A/N: I've actually begun practicing yoga at a local studio, and during the final pose of the class (shavasana) I became enlightened. With this story idea.

Yogatta Be Kidding Me!

Prologue

Helga was used to therapists, doctors, and any other adult with an ounce of authority over her claiming they knew what was best. Ever since she was young, and had to attend school mandated therapy in sixth grade after she not-so-accidentally shoved Thaddues "Curly" Stevens down the stairs and he injured his wrist. It wasn't broken or anything like that, just a small bruise on his bone. He milked the attention though, wearing a brace to school and having all of the girls who hated him just two years prior fawning over him. So really, it was a win-win for Curly. He had the attention of many of the P.S. 118 ladies and didn't have to participate in any physical activity for four weeks.

But Principal Wartz did not see things that way.

Fortunately, she was sent Dr. Bliss, who had offically established her own private practice in Hillwood, focusing on children and adolescents in the inner-city. Dr. Bliss wanted to show children who struggled in school, who acted out out of neglect, who feared their home lives, that there was always a comforatble space available. Most chlidren who entered through the doors of the red brick, two-story home-turned-office were greeted with a warmth previously unknown.

The receptionist, Mary, always dressed in bright, happy colors with equally bright, albeit silly, jewlery. She crafted her own out of items found at dollar stores or in random strangers pockets. She had made her own dice earrings, as well as a statement necklace out of miniature dinosaurs. She smiled and knew every person by name. She also had patients mark their birthday on her personal desk calendar, and on their next vist, they would recieve a handmade card. Helga had received seven, tucked away into the back of her desk drawer for safety.

In the winter, the lobby was decorated with paper snowflakes and a low fire kept the entire building comfortable. In the summer, the windows stayed open and fresh air and flowers filled the rooms. There was an old master bedroom on the second floor that was converted into a homework spot, complete with a miniature library.

Helga regularly visited Dr. Bliss until she was eighteen. Despite making large leaps and bounds in terms of progress, Helga still kept her guard up around her family and friends. Her neglect continued from her parents, who had almost forgotten about a college tuition check and almost lost Helga her spot at Hillwood University. But, after three fights about it, Big Bob finally cut the check and Helga hand-delivered it to the school's business office.

But now Helga was finding herself back in HU Dean Anderson's office for the third time in two months. She was beginning to notice the small changes he'd make between her visits. A new photograph of his family appeared beside his school-provided desktop. His clock was always three minutes fast and he never opened his office windows after 8:30 a.m. His along-the-wall bookshelves were filled with academic journals and books about psychology. He was proudly balding, which Helga found difficiult to ignore-his receeding hairline was hard not to stare at.

"I don't understand what is wrong, Helga. You told me you had been adjusting better to dorm life," he sighed wearily, leaning back in his worn leather chair.

"It wasn't my fault!"

He raised his glasses and the report filed by her college dorm room advisor. "Helga is continually harrassing the other girls on her floor with pranks, causing them to feel unsafe in their own bedrooms."

"It was just one harmless prank," Helga said. "I've been pranked tons of times by the football players on my hall, but no one's giving them infractions!" That was actually a lie. The football players had arrived into the common room drunk and disorderly before flipping all of the furniture over, including the couch Helga was sitting on while her roommate had sex with a fratnerity brother from their Spanish class. She then had to watch in horror as a linebacker dropped his pants and urinated on the communal vending machines.

"I will handle them if I recieve a report on my desk, but until then, Miss Pataki, I have yours. I will be discussing with your RA, academic advisor, and the college counselors what they advise is our best course of action. I do not want to end up removing you from the school. You are an incredibly talented and intelligent girl, and I want you to succeed."

Helga felt a twinge of guilt in her heart, remembering her last session with Dr. Bliss. She had said, "You are so bright, Helga, you always have been. Don't lose your focus or your academic scholarships because things feel overwhelming. Don't forget about what practiices I've taught you for dealing with these emotions."

So pranking the caddy girls on her floor by filling their drawers with glitter, smoke, and cherry popper bombs wasn't the smartest idea Helga ever had. But she did enjoy it for a brief minute.

"We will give you a call with our decision. Until then, keep to your studies and your self, please."

Helga nodded, picking up her messenger bag and letting the office door click shut behind her.