The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25[dot]com

Prompt: Tropical Isle
Pen Name: Mcgt
Pairing/Main Character(s): Bella
Rating: M

This will be a multi-chaptered story.

Photo prompts can be viewed here: thetwilight25[dot]com/round-six/prompts

A/N

Thank you to TwilightMomofTwo for her amazing beta skills and to Jenequilter8 for prereading this for me. Any additional mistakes are all my own.

This story is going to be a bit of a mystery, allow it to unfold & hopefully enjoy. I really love where this is going, so hang in there with me, okay?

I'm hoping to post two chapters a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays until May, and then will increase the frequency as the deadline approaches.

Summary: Sometimes when your life is all going downhill, the only place left to go is up. What if that place isn't exactly where Bella thinks? Perhaps, a more heavenly destination instead? A story about life, love and redemption.

Celestial Countenance

Chapter 1 – Tropical Isle – Where's the Light?

You know when people say you see a light at the end of a dark tunnel after you die? That there's an angel there to escort you to the pearly gates, and all your loved ones that passed on before you are waiting with their faces squeezed in to the bars like a jailhouse welcoming committee?

Well, my experience wasn't like that at all.

In fact, I'm still pretty fuzzy about what really happened. One minute I was lamenting my life, how the downturn in the economy had really hurt my tiny bookstore café along with my shit-ass ex-boyfriend who'd left me the previous week, taking all my life's savings with him.

I'd been hoodwinked into believing that Eugene Aronofsky, or Aro for short was my soul mate. He was the perfect gentleman. He liked the same things I liked. Got along with my friends, and even my mom, who doesn't like anyone, thought he was great. All that ended quickly when I went to my little apartment and found it in shambles. My TV, my computer and anything else that had any value to it was gone. Along with all the money I'd been saving to finally buy a house and make the necessary upgrades my little store needed.

Poof.

Gone.

No note, no nothing.

My dad, a retired cop, was angry at himself for not seeing through the guy. The police said they'd seen similar cases in the last few years; cases that involved men who targeted a very specific type of woman. I listened casually as they continued rambling on and on about the types of victims selected for these schemes, still convinced that I was too smart to fall victim to someone like that.

Lonely. Check.

Introverted. Check.

Naive. Check.

Easily manipulated. Check.

Too trusting. Check.

Overwhelmed. Check.

Gullible. Check.

Inexperienced with men. Check.

Looking for someone to take care of them. Check.

Each time a new adjective was used to describe another victim, I retreated further and further into my shell, knowing everything they said was true. I was all of the above. And because of that, my life was ruined.

I'd spent the bulk of my adult life focused on one thing: getting my little shop up and running. I worked seven days a week, and only took the major holidays off. Even on those days, though, I thought about the store.

I poured in all my blood, sweat, tears and ultimately every spare penny I had. The only exception was the ten thousand dollars I had sitting in my bank account waiting for me to find the perfect little house to buy. With the recession, I had narrowed down my choices and was only a week or so away from buying something when Aro took it all away from me. He knew once that money was gone; I would be essentially flat broke until I could rebuild my nest egg. Apparently he didn't want to be left empty handed and took off just as we talked about maybe moving in together. I'd completely forgotten I gave him the Pin to my account when he went to the grocery store for me the previous week. It never occurred to me that giving him that type of access would be my doom.

Bastard.

I didn't really have friends whom I could call and ask for help. I liked Angela and Esme, but I would never feel comfortable telling them all about my problems. I was their boss, not their gossipy best friend.

Ever since my dad had gotten hurt on the job, my parents weren't much better off than I was right now. I didn't need them digging into their retirement fund to help their stupid daughter.

I had been raised to be proud and independent. I couldn't handle the world knowing what I fool I'd been; I was so embarrassed by my poor choice, my vulnerability, hell - the whole situation. Running back to my parents was so not an option.

I remembered sitting in the window booth in my little café, after closing time trying to figure out how I was going to pay my next bill, my rent, my suppliers, my two employees and which one would be lucky enough to be paid first. On top of that, how I was going to survive if I went bankrupt? That led to the idea that perhaps life would just be easier if I just stopped living all together. Say, crawl into a hole where no one would miss me and sleep off the rest of my days.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Here's where things got a bit cloudy. I remembered grabbing my ledger and my purse, thinking I should probably head home before it got too dark out for the long walk home.

Yes, walk.

The bastard had even taken my car, which they found stripped sitting in an abandoned warehouse parking lot near the Port of Seattle. The insurance company was still working that out, but since it was an old Honda, I doubted it was going to be worth much when they finally did come to a decision.

My life was just a ball of sunshine and a basket full of kittens, right?

But that was then.

Now?

Now, I find myself strolling on a beautiful white sand beach. The warm salty wind blowing through my hair and I'm more relaxed than I think I've ever been.

Yep, this apparently is my version of heaven.

It makes sense that after living in the rainy Pacific Northwest for the majority of my life, heaven would appear like a tropical isle. While I can't exactly remember what happened in between me being pissed at the world and me finding myself in the great beyond, I am thankful one of the myths about eternal life was right.

I met an angel. A rather cantankerous one, but an angel all the same.

He appears before me, a hulking sort of man who seems to be glowing from within. His dark hair shines in the bright sunlight, and his eyes are a deep sparkling blue and are shockingly beautiful against this dark coloring.

"My name is Alistair and I'm here to take care of you," his booming voice calls out to me from across the sandy expanse.

"Where am I and what am I doing here?" I ask, or at least I thought I did. Wherever I am, it appears like you can speak telepathically or something because it feels like this Alistair angel guy is speaking from right beside me even though he's still yards away.

"It seems you have little regard for your life… Isabella Swan. You're lucky. It could have been much worse if that incompetent dolt Marcus had been assigned to you." His slight British accent is bordering on being snotty and condescending, and it irks me that it feels like he's speaking around me, rather than to me. But since I'm obviously stuck with him, I have little choice but to listen to the man and hopefully learn what I am doing here.

"I certainly hope you develop a better sense of self-preservation than you've had in the past." His deep voice rings in my ears.

Looking up at him, his train of thought confuses me. If he isn't going to explain anything to me, then I might as well make myself comfortable. If I was dead, I really wanted to get on with my afterlife, especially if it included piῇa coladas and a body that would never be sunburned again.

I mean, I wanted a way out from all of my problems, and it seemed like God had answered my prayers. Now if only I could get a cabana boy to deliver me cocktails, and maybe a good massage, it really would be heaven.

Just as I laid down on the comfy chaise lounge overlooking the crystal clear blue ocean, I was interrupted by Alistair.

Of course.

"Well, you'll soon come to find out that perhaps you were all wrong about your life. It is, after all, all about perception. And unfortunately for you, I have a feeling it was a rather skewed one at that. Now if you'll excuse me, your first visitor has arrived. How lucky for you."

A/N

Okay- that's chapter one. And relax, I know after my recent string of fics about the afterlife, this one isn't going to be angsty or make you cry. At least I don't think so. I'm already up to chapter 8, so hopefully I can keep up my pace. Next chapter on Tuesday, pending any beta issues.

As always, leave me your thoughts, theories, and questions. If I can answer them without spoiling the story, I will. And since I ACTUALLY have the next chapter written, I'll send you a teaser if you want too.

And for any of my Behind the Velvet Rope readers, chapter 7 is currently with my beta. Shocked? Well, it is and I will post it as soon as I get it back from her and I promise it won't be another three months between updates.

Thanks & hope everyone has a nice weekend, Passover, Easter, etc.