The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25[dot]com

Prompt: Gymnasium

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

Thanks toLittleRedScientist for helping beta this for me and Jenequilter for her prereader skills.

Chapter 9 – Pomp and Circumstance – Gymnasium Prompt

"Good morning," Alistair sang from the door, striding in and opening the curtains with an exuberant swish of his hand. "You're looking pretty good this morning Isabella. I think today might just be the day."

Rolling onto my side and shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun I grumbled a hello, inquiring what made today so special.

Of course, as was par for the course he didn't reply to my question, just moving about the room and chattering cheerfully to himself.

If I didn't know better I would have guessed the guy had gotten laid or something with his out of character pleasant demeanor.

"I'm going to leave you for a bit. I'm sure your visitor will be along shortly."

Shaking my head, I had no idea what the hell had just happened. I wasn't sure if I was still groggy with sleep but it seemed like Alistair was actually in a good mood. How could that be? He'd always been curt, bordering on rude, and today he was acting like Mary Poppins or something.

I stood up stretching my tense muscles when my mind drifted back to my midnight caller. Sitting back down on the corner of my bed I sighed heavily, wishing he was here keeping me company.

But he wasn't.

And I could only wait until he hopefully returned tonight.

Hell, I didn't even really have any concept of time here. I only assumed it was night when he visited but I supposed the curtains might have just been shielding the light?

Now even I was confusing myself.

Glancing around my tiny room I had the distinct feeling that something was different. Spinning my head around everything appeared in its place, but there was that nagging sense that I was missing something.

After a few minutes of trying to figure it out I decided to just let it go and went back to being fixated on why I was destined to forever walk the afterlife alone. It felt like it was inexorably connected to my life. I didn't have anyone when I as alive, so why would I have anyone now?

And that was when I noticed it. Well, that was when I realized all was quiet. The sound of the ocean had gone silent.

Eerily so.

Looking out my window all I saw was the blinding sun, no sandy ocean, no water.

What the hell was going on?

I was so confused; my body began trembling as if I was freezing, my pulse swooshing noisily in my ears.

Fear caused my blood to run cold.

Then I heard it.

"Hi baby," My dad's voice calling to me, loud and clear.

I looked around the cottage but he wasn't here.

"Daddy?" I shouted, whipping the door open seeking out his voice.

I still didn't see him and I began praying that if there was a God in heaven that my dad still be alive and well, and not already in this celestial existence I was stuck in.

I was running but getting nowhere when the scene abruptly changed. I was now standing in the Forks' gymnasium surrounded by a sea of black and yellow cap and gowns.

And there I stood on stage in the ugly school colors, giving my salutatorian speech. I remembered the day vividly, Ashley Stevenson won the valedictorian award but had come down with a bad case of food poisoning the night before our graduation, and I'd been asked to step in and give a speech in her place.

Of course rumors at the time suggested she was more likely either recovering from a massive hangover from parting too hard the night before or she was knocked up. As it turned out, the Most Likely to Succeed winner that year had indeed been with child, whom she conceived with the Class Clown of that year. I never really did find out what had happened to the couple once they moved away to Seattle after they graduated.

Glancing back towards the stage I remembered how completely unprepared I was, yet somehow had managed to deliver a thoughtful and eloquent speech with only twenty minutes to prepare.

I watched as my teenaged-self continued on giving advice to all my classmates about never giving up your dreams and that anything was possible if you were willing to work for it.

What a crock of shit advice that turned out to be, I thought bitterly, when I heard it again.

"I was so proud of you that day."

There was Dad sitting near the back with my mom, his face pressed into the camcorder, recording it all for posterity.

Not that I ever watched it again.

"I always knew you'd make something of yourself. You always were so driven. Your nose in a book so often I thought you were going to go blind."

I smiled wistfully at the memory of how I'd even walk home from school reading and more often than not, would collide into something at least once every day because I was so absorbed in whatever story I was reading.

"I know things have been tough lately—"

What?

Spinning around, I was still imbedded in my high school graduation and couldn't figure out why my dad was talking about things being bad?

"You know you can always come and live with us until you get back on your feet –"

My vision was going blurry, the scene of graduation was fading in and out, and images of my cottage, the beach, and meadow were all morphing together and then apart like some bad LSD trip or something.

Closing my eyes tight I tried to imagine falling into the blackness of night, hoping that perhaps when I reopened them I would be back nestled in my comfy bed at the cottage.

Instead when I slowly allowed my eyes to open, I was bombarded with a light so bright I might as well have been looking directly into the sun.

I repeated the process over and over again, slowly opening my lids only to shut them tight again. My head ached, probably from nearly burning my retinas, but every time I heard my dad call out, "Isabella, wake up baby." I had to try to find him, no matter what.

Groaning, I lifted my hand to try and shield my eyes but it was stuck, like I was tied to a marionette stick.

"Alistair, call the doctor, I think she's waking up," my dad shouted before a flurry of activity could be heard around me.

"Daddy," I called, but felt like it was merely a whisper lost among all the other sounds surrounding me.

"I'm here baby, open your eyes."

At his coaxing, I did.

Allowing my eyes to acclimate to the blinding light, I found myself lying in a bed in a stark white room and my dad was sitting by my side, beaming brightly.

"Welcome back sweetie."

A/N

Okay – that would be part 1. The rest will come tomorrow. Would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter.