The thought just came to me. I'm sure we've all wondered about M, who he is and his life story. He's so mysterious. We wonder why he wears black and why he doesn't talk much.
This is his story written originally by me. All plots belong to me.
I've based this loosely off the M in Everything Can Change. So his name is Marque Isidore in this story. So now when you read Everything Can Change think of this as his background story.
I've started off with M's age being 10 in the start of this story. At the end of the story he should be 18. =)
No copying allowed.
'The Secret Life of M'
January 25, 2004
"Marque, come away from there," a gentle feminine voice called across the room at the piano.
Marque Isidore was staring out the window with a very thoughtful look on his face. The window seat was the young boy's favorite place these days.
"I'm waiting for Papa to get home." This was quite true indeed. Michael Isidore, his Papa seemed to always be away most of the time. He was quite famous throughout France for his musical abilities. He did many concerts. Marque begged to come with him many times but Michael had always made him stay home.
Michael had told him little boys didn't need to bother themselves with concerts and needed to study school. Marque disagreed whole-heartedly with that fact. The ten year old didn't think of himself as a little boy. He rather accompany his Papa than study math, science, and wars.
"Your Papa won't be back for another hour, Marque. Come practice your piano lessons," Diane, his Maman gestured to the piano she sat at.
"Why should I practice when I won't ever go to concerts with Papa?" he pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window.
"You will when you are older, dear heart," Diane began to play an aria as she waited for Marque to come back.
"Why don't you go with him?"Marque turned around to look at his mother with a frustrated look.
"I used to go with him every time but when I had you I decided to stay at home." Diane's fingers stilled on the keys.
He sighed and got up. Doing his lessons would at least pass the time.
-An hour later-
"I'm home!" a familiar voice sounded in the foyer.
Marque shot up quickly from the piano bench excitedly. His Papa was finally home!
Diane laughed softly and followed after him.
Michael was just hanging his coat when Marque flew at him giving him a bear hug. "How's my little musician?" Michael asked. He glanced at Diane with a glint in his eyes.
"Practicing," Marque said with a smile.
"Only when I make him," Diane announced giving her husband a kiss.
Marque made a face at their romantic display, "But I've been keeping my grades up."
"Atta boy," Michael high-fived him.
"Any visitors today?" Michael asked as they walked into the living room.
"Just your Aunt Liza. That woman drives me mad sometimes. She was talking about her will today and specifically told me that we weren't included." Diane crossed her arms.
"That doesn't surprise me after how we ran off and got married without her permission," Michael sighed as he sat down on the couch with Marque beside him.
"But that was eleven years ago! Couldn't she forgive us by now?" Diane flounced in the wing chair with a frown.
"That woman has always been like that. Don't take it personal. She's never liked me very much. She conceited and bitter about Uncle Joseph's death." Michael looked over to Marque like he was wondering if the boy shouldn't be present in the conversation.
The Isidores weren't very rich in spite of Michael's concerts. They didn't make much money. Michael's Aunt Liza was a very rich lady and lived in a manor house while he and his family lived in a small one story brick house.
Aunt Liza had decided to disinherit Michael and his family when he married Diane without the aunt's approval. But Michael wasn't a bit sorry only that he worried about Marque's future.
It was silent for a while.
"Would you like me to fix you something to eat?" Diane stood up a few minutes later.
"That would be nice," Michael answered with a nod.
Marque sighed. It was nice to have his father back for a while. He wouldn't go on another concert for a month. That meant days spent on end Marque and his Papa would play on the piano. