The sunlight somehow found its way into the bedroom, but it didn't affect the girl's attitude. Last night didn't go too well either. She remembered the crying, especially that since she wasn't used to tears in the first place. However she probably wouldn't have remembered it if there were no dried tear marks on her face. It felt more like a bad dream than anything else. The sadness, the pain, the black plastic, the small shouts from her classmates as they asked her to stop what she was doing. But she didn't care.
What she knew what she was doing was the best for everyone whether or not she liked, no, loved it.
Helga's eyes were sore and exhausted as she struggled to blink. She could sense that there were dark circles under them without even having to look. Her arms were also pained and her feet felt like they had walked a few miles when really she was only in and out of her room to get the black garbage bag. She flexed her fists as she sat up on her elbows not daring to move anything else. A frown marred her features as she knew that she sounded more depressed than ever in her entire life.
"Well, today's the day," she continued to stare at the bed frame as the light made her brass bed look golden. "The day I start living a new life without Arnold in it." It pained her to say that, and it was all she could muster except one thing – a chuckle. "At least there isn't any love potion involved." It seemed like that was the going to be the only humor she had in her. Lifting her ragdoll blanket, its soft material moved off to the side as she got out of bed. She sat there, Helga's mind a blank.
There was nothing to say, nothing to think other than the thoughts of giving up on her beloved ever loving her in return. She sat there, her left hand reaching up behind her head to loosen her hair. She turned her attention to the floor as there was her shadow creeping up on her as if it was watching her every move. But more importantly, something was missing. "What could it be?" She had on her pink pajama shirt on as well as her pigtails. Her fingers worked their way up, and that was when she knew what was missing. "My bow. Where is it?"
The girl turned this way and that, squinting as the light got in her eyes. "I like your bow because it's pink like your pants." Helga stilled her back as she turned to her window. Even though she could hear random cars and the blurred conversations that were held outside, that memory stood out more than anything. The tree branches tapped the window as a knock was heard from the door. "Helga, time to get up," Miriam shouted, "you're going to be late!" She turned around, not because of her mother's emotionless voice, but the sound of the plastic sack hanging from her door knob.
Helga coughed lightly, trying to mask her hurt. The last thing she needed was for her mom to barge in at the moment. "Ok, ok Miriam I'm up! I'm getting ready sheesh!" When the woman's footsteps were heard, it was obvious that she had left. Helga then turned to the window again and sighed. "This isn't going to be easy is it Ar- no, no. I'm getting over him starting right now." Stumbling on her own two feet, she went to the mirror by the bag. "I mean, he's never going to love me. He has been honest practically his whole life. If he were to truly have feelings for me, well," she rubbed her right arm before reaching the garbage can to stand on. Flipping it over, it clanked while Helga set herself straight on top of it. She was too short to see much past her head.
When she had the chance, she actually saw herself in the mirror. The self that she wouldn't normally let her eyes look at, but there was nothing really to hide anymore. She already exposed her inner most secrets to a football headed boy that could care about her, but didn't love her. Her eyes were too red as she stood there. Her blonde hair was tangled as one pigtail was slightly undone. No bow in sight, tear marks, dark eyes, and messed up hair, Helga wasn't the person that she knew everyone had come to known her as. What would Harold say? Sid? Gerald? Phoebe? All of these thoughts about what everyone else thought of her circled in her mind. Another tear shed.
"Hey, hey why am I crying? I shouldn't cry. I'm Helga Pataki." The girl said in a way to make her feel better, stronger like her normal self; sadness still laced in her attempt. But she was going to change all of that. Her attitude – no; except toward Arnold most likely. But this appearance, she grimaced with annoyance, had to go. She couldn't get this upset, look this distressed. Sure she would have to get over the only person that genuinely cared about her. But she could handle things without him. She had done so with everything else in her life.
She reached up and tugged at her clear hair ties, pulling them down from the sides of her head. It flicked her ears, hearing the sounds as her hair fell down onto her shoulders and back. Her bangs were still long and covered her forehead save her brow. Since last year's Valentine's Day, she always wondered how her bangs had been able to be put to the side along with the rest of her face. Of course she had to hide half of it without Ar-.
