My apologies about the missing words for the last chapter, I updated it so it should read much smoother now. This is from Helga's perspective, the italics are the flashback and is from the perspective of a third-party narrator. I have a clearer vision for this story now. I do not own Hey Arnold.
Chapter 2 (Helga perspective):
Beep… beep… beep… I hear the medical machine continually run like some sort of Chinese water-torture device.
Helga ole girl, how did you get in this mess? I look around the small room with its egg-shell white walls, brown floors that mimic wood and the fluorescent lighting that turns on what seems like every half hour for some staff member to come in and do some menial task.
I look at the hospital bed with its coarse sheets and plastic frame that probably costs 3x more than my car. I see my reflection in the mirror through the open bathroom door to my left. My face is tired, eyes have bags under them, hair matted. I look as I always have. Ugly, unappealing. It's no wonder why I am in this mess and why no one has come to visit me or inquired of my whereabouts.
As I fully embrace the futility of my situation, I feel a sadness overtake me. I am no stranger to this feeling, which perhaps makes this thought even more depressing. Depressing. Depression. Maybe I do belong in here. Maybe I can get help. After all, I haven't been the most mentally sound person for the first quarter or so of my life. In fact, I bet I meet several of criteria for DSM V conditions.
I recall my conversation with the medical student. Wasn't the first time someone feigned interest in my pathetic life and I doubt it will be the last. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have admitted so much to a complete stranger. However, I am not really in the position to be shooing away people who, genuine or not, say they believe my side of the story.
My side of the story.
How did I get here.
I think back to what set of this chain of events.
An aide enters, asking for my lunch order. I request a cheeseburger and fries, best to play it safe with fried food.
Now where was I?
Oh yes, I was explaining about how I got in this quandary.
Knock…knock. A fist taps on the screen door to my room. Ah, it's Mr. Locker, back for more eh? The psych team led by Dr. Mehta, a short Pakistani woman, rounded on me earlier in the day and he mentioned he would return later this afternoon. Oh how time flies when you're having fun.
"Miss Pataki? Long time, no see. How are you?" Josh asks me.
"TV seems to be stuck on Lifetime." I respond frankly.
Josh chuckles, "That is unfortunate. Anyways, I came back to hear more of your story. That is if you're up to sharing more?"
I mentally weigh the options. On one hand, I could jerk this guy around, feed him some mumbo jumbo crap while he tries to "fix me". On the other hand, he seems nice enough, no ulterior motives to speak of, after all he will be rotating to another place in a few weeks so it's not like I'll every see him again. Plus on the off-chance he can actually get me out of this nut house without being zonked out of my wits on antipsychotics then it might be worth it to shoot straight.
I opt for door #2.
"Ok, Josh. I'll tell you. But same rules apply. Keep those loose lips zipped, capiche?"
"Of course." Josh says as he sits in the chair adjacent to my bed and I prop myself up on a pillow.
"It all started…"
Coming home from James A Garfield High School, Helga Pataki was having an exceptional day. She had just submitted an English paper that had been months in the making. Although she had no doubt this paper would receive a favorable grade, this was not the reason for her uplifted spirits. Earlier in the day, she had shared a long anticipated conversation with a certain football-headed boy. This football-headed boy wasn't quite so football-headed anymore. In fact, one could say he was normal-headed. Standing at about five foot eight with a standard build, Arnold Shortman had grown into a fine young man. He was a member of the forensics team and a solid varsity football player. By no means was he the most popular boy in school, but he was well-liked by the majority of his classmates. In contrast, Helga Pataki had not changed as much in appearance as Arnold Shortman had from their childhood. Helga Pataki stood an intimidatingly six foot one and had little extracurriculars to speak of. She was no beauty queen what with her unibrow, unflattering if not sensible wardrobe, her pale complexion, rail-thin frame, and long blonde hair which she often wore in a pony tail. Her face was not much different from her childhood face, just on a larger canvas. She retained many of her same physical features but her temperament had calmed considerably. Electing to be more the wallflower than tank. This change was a welcome one to her old classmates, including Arnold.
Over the past few months, Arnold and Helga had begun an uneasy friendship. It started with the end of football season. Arnold no longer had morning practices for football so he began walking from Sunset Arms to school and his route took him alongside Helga.
