That's Not My Name
At birth, she could not fight it, because she was too young to recognize or understand it.
By age four, she was sent home from kindergarten when she answered every question on her rudimentary spelling test with her own name.
By age twelve, she painted her name on her bedroom wall. The pink paint from her sister's room eradicated any evidence of it by the next day.
By age fifteen, she dropped the 'Pataki' and resolved that she would only be known for who she really was.
But at twenty-one, after being coaxed to return home from college for Spring Break, the pink sign above the door infuriated her. Before knocking, Helga ripped the offending title from one end of the sign and carried it inside.
Walking past her parents, seated at the breakfast table, she stuffed the paper down the kitchen sink and turned on the garbage disposal. Two watched in horror, and one in amusement and the name 'Olga' whirled and disappeared to the sound of shredded paper, down the drain.
"Hey Olga! What's the big idea!" her father asked, standing up.
Helga slowly turned, staring at her father eye to eye and answered. "That's not my name."
This is my first 200 word drabble, and I think I like it, even though the idea has been expressed a thousand times. In all honesty, I wrote this for many reasons:
1. I'm completing this next chapter of 'It's Only Life', and I needed a break from writing about Bob and Helga not screaming at each other.
2. I went over my friend's house and she played this song (it's by The Ting Tings, by the way, and very addicting), and all I could think of was 'This is so Helga!'
3. Upon leaving my friend's house, I found that one of her neighbors had my car towed, because I parked in their spot. So, I was in a pretty awful mood last night and most of today. My car has since been returned (not without a hefty fee), but…it was a pretty crappy night.
In addition to writing this, I wrote a pooey-type oneshot for FictionPress, which I may or may not finish/post. Still deciding. Thanks for reading!