"Man! This isn't working!" She tossed one of the hair ties to the ground in frustration. "How can I stop thinking about him? I mean," stepping down and went to her bedside for her hair brush, "Just because I'm getting rid of all of my stuff, that doesn't mean that I'll stop seeing him permanently, not have all the memories inside my stupid head, and still manage to somehow edit his essay." Gripping the item, Helga let it sort her hair the way it should be as her head leaned to the left and her eyes closed. She pulled at it roughly, but slowly so that at least she wouldn't go bald.
Since she no longer had the bow, most likely because it was in the garbage, and it would be weird for her to just have her pigtails, she set her blonde hair in a tight ponytail that hung low behind her back. That way, she could have her hair down and Arnold wouldn't know that she was "Cecile" last year. The last thing that she needed was for him to question her. Helga knew that she was somewhat turning over a new leaf.
"But," the girl said to herself as she went for the closet, "I can't ignore him like I did with the love potion incident either. He noticed a change the first day, and last, day I tried that. And now that he knows, he definitely would bring it up. I have to keep myself busy. That way he can't tell what's going on. But how can I?" Helga pulled the doorknob, frowning again as she looked to find an empty, Arnold-shrine-free closet. "Thank goodness I threw this stuff out after Pheebs and Lila left. Otherwise I'd never hear the end of it."Only a few pieces of old candy wrappers, the occasional lint ball, and her daily white shirt and pink jumper on hangers. She heard the hangers clank against each other as she yanked her outfit and quickly shut the door.
She chose not to think much more on it as she continued to get dressed and put on her white shoes. Nothing too major and she could easily explain the hair. It wasn't that big of a deal. But her side started hurting because of her nervousness about the day. She was used to feeling nauseous, even her doctor knew with her "special medication". Helga knew it typically happened whenever she was anxious. But she understood that making this big of a change in her life would take getting used to. So she shrugged her shoulders in thought that the pain would only subside with time.
Then she ended up stepping down the stairs steadily with the garbage bag, hearing each creak and the smell of honey biscuits and French toast reaching her nose. It was probably very delicious. "But it was probably made by Olga," Helga murmured to herself, "Like I'd give her that satisfaction that she once again is the perfect daughter." It wasn't a good day already that she'd have to give up the only thing that she has ever truly loved. But it really didn't help that her sister made her scowl because she was everything Helga wasn't.
Simply put – Helga was unloved and she believed she deserved to be. She understood that she could never meet Olga's self proclaimed standards or any attempts at having Arnold return her feelings.
Sensing that the tears were going to well up in her eyes, Helga set the plastic bag aside, knelt by her backpack in the front hall and unzipped the cold fabric in search of any money that in her math book. The book was obviously made for counting numbers and the class right before she had lunch, so she always left any spare money in there. After going through page by page, her eyes went wide. "I had forgotten to get rid of this one. I-I have to get rid of it," it was the shrine she carved out, "it-it's for the best."
Fortunately there was some cash, about enough to get her some tapioca pudding. Once she put the money in her jumper pocket where her locket once was, she gently sighed in defeat as she reached to the black bag once more. It crinkled, and Helga cringed. She didn't want Olga to find her, or worse Bob. He'd probably force her to eat and tell her sister that she's an amazing cook. She turned her head around, hair tickling her upper arm, lucky to find that no one heard her. Helga went back to opening the bag and stuffing the math book inside as quietly as she could.
Once it was safe and secure, the girl stood up as she grasped her coat off the hook on the wall. Normally the purple jacket was comforting during this time of year. But everything, obviously, reminded her of Arnold! This was ridiculous! "I wore this coat last Thanksgiving! But I, but I have nothing else. Oh well, I suppose I, I have no choice. I have to accept it. Everything will remind me of him because I love him. But I have to get over him. This, this is bad; the hair, closet, the locket, the math book, and now this!" Helga was frustrated because knowing that she thought this over and over again all morning, but apparently it just wasn't that easy to let go.
