Disclaimer: For the last time, I do not own Twilight. :)

AN: Chapter fourteen! Here it is! I must say, I quite enjoy this one, and I'll talk more about it later. The one thing I will say is that, although I've been trying to keep the timeframes the same between the chapters of "Believer" and this one, I decided to split the events that take palce during the BPOV chapter 14 into two chapters, as much more happens to Edward during this time than Bella. :D

Now, before I let you read, I just have a bit more I want to say, so PLEASE READ:

First is, as always, a giant thank you to my reviewers! But, I have noticed that the site is having some review problems, I think. I've recieved email notifications for several reviews that do not appear on the site, and that the site will not allow me to reply to, but that are included in the count of the number of reviews I've recieved. Curious. Anywho, I'd like to thank those reviewers, as I can't thank them personally, and here I will answer queries raised in those reviews:

sanders61584: "any ideas for your next story?" I'm not sure what exactly is up next, but I have a few things that I want to work on. I'm thinking of a sequel, possibly two, for this story, I'd like to work on "When you get to keep an angel with you", my Rosalie/Emmett story some more, and I also have an idea for a Carlisle/Esme AH in the back of my mind. So we'll see!

And, Klutzy-Side-of-Alice: well, I think the answer to your question is in the chapter. :) (yes, that was what I was already planning) :)

And, at everyone who reviewed, wether the site recognized it or not, a giant thank you!

And NOW, I'll let you read chapter 14. :)

This first thing I noticed as I left the big white house, and started floating up, up, up, was that I wasn't alone. The first other person I saw was, naturally, my mother, but I don't think she saw me. While I was drifting along, pulled by the inexorable force, she was veritably shooting upwards, an exalted smile on her face. Finally, she was free. Free, and eager to leave this earth. Whereas for me, the beginning of my freedom was feeling more like a prison sentence.

It was about then, when the houses and even cities of the earth were only tiny dots below me, that I noticed the others. They had the same foggy, transparent quality to them as my mother and I, but that was seemingly the only thing they shared with each other, or us. They were as varied as people were on earth, even more so, because of the odd waylaid spirit like my mother and I. Even in my current mood, my natural curiosity got the better of me, and while one part of my mind was still back in that little yellow room with the only girl I would ever love, another part was looking around me, and trying to see how many different decades of clothing I could see. I swear I saw someone in full shakespearean garb, neck ruff included.

I've read different descriptions of what it's supposedly like when one "goes on", and I'd just assumed that I would continue ascending until I got somewhere. The pearly gates? But only minutes after I'd left earth, everything just disappeared. Light, sound, colour, everything. I was just alone in the blackness. But despite this, it didn't really feel as alone, as panic inducing as one might imagine. Simply a sense of calm settled over me, and although I remembered that there was something, something important I should be remembering, something upsetting, something I'd lost, I couldn't quite grasp it. I could remember that I'd spent a long time on earth after my death, but that interim time was fuzzy. Was this, then, on?

Then, suddenly, after an interminable period of waiting, out of the seemingly endless darkness, a voice boomed. "NEXT!"

With that, as abruptly as the darkness had appeared to envelop me, it disappeared. Instead, I was now standing in a circular room. It was what would be a fairly standard, normal office, if not for a few things. First, the giant picture windows on either side of me showed not a cityscape, but a magnificent panorama of clouds. Secondly, the man sitting behind the polished mahogany desk, clad in a long, flowing white robe, had large feathery swan's wings sprouting out of his back. Actually, the longer I was there, the more I realized that it was not commonplace in the least. Apart from the windows, the walls were covered in doors, six in all, each marked with a glowing golden number, from one to six. Then, the whole room was white, but rather than a stark, industrial white, it was soft, and seemed to glow, sparkle, and morph in front of my eyes. As I was watching, doors three through six changed back and forth from seemingly solid wood to glass, or simply air. Before my eyes, a door sized window appeared where door number four had been. Behind it, I could see what appeared to be some sort of garden, in which a woman and man, also clad in the white robes and sporting wings where standing. They turned then, and I realized with a shock that they bore the faces of my parents.

Just then, the man at the desk interrupted my ogling. He was consulting an enormous roll of parchement in front of him, and read off of it "Edward Anthony Masen?"

I nodded. As soon as I'd arrivied here, everything had come back to me, and most of my mind was still in the white house.

"Only son of Edward and Elisabeth Masen?" he questioned again.

"Yes."

He nodded, then consulted his list again. "Door seven," he read in a bored face.

What? No, I needed door four, if I needed anything! That's where my parents were. Anyways, "There isn't even a door seven!" I exclaimed.

