Author's Note: The song, which is a very sad and disturbing song, is not mine. Therefore, it belongs to Jack Johnson, and the name is "The News". Listen to the meaning behind it, because things are not right in Helga's mind at the moment. I do make references to the first movie and the (no longer defunct yay!) second movie.

Chapter Three: "It's Just Make-Believe"

Phoebe lifted her eyes from the spot on which they had remained the entire story and smiled sourly at her. "Helga, I'm sorry you felt that way at the time. I meant to visit you, but according to your parents, 'no one' was allowed to visit." She paused for a moment, contemplating. "Hm…I wonder why Arnold was allowed to visit?"

Helga laughed feebly, trying to soothe the anger building up inside. So it was her parents' faults, after all? And all that time, she'd thought no one cared for her! They had to have known what she was feeling, what she was going through! Why would they leave her alone like that?

To teach her a lesson, that's what. That Patakis always keep their mouths shut and sweep their feelings under the rug.

She sighed and then smirked, trying to lift her mood so Phoebe wouldn't ask questions about things best left to the past. "Oh, you remember how he was," she said in such a flighty way that she wanted to gag. "He could be very persuasive when he wanted something badly. He always wanted to solve our problems for us." Bad mistake, that was. That comment made her frown.

Solve your problems, you mean, her mind whispered.

Phoebe gaped at her, unbelieving. "What? While it's true that he always wanted to help, what do you mean, 'when he wanted something badly?' Is there something that happened between you two, something you haven't told me?"

She burst out laughing, and Phoebe glared at her. "Sorry, Pheebs," she said, grinning, "but I wish there had been. We were nothing more than friends." She looked down at the floor – anything to keep from looking at Phoebe. She hated to lie to her, but Phoebe would want to pry into something that was…well, nothing. She would never have anything with him. Not because of him. It was her fault she had burned the bridge between them.

"Whatever you say, Helga. You'll tell me when you are ready."

God, no. Not that. Why did Phoebe have to say THAT?

A tear slipped down her cheek. "Please don't say that, Phoebe. It brings up bad memories."

It was a couple of days after the note that Arnold made his reappearance. She was listening to her radio when the nurse announced over the intercom that she had a visitor.

"Who the hell could it be now?" The nurse scowled at her grand show of annoyance, but truthfully, inside Helga was trembling with rapturous joy.

The doors buzzed and slid open, and her anticipation ended when Arnold walked inside. He smiled and waved. "Hey there, Helga."

She felt like her heart would explode! He came back! He came back to see her when no one else would even be bothered with making the trek to the hospital to see her. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to—

"What are you doing here, Arnoldo?" Well, so much for that. Her brain had other plans.

He frowned. "I thought you'd be happy to see me." The poor dear looked angry and uncomfortable...and something else. He looked sad.

Right…like he'd ever actually come out to see her because he really wanted to, she told herself. He probably still felt obligated to see her because of what happened. Yeah, that was it. "What do you want?" she snapped.

He looked away, the aggravation and hurt evident in his eyes. "Did you read my letter?"

She groaned in embarrassment. Why in God's name did he have to bring up his letter now? "Uh...yes."

He still wouldn't look at her. "Can we go somewhere private, like someplace where we won't be stared at?"

"Huh?" She looked around her, and yes dammit, everyone was watching them like they were the weekend movie or something. She grabbed his arm and led him to her room, though not before staring them down and muttering, "Damn bunch of busybodies. Criminy!"

When they were safely in her room, she cracked her door – couldn't shut the damn thing all of the way without the nurses having a fit – and then stood there, with her arms crossed and a frustrated look on her face. Then she walked over to her bed and plopped down, stomach first, reveling in the comfort it held. She needed that comfort, the warmth that gave her a feeling of safety. She needed it for all it was worth because there he was, her football-headed love god, in the flesh, in her room. Hiding her rapidly blushing cheeks within her arms, she mumbled, "And you were saying?"

"Yeah." He paused and placed a chair in front of her.

