Authors note: For those of you that have read the Luxe, this story is based off of that book because I love it. It wont be exactly the same but the similarities will be noticeable so I'm gonna give credit to Anna Godbersen and Stephenie Meyer, even though this isn't a cross over in any way. You don't need to read the Luxe to understand this. P. S, this is just the prologue, just to see if people react well. Alice in Wonderland was a dud so I thought I would give a new story another shot. OOC and AU
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all.
On the morning of November 13th, 1899, Isabella Marie Swan- eldest daughter of the late Mr. Charles swan and his widow Mrs. Renee Higginbotham Swan-left the lustrous city of Manhattan and passed to heaven. Services are to be held tomorrow, Sunday the eighteenth, at 11 a.m at the Grace Episcopal church at No. 900 Broadway.
- From the obituary section the Manhattan gazette. Saturday, the 14th of November, 1899
Isabella Marie Swan was known for many things in her lifetime, her beauty being one of the greatest. Coming from an elite family, others were shocked to find that not only was she beautiful in every way possible, but her character was impeccable. She was selfless and had many of the morals that most girls in Manhattan lacked. If she could have descended from her perch in heaven, she would have seen all of Manhattans elite families gathered to mourn her death, just as they had done for her father not so long ago.
Broadway was crowded with carriages being drawn by black horses and people dressed just as darkly, large black hats covering their mourning faces and black robes to show their despair. Yes, the Swans were very well known in the upper east District of Manhattan.
It seemed as though all the beauty had vanished with Isabella, as the entire city had woken up to damp weather, frigid temperatures and leaden skies. There was no reason for the world to be beautiful, since the brightest light had disappeared.
In they came slowly, police blocking off the street from the rest of the publics prying eyes. In first came Emmett McCarty, son of Peter McCarty and Helen McCarty. Emmett was publicly infatuated with Isabella, proposing to her on multiple occasions, her answer always ending in no. He finally realized after some time that he would settle on a friendship with the girl and that was all they were meant to be.
He was a handsome boy, debonair and well poised. His dark pelt contrasted nicely with his pale complexion and chocolate eyes. As all the other ladies, Isabella saw his beauty, but never felt attraction. He was an avid polo player, always competing in heated matches whenever the opportunity arose. He was just one of the pallbearers, carrying Isabella's mahogany casket with a grim expression.
Following Emmett was the ever so quiet Jasper Whitlock, a distant friend of Isabella but still considered a peer. He had danced with Isabella one time or another at a social gathering but they never spoke when it wasn't necessary. He too was handsome, his face slightly younger than most, though he was the same age as Isabella. After Jasper was Michael Newton, a long time neighbor of the Swan family and finally, Eric Yorkie, another long time dance partner of Isabella.
With downcast eyes, they patiently awaited the arrival of Edward Cullen, who joined them last. Gasps could clearly be heard, as not only was he usually bright eyed and drinking, but he was a pallbearer on the day he and Isabella were to be wed. It didn't seem at all fair.
The casket was placed into the horse drawn hearse, Edwards's lips constantly in a thin line as the pallbearers completed their job. The sobs were audible but had no effect. They wouldn't bring Isabella back. Nothing would. Not a single soul would ever stroke her soft skin or look into her chocolate eyes. Her beauty was gone.
Completing the funeral cortege was Isabelle's mother, her light eyes rimmed red with tears. Her hair was in curls at her shoulders and her hands enclosed in dark gloves. Though her mother was beautiful, Isabella had inherited her appearance from her father, Charles Swan. Isabella's youngest sister, Alice, was most like Mrs. Swan. Mrs. Swan proceeded down the aisle, letting the small, black vale shroud her face.
They and everybody else at the funeral couldn't help but wonder where her body had gone. It had yet to be recovered from the Hudson river, despite the best efforts of the mayor.
Wearing their sadness well, everybody soon gathered in the church and the funeral proceeded on.
"We are gathered here with today with heavy hearts-," Reverend Weber began once all were in their seats. He was interrupted by the ornately carved church entrance being thrown open by Alice. She seemed to be the only one in the room that did not have glistening tears streaming down her ivory cheeks.
Only Isabella would ever know why.