He sighed. "Yes, there is. Behind you." He motioned for me to turn around, and I did. There, exactly opposite the desk, was another door. It was set apart from the others, but otherwise looked the same, right down to the golden "7" on the door.

"No, you don't understand," I protested. "I can't go there, my parents, there must be some kind of mistake, but they're behind door four!"

"I'm sorry," he shook his head, and consulted the list again. "It says here door seven. I obey the list. NE-"

Then a horrible thought occured to me. "It's not- I'm not- I can't go to h- What did I do?"

Though I'd barely been able to get a coherent sentance out, he seemed to understand me. "First of all, calm down." He let out an exasperated sigh. "No, it's not Hell. Actually, we don't really like to use that term. As you can see, there are several options, once one leaves the living world. Yes, some of them are disciplinary, correctional, or, perhaps, a chance for one to redeem onesself. That would be doors one, two and seven." As he said this, I realized that those were the doors that stayed solid, and did not allow a glimpse of what was inside.

But I wasn't as much concerned with that, as the fact that my door, door seven had been listed as disciplinary. "But-"

He held up a hand. "Wait, let me finish." He was being very patient with me, but I could tell it was costing him. "The other doors," he continued, "doors three through six, are what you would consider the traditional Heaven. There are four options, because Heaven is not the same for everyone. Sometimes one is given an option, or they are assigned to a specific door. It all depends." He could tell I was about to interrupt again, as, although interesting, this still didn't concern me. "let me finish. So, to reward a life well lived, yes, a person will be granted admission to one of doors three though six. But, sometimes, a person, we feel, deserves rewarding beyond that, for some exceptional good deed, or something similar. And that," he pointed at me, "is why you have been assigned to door seven."

This wasn't adding up. "But you said door seven was also correctional"

He sighed, clearly wishing I would just leave. "It can be. It can be many things, depending on one's assignment there. Yours is not a punishment. Well, it's not meant to be, at least. There have been. . ." he trailed off, shaking his head as if to dispel an unpleasant memory. "but never mind. Yours is not a punishment."

I mulled this over. "Assignment. . . Where exactly am I going? What's behind door seven?"

He smiled. "Earth." he replied simply.

"Earth? When?" An idea, a hope, was forming in my mind, and I desperately tried to beat it back.

"For you, present day. That is, the nineteenth day of the month of August, two thousand and four years after the time of Jesus Christ."

I still tried to be distanced, clinical, as I posed my next question. I couldn't allow myself to think of this hope brewing in my mind. " Alright. You said what it is depends on our assignment there. What's my assignment?"

He consulted his list again. "Isabella Marie Swan."

Isabella Swan. "Bella? My assignment is Bella?"

"Yes," he answered, seemingly pleased. "So that's a good thing. I'm glad. As I said, there have been some-"

"But wait," I just thought of a hitch in what he was staying, although I was somewhat afraid to voice it aloud. "You said that this was a reward for an exceptional good deed. What did I do to deserve this?"

"You? Oh, you didn't do anything. You're just lucky. No, Ms. Swan's good deed was. . ." he shuffled through more paper "ah, here it is. She "helped a wandering spirit to achieve piece." Well, that is a big one. Definitely deserving. And, it seems here, that the reward that Ms. Swan would consider most valuable is a certain Edward Anthony Masen, aged seventeen, made fully human and mortal. And so," he pointed at me, "we deliver."

The reward that would be most valuable to her. So she did love me! She must! It was incredible, impossible, but she did! I had to confirm it, though. "Are you sure, sure that's what she wants?"

"For the last time, yes. We're not wrong. And now, could you please be on your way? Door seven. Everything's set for you. I don't really have all day, you know."

I was only too happy to comply. "All right."

And so I turned, grasping the handle of the door marked with the golden seven. I didn't know exactly what would greet me behind it, but knowing that Bella would fit into it somewhere was enough.

As I opened the door, the last thing I heard from that brilliant white room was the loud, gruff cry of "NEXT!" and I was gone.

AN: Well, there it is. :) I hope you liked that one, I rather did. It's a little different, I think. I felt as if it had a bit of an HP-ish feel. But that's cool, because JKR is a genius, so I wouldn't be surprised if she inspired me a little. :) So, yes, also, obviously, this is all fiction, and not even really what I believe. But I do find different fictional descriptions of heaven are interesting to read, like "The Wish List"(excellent book, by the way.) and, of course, this description fit my story. :)

So, I hope you enjoyed, and, as always, please rrrrrrrrrrrrreview! :D

-SkySong