God! What was she to do? She looked straight ahead, but averted her eyes when she came in direct view of his…ahem…his pants. Well, not his pants, per say, but his…ah, forget it! The whole thing almost made her heart jump out of her throat, for Christ's sake!

"What do you think?"

She gulped and stuttered, "W-what? Think a-b-bout w-what?" She couldn't stop thinking about where her eyes had been previously.

God, Helga! Stop it!

He looked at her with obvious confusion written in his stare. "What do you think it's about, Helga? The letter!"

"Oh." She desperately needed to change the subject! She looked out her window, trying to gain his attention. "Uh, it sure is a nice day! Is it hot out there? It, uh, sure is hot in here!" she exclaimed in distress while absentmindedly rubbing her arm.

"Helga? Are you okay?"

She giggled, and damned if she didn't sound like a moron! "Yeah, sure! I'm right as rain!"

He groaned. "Then quit changing the subject." Defeated, she nodded, and he cleared his throat, moving on. "It isn't easy for me either, okay?"

She looked up at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? "Huh?"

He laughed nervously. "Well, I wasn't sure how you'd react after reading that. I just…well, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to show you that you were wrong-"

"Say what?" she blurted out. Fuck her brain for not letting him finish! She sounded harsher than usual, but she didn't mean it! She just couldn't understand what he was trying to say!

He was unmoved though; even daring enough to look her in the eyes now, as if he was searching for something. But what? "You are wrong," he said flatly. "People do care. I care."

God, she wanted to melt. He cared about her! It was a dream come true…but still….

But still, her mind had its problems believing he could care about her. And she voiced that. "Why would you care about me?"

"Because you are my friend, Helga."

So that was all. Just 'a friend'. Never anything more for her. She laughed sarcastically. "Just a friend, huh?"

His lips started to shake, and she could tell that her beloved was getting slightly pissed off. "I know how you feel about me, Helga. I've never forgotten. But you have to understand how I feel! It hasn't been easy at all for me-"

"WHAT?" she yelled. No matter how much she loved him, she wasn't going to sit there and let him mock her feelings! "Just who the hell do you think you are-"

He cut her off. "Would you let me finish?" he hissed. Exhaling slowly to calm herself down, she nodded. She felt a deep gut-wrenching anguish and betrayal more than she felt anger. He began again. "You know I was away for a few years traveling with my mom and dad."

"Yes." Where was he going with this?

"Well, that whole time I was gone, I thought a lot about you and what you did for me. I began to understand why you did all the things you did. I forgave you, and well," he said, blushing, "I even began to like you. To…to love you. You are what got me through a lot of nights. It was what you told me that made me believe in myself enough to prevail."

She smiled, becoming hopeful. "Thank you, Arnold."

He grinned back. "Yeah well, I should thank you. Anyway, after I came back to Hillwood, I was determined to tell you that I could finally return your feelings. But," he sighed, and then his voice trailed off.

Her hopes were disappearing before her eyes. After all this time, he loved her! He wanted to tell her! She had been dreaming about kissing him, and then he said, 'But.' Her body had been so close to feeling giddy with happiness, with love – returned love! She was finally beginning to know how a person feels when they are loved back, and then he had to ruin it! On the verge of tears, her voice cracking, she asked meekly, "But?"

"But you aren't the same, Helga," he lamented. "When I came back, I was ready to tell you, but you weren't the same girl."

"What do you mean?" she managed to croak out.

"I'm not talking about beauty," he paused, looking her over, "because you have become quite a beautiful girl." She felt herself growing redder by the minute while he did that. "I'm talking about your attitude. Your personality has changed, Helga, and changed drastically. You've always been a bit of tough nut to crack, so to speak, but at least you could talk to people. You acted as if nothing in the world could ever get you down." He looked at his hands, tracing the lines of his palms with an unsteady index finger. "When I saw you again for the first time in years, you looked lost and hurt. You still do. You look as if a wind could blow you away any minute. I'm not saying that I don't love you – because I still do. I'm saying that I want to find out what's wrong with you. I don't understand why you think that no one loves you. I know that your parents can be unbearable sometimes-"

"Don't go there, Arnold," she warned. "You don't know even a smidgen about them, not the 'real' them."

