After about a week of writer's block and other matters to attend to, I came up with the idea for this story today while practicing the fourth page of Chopin's "Nocturne in B flat minor" (Op. 9, No. 1) on my keyboard. I also noticed that the idea for this story would parallel some thoughts and events that are currently occurring in my life, or will happen with short time, so I decided to develop the idea.
And this is the product.
For those of you that were completely shocked by the ending of my previous story, "Hold Out Your Hand," be assured that the energy I put into that story is not the energy put into this new story; that old energy has left me…and be assured that this story has a happy ending.
I DO NOT OWN PHINEAS AND FERB. ENJOY!
PROLOGUE
"Can you look after the house, and after Pinky, while we're gone, Phineas?"
"Of course I can, Isabella."
"Thank you. Mom and I should be back in about five hours. Bye!"
"Bye!"
Phineas closed and locked the front door once Isabella and her mother left the house. He turned around, and he saw the boxes behind them. Many boxes. And the space where the couch used to be. The space where the television set used to be.
Phineas stood alone in the middle of the living room, and he took it all in. The boxes. The empty spaces. The bare walls. They're actually moving…Isabella's moving…
Isabella's mom had recently earned a promotion at work, but it meant moving to a major city about two hours away in order to establish an office where she could work. Phineas was happy that Isabella and her mother would do better now and be more successful, but he was already starting to miss them, most especially Isabella.
Although unaware of it in a conscious state, Phineas had a gut feeling, deep down, that he liked Isabella as more than just a friend, but he never had the chance to say anything to her about it. And considering that the last day of moving was today, Phineas was getting very anxious and nervous in trying to figure out how to communicate his feelings to her without adding an element of awkwardness to their friendship…he also wondered if she liked him…
Phineas pondered over all of this in his head, and he began to pace. Three steps one way, three steps in the opposite direction. He began to talk aloud…
"So, five hours in this house, alone, looking after the house."
A high-pitched bark is heard.
"And Pinky.
"Well, here I am in a house of good memories, of a best friend, and she's moving today…and I don't know if she likes me at all…I mean, we've been friends since we were little, but has she ever liked me in that time? Now? I wish I knew…I think I'll just move around for now…"
Phineas noticed the staircase and its wooden banister. He ascended the staircase and walked in the small hallway on that floor. He looked down at the floor as he walked, and he walked into something. Rough, yet wooly and with a straw-like texture. Brown.
"A rope…huh…"
Phineas pulled the rope down, and a small door in the ceiling opened downwards. A rope ladder also collapsed and stopped in front of Phineas. He began to climb…