Catastrophe on Oak Island

Oh, boy. Where to begin with this one? Let's see…I was writing another story that I've been trying to write, for, like, a year or more. I had the whole plot planned out in my head, but it wasn't flowing from my head to my hands to the keyboard. The writing seemed forced. I was also trying to write another story that was a Buford/Isabella friendship story that just never flowed out, either. Then I had a different Buford/Isabella friendship story idea…and then a Phineabella story…but neither really seemed worth writing. And THEN I thought, "Oooh, I bet I could combine them! This could totally work!"

So…yeah. I'm starting this story. I don't know if I'll actually have time or motivation to finish it, but I'm making an effort to get back into writing.

Anyway, here it is. I hope you like it.

Chapter 1 – What the heck spurred this?!

From the Desk of Isabella Garcia-Shapiro

July 8th

Dear Phineas,

First, I have to apologize. I know yesterday was the actual anniversary, but I honestly completely forgot. I ran into Baljeet at the grocery store and he reminded me. It seems like it was so long ago…heck, it's been close to a year since I've seen Baljeet. The old gang just doesn't hang out anymore. We barley even talk. We're all so busy and it still seems awkward to talk to any of them.

Well, except for Buford, I suppose.

Wow, that seems so strange to say. It's so hard to believe that, out of all our old friends, BUFORD, bully, tough guy Buford, is the only one I still regularly talk to. What with Ferb in England having totally isolated himself from his old life, Baljeet teaching at college, Candace finishing up law school – Jeremy finally proposed, by the way. I told him he shouldn't have waited so long, but he wanted to give her ample time to recover after...what happened. She never really did, but I think being engaged has actually helped her.

Where was I? Oh, right. Yes, with all of our old friends scattered, busy, and basically afraid to speak to each other, it's so hard to believe that Buford is the only one I can still talk to. We have lunch together all the time. In fact, after…what happened…having his friendship is basically the only thing keeping me from going insane.

I sort of had a little snap a few months ago. I, uh, went a little bonkers. I'm really embarrassed to tell you about it, but, all things considered, I guess I can tell you anything.

I blanked out while driving home from work one day. I didn't lose consciousness or anything like that. I was still driving safely, I just wasn't really aware of it. I guess I'd compare it to being hypnotized. Anyway, what snapped me back to reality was a song on the radio. Gitchy-Gitchy Goo, what else? (I still can't believe some stations still play that.) It's been years since I've heard it, or even since I've thought about it.

And I just lost it.

I went to the nearest bar, started drinking. I drank for hours, practically blind drunk. After hours of drinking, the bartender cut me off, so I smashed a bottle and…uh…threatened to slit my wrist with a piece of the glass if he didn't give me another drink. Thank goodness it just happened to be the place where Buford and his new buddy (who happens to be his boss. Not really important, just mentioning it) like to go have a drink after work. Buford rushed to me, grabbed me by the shoulders and yelled at me, trying to snap me out of it. Then I threatened to cut him instead, so he knocked the glass out of my hand and slapped me on the cheek.

Ha. That sure worked. Yup. Buford has really been a savior for me. That is SO weird to say!

I've been okay since then. Funny, that was the first time in my life I ever touched alcohol and I haven't since.

Anyway…

I still think about you. Always. Sometimes I try to push you out of my head so I can focus, but you just won't go away. I've tried to let you go, but I just can't. And then, sometimes, I don't want you out of my head. Old feelings die hard, I guess.

Sometimes I wonder if you succeeded. I wonder if you ever did find Perry. I wonder if you're still out there somewhere. I've wondered if maybe somehow you found a way back, but lost all your memories and started a new life somewhere else. I've made up so many scenarios in my head about it, but the fact still remains that you aren't here.

I was so hopeful that you'd find a way to get back. I look for you every single day, hoping that somehow you made it back.

But you never did.

My words still stand, just as they always have. I only wish I could have had a chance to say them to you in person.

I love you, Phineas.

Your friend always,

Isabella plucked a tissue from the box on her desk and wiped away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. When she had brought her shaking breath under control and had calmed down, she reread the letter. By the time she had finished, her cheeks were soaked again. Ignoring the dampness in her eyes, she picked up the pen again and signed her name in the blank space at the bottom.

Isabella.

She folded the letter in thirds and placed it in an envelope, licking it and sealing it. On the front she wrote no address, and she placed no stamp. She wrote only a name.

Phineas Flynn

Letter in hand, Isabella went out to the backyard of her childhood home where she still lived with her mother. From her pocket she removed a cigarette lighter. She had only used it four times since she'd purchased it. As she had four years in a row on this date, she flipped open the lighter and ignited the small flame. With a heavy sigh, she held up the envelope, touching the fire to the corner. The flame tickled the paper until it caught, and she watched it slowly begin to consume the envelope, creeping across to the other side. When she could no longer hold it without burning her hand, she let it fall to the grass and stared at it as it burned until it smoldered itself out. Her tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped onto her shirt, soaking the fabric.

"Phineas…" she whispered. "Why?"