The silky texture met her arms as she pulled the wool garment on her back. Just because it was sunny didn't mean it wasn't cold or that it wouldn't get cold. Her hand grasped and opened the door as the other put the backpack over her shoulder. The sunlight warmed her face, but the light wind made her have goose bumps running up and down her body. "Crimeny," she glanced down as she grabbed onto the garbage bag, "this is it huh Arnold?" This would be the last time, even though she couldn't see the items beneath it, that she would ever own them again. They were garbage.
Her love was garbage. "My happiness is useless right now. But hopefully, with the last bit of help from you Football Head," she smiled as she descended the stairs with the bag, "I can get it back without your help at the same time."
They clunked and banged as she closed the front of her house. Her feet were quiet as the rest of everyone else's lives passed by her own gaze. Looking down the street to her left, she saw that the garbage truck come up the street. Now finding herself on the sidewalk, Helga tapped her fingers harder against the bag, almost as if it wasn't just about to disappear under her touch. She knew she wanted to take her possessions upstairs and store them in her closet and do what she had done day to day since she was three.
She strode forward and lifted the chilly metal lid to one of the cans as the truck was heading toward her. Helga's stuff went with her. She fixed her eyes on the item in her hand as it came closer to face one last time. It didn't smell anything like rotten eggs. She giggled. "You could never smell like rotten eggs my love. Only a stupid steel mill train."
"Hey girl, are you going to pitch that or what?" Helga shuddered as she turned her attention to the scruffy looking elderly man. His voice was deep and dry. And he was impatient, probably because he had to pick up half of Hillwood's garbage.
It wasn't him that she was surprised of. She shouldn't have felt that way. It was just that she kept saying to herself that today was absolutely necessary, for everyone's sakes, that it didn't feel like that it would happen as suddenly as it came. But here it was, and Helga wasn't going to give in. She never would want to do this.
Not in any lifetime. She loved Arnold that much. But she didn't want to get her hopes up anymore. Nor did she want Arnold to come to the conclusion that he hated her at some point in the future. If she gave in, she would probably continue her bullying against him, have him more than angry and yell at her, and bring up her confession. Then she'd deny it, he would say that's a lie. And then he would ignore her, and leave her to herself. He would later on come to hate her.
It was what she deserved, she knew it. But she couldn't imagine her life without the Football Head around. However, she was going to try it anyway. That way he couldn't hate her and if she actually found something else to live for, or even someone else, then they'd both be happy. And all of this mess would be solved. It, it was the only way.
Helga continued to put the bag in the garbage can. "Yeah take it. I don't need it," she forcefully whispered. It bellowed out as the items hit the floor. This was too much for her. That was all she could say as she made her way to P.S. 118. And by the time she had gotten there, as she looked at her classmates one by one in a blur as they went into the school, a tear stain was left on her cheek.
Even as she saw Arnold walking up the stairs with Gerald, laughing about something or other, she stood there a few moments longer before the warning bell rang.
"I may get over you someday or somehow, but at least for a while you had my love Arnold, which is more than I'll ever get from anybody. So if you ever find yourself saying that you feel as if you were never loved, than at least you know now that I did, but I," Helga sniffled, "oh I can't even say it." She couldn't say it, because eventually it wasn't going to be true.
But the tear stain was real. And that was enough for her to start all over again. After all, the rain washes away problem's doesn't it? Or maybe it was just Arnold. After all, she met him on a day like his birthday after all - cloudy, cold, and raining. But there was this sunshine that he gave her.
And for right at that moment, the tear stain and the sunshine was all Helga needed. She could change. Helga just needed the chance. And that letter, although no one would know it especially Arnold, was one of the first steps.
"And I'm Helga Pataki. I'll find something I can do solely for myself and not anyone else. I can do anything if I stay strong and hold on to my determination," she genuinely smiled for the first time to herself as she walked up the stairs to class.