A/N: I feel so loved. I'm lucky if I get this many reviews on one whole story! Thanks soooo much, guys! And just so you know, I would NEVER let Arnold kill himself. The hinting of it in the story is just to add more drama/angsty things into it. So no worries there anymore, I hope. I also wanted to let you know that I'm trying my very hardest on this fic and so if I don't finish it (I and really do hope I will) please don't be mad at me. I usually wrote my whole story out on word, section it into chapters, and THEN post it so I can post a chapter a day. But on this, I'm writing chapters as I go, so…yeah. Well, I started writing this chapter in study hall and I think it's coming along great. Will most likely be my best yet! Well you've surely had enough of my babbling, so on with the chapter!

Chapter 3 – A Forgotten Holiday

Arnold walked in the front door of his house with his head hanging low. He paid no mind to his grandma, who was hunting down a fly in the hallway, and walked up the stairs to his room. It had started to rain lightly on his skylight as he entered his dimly lit room.

"Everything's so gloomy. Especially me," he said in his head.

The first he noticed when he took the first step into his room was the empty space next to his parents' photograph where he had the journal placed the night before.

He put his book bag in the corner by his computer desk and went back out of his room.

In a few seconds, Arnold was under the little door that lead to the attic. He pulled the string and the ladder came down far enough for him to climb up. When he reached the platform, he pulled an old chair out of a dark corner and in front of a bookshelf. Arnold stood up on the chair and took hold of a small box and carried it down off of the chair.

Back in his room, Arnold sat on his bed with the box now open and in front of him. All of the familiar papers, photos, and brochures looked up at him with bright colors. Most had large letterings that read sayings along the lines of, "Welcome to San Lorenzo!" or "Plan the perfect vacation to beautiful San Lorenzo."

But right on top of all that was Arnold's favorite toy: the remote control airplane. Arnold took his hat off and observed it carefully, as if it were to shatter or drop from his hands at any given moment. He smiled with a mixture of sadness and happiness in his eyes and he placed it back on his head. Like his hat, the toy airplane was given to him by his parents on his first birthday.

He took out all of the ads and papers out of the box and started reading and looking through all of them. Even though he had looked at them when they had been given to him or when he found them, he felt like reading them again. It seemed to him that every time he looked through them, something that he didn't notice before he would find.

Three hours passed while Arnold looked through everything in the box when he finally looked up and saw that the rain had stopped. He decided to fly the plane for a little bit and then put all of the stuff from the box back onto the bulletin board. So he grabbed the plane and control, and then climbed the little stairs up to the roof.

Once outside, he felt the cool, fall breeze whip across his face and play with his hair. The sky was still a bit dark from the passing rain and he looked down at the far away ground from the rooftop. The whole setting seemed familiar to him, yet he could not figure out why. But just then in his mind, he heard a very faint voice yell, "What are you deaf?!"

He shook his head and claimed it was just his imagination. Arnold sat down on the rim of the roof and sat the airplane down in front of him. With a little trigger of the joystick, the plane took off into the air above him. He watched it soar above the boardinghouse and then pushed it to the right. Then he pushed it down and saw it dive close to the street. He let it hover for a few minutes and brought it back up and let it fly just an inch above his head. As it zoomed past his head, he felt the wind from it come over him.

Arnold flew the airplane in loops and turns for ten more minutes before landing it perfectly in front of him.

"Even after five years," he thought, "this thing still flies like brand new."

Arnold remembered how when he was four, he and his grandfather had tweaked it and made it flyable. He picked it up and climbed back into his room through the glass window.

He laid the plane along with its controller on his bed by the box. He picked up the box and was about to start pinning the papers up again when there was a knock on his door.

Arnold looked up in surprise. "Uh, come in," he said to the unknown person behind the door.

His grandpa peeked in and saw Arnold carrying the box that was once in the attic a day ago. He smiled and came fully into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I see you're putting all of your parents' stuff back up again," he said in an almost excited tone. Arnold had put the box on the desk and sat down on his bed.

"Yeah. I figured that trying to forget about them wouldn't work anyway. I mean, they are my parents. No one can forget about their parents," he replied as his grandpa brought a chair over to the bed side and sat backwards on it.

"That's good. Well anyway, the reason I came up here was to ask if you gave out the invites to you party tomorrow."

Arnold looked at him with a puzzled look. "Huh? What party, Grandpa?" he asked his shocked grandfather.
"Arnold! How can you possibly forget your own birthday?! Remember? You're turning ten tomorrow!" he practically yelled at Arnold.

Arnold's eyes bulged at the realization. He had forgotten his birthday over all that had been going on! "Whoa! Grandpa, I totally forgot! I can't believe I forgot! I guess with all that's happened, I guess I got caught up in all of it. Wow, I'm glad you reminded me!" Arnold exclaimed, still mentally slapping himself for forgetting such a thing.

He ran over to his backpack in the corner and opened the smallest pocket and pulled a pile of envelopes tied in red string out of it. He looked at them.

"There's no use passing them out tomorrow, since it's gonna be tomorrow. I'm surprised Gerald didn't ask me about it. I'll just have to call everyone tonight." And with that Arnold dashed over to his phone and started going through his list of phone numbers and began making calls.

Phil sat on the chair and watched his grandson without saying anything. He slowly walked out the room without Arnold noticing.

Arnold looked at the first number on the list: Gerald's. Then Phoebe, Helga, Sid, etc. He hastily began punching in numbers and looked up his to see that his Grandpa had left. Arnold looked back at the list and heard Gerald's 'hello' come over the phone.

"Hey, Gerald…"

A few blocks away, Helga sat in her room and laying on her stomach on her pink  bed. She kicked her feet back and forth in the air without moving her head. In front of her, lay an old, brown book opened to the first page. On the page held a paragraph of neat handwriting and at the top was a beautiful drawing of an ancient temple surrounded by mountains and trees.

A/N: So what did ya think? Please tell me by reviewing. Flame if you want. And great big hugs to anyone who reviews at all! Just kidding…J