At first, Helga tried to ignore Arnold's attempts at small talk during their shared walks. While she was still hopelessly in love with her football-headed muse, she was petrified of being rejected for the third time. After a few days, Arnold's company proved too enticing to ignore and she began to engage in pleasant small talk with her first love. Arnold, for his part, was not completely oblivious of Helga's feelings for him. At the very least, he knew she no longer hated him (she gave up the bullying act around middle school) and that she may even like him. He did not, however, comprehend how deep those feelings went.
Weeks passed by and it became custom for them both to eagerly anticipate these walks together, to and fro the great James A Garfield High School. Until one morning…
Arnold, dressed in a red plaid shirt and khaki pants, walked next to Helga in her gray hoodie and loose blue jeans addressed his companion with earnest, "Good morning, Helga!" as he stood on her front porch.
"Crimeny football-head, only you could be this chipper on a Tuesday at 7:30 in the morning." She responded with a playful smirk.
"It's a beautiful morning, Helga." And it was, a crisp Indian summer morning, unusual for this part of the country.
"Yeah, yeah.." She hopped down the steps and they began their trek to school.
"So, Helga…"
"So, Arnold…" She matched as she met his soft green eyes which she had to look slightly down to see.
"I've been thinking… well… we've been having a lot of fun on these walks everyday for what seems like a month now." He ventured, feeling nervous for what he was about to suggest. After several days of contemplation, Arnold decided he would like to get to know this girl better. After all, she may have a reputation for being somewhat closed-off but what he glimpsed insider her shell, he liked. She was sweet, nice, funny, smart, and attractive in her own way.
"Yeah, we sure have bucko, what's it to ya? Gettin sick of little ole me already?" She asked with a hint of nervousness in her voice. She would be the first to admit behind closed doors that these past few weeks had reignited in her something she thought she would never experience again. Growing closer to her muse had inspired her, she had begun writing poetry again. For so long she had carried her torch for Arnold silently, now at long last she was growing close to him again and the prospect of losing him was terrifying.
"No!" Arnold exclaimed, a little too quickly after hearing that from Helga. "What I mean to say… is… uh… well… you see…"
"While we're still young Arnold." Said Helga as she tried not to seem too desperate while waiting on baited breath.
Arnold steeled himself, after practicing in front of a mirror all last night, he forced himself to ask this lanky and volatile girl the question that he had been dwelling on.
"Helga," Arnold stopped walking and grabbed her by the elbow to which she met his eyes. He would not be mesmerized by her piercing blue eyes, he would do this properly. "Would you maybe like to get something to eat or see a movie or both sometime? I know you really enjoy horror movies and there's a good one we could see on Friday. Gerald already took Phoebe to see it and they really enjoyed it. We could go as just friends." Arnold was speaking at a breakneck speed but what he just tacked on at the end, he saw caused Helga visible disappointment. Her shoulders slumped and eyes blacken in anger mixed with embarrassment. Embarrassed that she once again let this boy control so much of her life.
Arnold, for his part, quickly recovered, "NO!, No. That is not what I meant." He grasped both her shoulders firmly and looked right into those piercing blue eyes. "Helga, I would like to ask you on a date, not as friends but because I want to get to know you better. I'm sorry, I just got so nervous."
Helga barely registered anything her boy-angel said after the word "date" was uttered. She about died right then. Sensing her jaw was ajar and that she was still staring at him, Helga quickly stuttered out a response before Arnold could retract what he said (not that she thought he would ever do such a thing).
"Uhhhh… I mean, sure! Whatever floats your boat, hair boy." Helga tried hard to conceal her elation, but a broad grin erupted on her face. She couldn't help but notice that Arnold was grinning as well, which only added fuel to her smile.
Over the next hundred yards until they reached their domain of higher learning, the two ironed out the details for this coming Friday night. Arnold would pick Helga up in the Packard and they would eat at a local café then head to an 8:45 showing of the movie. They formally exchanged phone numbers and engaged in an awkward hug/handshake hybrid. Oh well, have to start somewhere.
Making physical contact with Arnold within eye shot of their classmates made Helga exceptionally tense; however, she quickly noticed that no one really cared. It is high school after all and people tend to greatly overestimate other's interest in their lives.
Knock… knock, this noise pulled Helga from her reminiscing. "Miss Pataki, here's your lunch. Cheeseburger with fries. Enjoy." Stated the overworked employee.
"Interesting… so would you like to take a break or continue?" Josh questions diplomatically.
"I'm on a roll, Joshie my boy, lets keep chugging." As I take a bite of my cheeseburger.
That is it for now. Please let me know your thoughts. Will try to get update out soon.