Okay, so I was watching The Polar Express and this came to my mind. Enjoy!

Phineas Flynn laid in his bed, waiting for the one sound he loved each year. He was asleep to anyone who looked at him. But he secretly was awake. He sighed and looked around the room again. When would Ferb be back? He'd been gone for so long.

"Don't be silly," he thought. "You know he's not coming back. He's dead. He left you."

His brother had died three weeks ago. After Ferb had been diagnosed with a rare brain tumor, the two brothers had slowly drifted apart. It was as if they wanted nothing to do with each other. To make it worse, it had happened around Christmas. What a horrible time of the year for a family to break apart.

Phineas had cried for days after Ferb died. They may have only been step brothers, but their bond proved they were much more than that. Life seemed to go on. Phineas got over his brother's death. Lawrence secretly mourned the loss of his son. Linda barley said anything about Ferb now. And Candace... She gave up trying to bust the two boys.

Everyone blamed themselves for Ferb's death. Some more than others. You would think Phineas did right? But no, Isabella was the who saw herself mainly responsible for the horrible thing. She had tried so often for Phineas attention. And now she would get it. Just not in the way she ever hoped.

It was the night before Christmas, and no this isn't that poem. It's the story of a girl and a boy, that the girl loved so much. The boy had a passion. Two if you looked closely. She thought he was oblivious, he just thought she wasn't impressed. He strived to please, she stived to shine. In the end, they both failed. Summer ended, fall faded, winter came, spring left. Summer was back, yet no one smiled. For that boy cried for the one he loved so much. His brother, his best friend, his other half. That same girl walks in, with a trademark smile and a familer catch phrase. Yet when there's no reply, she opens her eyes to a dead backyard. Her smile fades, her eyes dim. Her dream lover is dead. She's known for so long this small, tiny fact. Yet she still can't bring herself to believe. So she'll curl up, under the tree, where two boys used to sit, laughing, inventing, smiling. Those boys are gone now, so is that tree. Yet as she passes the backyard she'll pause, to hear the sound of laughing, inventing, and sometimes, just sometimes, smiling.

So yah... That's the closet for a romance story you'll get from me! Night!