"Okay, so I don't, and I promise I won't ask," he said, raising his right hand with a growing smile on his face. "Campfire Lads' honor." She wasn't amused, and he looked down again dejectedly. "I don't know why you would try to kill yourself. Why would you do that, Helga? Why is it you feel you can't talk to anyone about anything other than school? You have so many friends you could talk to."

How dare he! He'd been gone for years! He didn't know how she was treated after he left. "Friends? What friends?" she laughed miserably. "Phoebe? After she went through puberty, she started hanging around Gerald. No time for Helga anymore. No, not when Helga's so damn moody and crying all the time. And Geraldo never liked me to begin with and even encouraged Phoebe to avoid me. Rhonda? Miss Culture has no time for lowly peasants like me, and her friends don't either. And Harold, Stinky, and Sid have done nothing but torture me since I grew a chest!" she screamed, suddenly haunted by all the times that the terrible trio had confronted her. She began to cry. "You left, Arnold! No one was the same after you left! And they all turned against me. The only time someone paid attention to me was when," she began to tremble with disgust at herself," was when those three tried to grab my breasts! They have tortured and tormented me for years, Arnold…but how would you know?" she shouted. "YOU LEFT!"

He actually looked shocked. "They did that to you?" He calmed down and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Helga."

She scoffed, uncaring. "Did you really believe that people would remain the same after you were gone? They didn't have your direction to guide them anymore, so everyone fell apart. I fell apart." She couldn't talk anymore, her throat ached so. Instead, she rested her head on the bed and sobbed into the covers, letting the soft material hide her tears. Geez, her body felt so heavy, like lead. She just wanted to sink through the bed, through the floor, through the EARTH…to get away. Such an idiot she was! Why did she have to go and tell him all of that? What was it about those eyes that made her lift the weight of the world from her shoulders, if only for a second?

"Do you care if I turn on your radio?" she heard him ask. She nodded, not bothering to look up. She heard the sounds of him standing and the chair creaking, and then she heard his footsteps as he moved toward the window. A switch was flipped, and the room was filled with a sorrowful song. Inside, she felt like dying.

"A billion people died on the news tonight,

But not so many cried at the terrible sight;

'Well,' Mama said,

'It's just make-believe,

You can't believe everything you see,

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight...'"

Why did she always try so hard? Why did she always feel like she had to compromise her true feelings just for others? First, for others' respect, and now, for others' friendship. She had to actually stop being her normal self just so she could be…well, normal for others. Always, she felt like she was killing pieces of her real self just to live.

"I hate me," she whispered to no one.

"Helga?"

"I do. I hate me. No one really knows me. Maybe you have had glances into my soul, but that's all they are. You can't even begin to comprehend who I am." She smiled slightly. "But I wouldn't want you to. I love your innocence, Arnold. I love the part of you that believes in the good of humanity because God knows…I sure can't. That's why I don't understand why you feel you have to know everything about me. Don't you see? If you learn the real me, you wouldn't like me either. Nothing is ever as it seems. Not completely. I'm not the bully, nor am I the romantic poet. I'm sweetness and sourness. My soul is millions of shades of gray. I am ugly, Arnold," she cried. "Ugly throughout."

"Who's the one to decide that it would be alright

To put the music behind the news tonight;

'Well,' Mama said,

'You can't believe everything you hear,

The diagetic world is so unclear,

So baby close your ears,'

On the news tonight,

On the news tonight..."

"Helga-"

Her whole body was shaking, and she was having a miserable time trying to control it. Why did life have to be so unfair, the world so cruel? Why did she have to be born?

The music played on.

"The unobtrusive tones on the news tonight,

And Mama said,

Mmm,

Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die,

At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes;

Mama said,

'It's just make-believe,

You can't believe everything you see,

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight.'"

She sniffed back more tears and coughed. "Arnold, please just hold me. Hold me as if the wind is going to take me away any minute."

He did so, and nothing had ever felt more wonderful or satisfying in her whole life. Her body gave off one last violent shake, and then the tears fell. And it was unlike anything she had ever felt.