Disclaimer - I do not own Twilight or any of the characters, Stephenie Meyer does.
With a yawn I roll over in my bed to face Edwards beautiful face, his eyes have been growing darker and darker over the past couple of days and I know he's pushing himself to hard.
"Go hunting, your getting grumpy and your eyes are almost black." it comes out as a mumble as sleep threatens to take me at any moment. I'm so tired.
He's silent but I can tell that he's actually considering it.
"Okay. If anything happens you call my cell right away okay?" his lips gently brush my temple and I nod my head.
"Sleep well my love" he whispers into my ear, the weight of his body leaves my side and I can hear the window slide shut just as sleep overtakes me.
BANG.
What the hell was that?
BANG.
Who's shooting guns?
BANG.
This time the loud noise pulls me completely out of my dreamless sleep, I roll over to see what the noise is and suddenly the beds gone.
"Isabella darling what are you doing on the floor?" Isabella? Darling? It sounds like Charlie, so I lift my head off the wooden floor and pull my sheets back to look up.
Sure enough, Charlie is standing at my door a look of pure amusement on his face. Somethings different.. what is with his clothes? I mean I know Charlie doesn't have the greatest taste in fashion, but what he's wearing is looking a little dated.
He raises his eyebrows at me and I quickly shake my head
"Er.. I fell. Who's trigger happy?" another bang has emanated from somewhere and I decide that right now isn't the time to question my fathers fashion sense.
He looks rather taken aback but chuckles as the phone rings downstairs, with a glance behind him he shakes his head.
"The U.S military are testing some of their new weapons not to far from the farm." he sighs "Now who could be calling so early?" he mumbles to himself before turning to catch the phone before whoever it is hangs up.
Gingerly I pick myself up off the floor and test all my limbs, everything seems to be in working order so I proceed to place the sheets back on the bed.
Wait a second.
Weren't my sheets a completely different color when I went to bed last night? Wow I must have hit my head pretty hard, I mean the sheets didn't just change themselves. I must have been sleep walking. Yeah sleep walking, we'll go with that.
I eye my sheets with confusion before I turn to grab my little bag of bathroom toiletries. That's when I stop.
There before me where my old dresser used to be is a small vanity desk and mirror. Placed ever so neatly atop the table are different types of perfume, a hand mirror, and a small silver hair brush the kind of things you'd see if you lived way back in the early 1900's. I swallow and shyly step towards the small table where I pick up the brush to examine it. Its well made the silver is polished and the bristles feel almost like... well not like the bristles of the brush I used to have. Out of the corner of my eye the small hand mirror catches my attention so I gently pick it up afraid that I might break it. The back is smooth and just as shiny as the brush, a small half swirl design sits in each of the four corners and the end of the handle is slightly thicker and wider than the thin handle itself. My thoughts begin to wonder why Charlie would switch my dresser for a vanity, and why I hadn't woken up when he had done this. Slowly and unthinking I flip the mirror over to look at my reflection and gasp, dropping the mirror in the process where the impact shatters the glass. I skitter back and bump into the something hard and solid yet soft all in the same.
Strong hands place themselves on my shoulders and in one swift movement have pulled me back away from the shattered glass. The strong hands spin me gently around and I come to stand face to face with the broad chest of a man.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you ." The voice is so familiar. The man stretches his arms out and steps back a few small paces to look into my face.
"Are you alright miss? Would you like me to call a doctor to come look in on you?"
My eyes take in the man that stands before me in his U.S military uniform, his question goes unanswered as I gaze over the many buttons and bland green color of the uniform.
"Laurent" I gasp as my eyes finally reach his broad strong face. His eyebrows raise and he merely chuckles to himself.
"Ah, so I see your father has already told you my name." He looks a little uncomfortable but he merely stands at attention and salutes me.
"Private Laurent Gautier of the U.S army at your service" his face goes stoic and after a few seconds of my silence his eyes flit to my face and the somber look is cracked with a small grin.
My eyes blink rapidly and I giggle at his playful nature. Its nice to know that Laurent wasn't always a cold blooded murderer, I sigh inwardly and my brow furrows at these thoughts and the very young Laurent clears his throat in uncertainty.
With a small smile I curtly nod my head and both our gazes cast down towards the shards of glass that litter the light wooden floor of my small room.
"How about I get this cleaned up and you go get yourself dressed" he's already grabbed a small hand broom and dustpan from the hall closet, before I can even protest he shoos me towards the closet.
"Thank you." Is all I can manage as I've just opened the door to my small closet. The clothes in here are not what I had in my dresser. Wait... Where did this closet come from? My heart begins to speed up and the panic starts to set in as my widened eyes sweep over the many dresses and high heeled shoes that are staring back at me. This has got to be a joke. A sick cruel joke. They can't possibly expect me to actually walk in these things do the?!
From behind me I can hear the soft clinks of the glass being poured into a trashcan somewhere in the bedroom. Suddenly Laurent's arm reaches past me and he pulls out a skirt and jacket combo
"I think you should wear this." he whispers into my ear making me jump at his closeness.
This is just getting awkward and very very weird. Where is Edward? Why is Laurent human? What year is this? Where am I?! my thoughts are running a mile a minute so all I can do is nod my head before taking the beige jacket and skirt into my own hands. Realizing that I will need a shirt I quickly grab the first one I see and hope that it matches, Laurent steps back to allow me to leave and I nearly run for the bathroom. Once in the small room I swiftly shut the door and close the bolt to lock it. Bolt? Why is there a dead bolt on the bathroom door? So many questions that I want answered and yet I have no one to answer them for me. With a frustrated grunt I reach down and yank the long nightgown over my head which has definitely raised another question. Instead of trying to figure everything out I quickly throw my outfit on and, with a deep breath, come stand in front of the mirror. The initial shock has slightly worn off as I look over the short haired girl in the small oval mirror above the basin like sink.
What happened to my hair? Why would I be crazy enough to cut it this short? Before the tears can make their way down my cheeks there's a knock on the bathroom door.
"Isabella? Darling I need to speak to you." Charlies voice floats through the door thus halting whatever tears threatened to fall.
My eyes begin to search the air for an answer that isn't there and I gruffly throw the dead bolt back and swing the door open to reveal a rather happy Charlie.
"What year is it?" I demand and my eyes burn into Charlies dark brown happy ones.
He searches my face with a smile but stops suddenly when he realizes I'm not joking.
"1918. Isabella are you okay?" my face drops and I feel like I'm about to be sick. There's no way it's 1918, this really is some sick joke and all I have to figure out is who planned it all.
Silently I nod my head, swallowing the bile that has threatened to protrude all over Charlie.
"You said you needed to talk to me. What is it?" I may as well play along with whatever sick joke this is, no sense in fighting it. I just wish Edward was here. Then it slowly clicks. Didn't Edward say he was turned in 1918? or was it 1914? Why can't I remember?!
"Right! Yes, well how would you feel about visiting Chicago for a little while?" His joy returns and he watches my face, his anxious eyes wait for an answer.
"That would be... Great dad." Maybe I'll be able to find him! A small flicker of hope lights in my heart.
A/N - So another story... This one will most likely only be about 3 chapters. 4 if I feel the need to make it so long. RnR let me know what you guys think!