama. For those of you who like pure cheesy drama, you're in luck. This is almost as bad as a soap opera and it gets even worse. At least I don't plan to write about any evil twins (I guess I could still write about Arnie) or characters waking up from comas. But seriously, this is here for because it's important to the plot. It get's better. I love Arnold and Helga so much that it hurt to write this. I'm glad it's out of the way now.

This is the story of Arnold and Helga's break up, three months before the fight with Wolfgang.

-Three months prior.

It had been raining. A melancholy forecast for a melancholy day. Perfect.

Helga wore a black dress with a pink sash around her waist, a gray coat, and a pink bow in her hair that held way too much sentimental value. Her hair was worn down and reached to the middle of her back. She was leaning against the wall outside of her front door.

Arnold, wearing a black button up shirt and kakis, had struggled for almost ten minutes trying to get her outside of her house. She was drunk and they had a funeral they needed to attend.

"I'm just like her! You're crazy because I'm just like her!" Helga screamed belligerently. She couldn't get down the steps without Arnold's arm to hold on to. Instead she decided just to sit on the wet step by her front door. Her vision was blurred and her speech was slurred. Neighbors were trying not to stare. "Why are you even doing this to yourself?"

This isn't going to work. Arnold thought to himself. She should at least attend her own mother's funeral. I know she won't be able to live with herself if she missed it. Maybe not now but I'm sure in the future. I don't know what else I can do, there's no way she could sober up in time before the ceremony. Why would she even do this to herself? It's not even ten in the morning.

He had arrived to pick Helga up to attend her mother's funeral that morning because her father and sister were busy dealing with family members and preparations for the ceremony. He knocked on her door but it didn't answer. He quickly found the spare key and invited himself in. He checked the living room, kitchen, and Helga's bedroom before discovering her inebriated body on the trophy room floor along with two empty bottles of vodka and whiskey.

"Maybe it would be best if you went back inside and had a drink of water," Arnold suggested. The rain was pouring harder; his hair was no longer standing. He and Helga were now completely drenched in water and her hair was making light curls as it usually did in those conditions. She was still so beautiful to him.

"You're not listening to me!" Helga yelled and grabbed his pant leg. "I'm not good enough for you and you shouldn't continue to try to 'save me,' dammit. Don't you know a lost cause when you see one?"

She did seem like a lost cause. Since cancer was discovered in her mother's liver Helga had slowly been decaying. Arnold knew it had to do with her broken home. Helga felt neglected, and rightfully so. Her parents ignored her and her needs. For most of her life she had to fend for herself. Her father was abusive, demanding, and unsympathetic while her mother was always drunk and hollow. Helga didn't know how to handle the news of mother's illness and soon, her death. She couldn't understand why she didn't feel any sadness for her and she hated herself for it. She started to abuse the same drug her mother drank. At first she would take it from her mother's seemingly endless supply until that went dry. She then started stealing it from liquor stores. It was hard to keep this hidden from Arnold. He caught her intoxicated on many occasions and was seriously concerned for her mental heath. She wasn't the same Helga that she once was. She was depressed, unsocial, and miserable. Arnold tried to help her as much as he could but she would not recover.

"Just leave me alone, and find another girl."

"Why would I do that?" Arnold said calmly, "I love you, Helga."

"You need to stop doing that." Helga had her attention on her shoes. She was trying to take them off. There was no reason for her to be wearing her black high heels in the state that she was in, "You need to realize that you really don't."

"I know how I feel, Helga. Stop talking like this. I want to see you happy again. We should talk about it. I hate to see you be so hard on yourself," Arnold sat next to Helga, trying to look her in the eyes.

"There's an easy way to solve that problem. Just give it up, Arnold." She wasn't calling him any of his usual pet-names like "Arnoldo," "Football-head," "paste for brains," or even "bucko." Even though those names seem negative, Helga always used them with love in her heart. Their absence made Arnold worried. This was serious and Arnold understood it.

She was watching the ground, playing with her shoe straps absentmindedly. "I'm really flattered that you would go way out of your way to make me happy. I did all of those favors for you in elementary school and I confess my undying love to you and you feel obligated to return those passionate feelings. That's why I love you so much. You are so caring and thoughtful," she grew more silent and more solemn. "Your hope in others gave me hope, your kindness gave me what I needed to get through my life. You're sense of right and wrong are admirable and I'm astonished that I've never seen you do anything that would seriously hurt another. You care more about others than you do for yourself. You're always so optimistic and hopeful in humanity. I can't think of a time when you put yourself first. That's not in your nature. That's why I can't keep taking advantage of you like this." She had succeeded and freeing her feet from her heels.

"Helga, I love you. Believe me!" Arnold held Helga by her shoulders and looked deep into her sapphire eyes. Arnold's eyes were getting wet, but not from the rain. They were also full of desperation.

"You pity me more than you love me! That's what I'm trying to say!" Helga pushed Arnold away and stood on her feet still looking him in the eye, her tears unseen because of the rain. "This isn't fair to me and it definitely isn't fair to you."

"Please Helga, that's not-" Arnold pleaded.

"Stop lying to me and yourself." She interrupted. "Just be done with me. You're not fooling anyone, I know you're miserable and you really wish you didn't have to deal with me. Just walk away Arnold."

The two were silent for a few moments. Arnold turned away towards the busy street. I know this isn't the liquor talking. She's been trying to express these feelings for awhile now and I've been trying to ignore them. I don't think I can change her mind. Maybe some time apart will be for the best. Maybe things could get back to the way they were once she has some time to think.

He counted the five cars that drove by before whispering, "You're right. I can't love you like this." If Arnold's eyes were not red and irritated, you couldn't tell he was crying. I can't help you because you need to love yourself too. I'll always be here when you need me, when you're ready for me. Arnold would later spend many sleepless nights regretting that he didn't say this.

It seemed like an eternity until Helga walked through her front door without saying a single word. Arnold could only sit motionless for a few minutes. He rested his head in his hands and watched the traffic until he could get the energy to drive to the funeral of his ex-girlfriend's mother, alone.

-Like many others, I felt is was necessary to kill off Miriam. Sorry. This was a pretty lame flashback. The next chapter will pick off from where I left in chapter two.

Twelvepercent :D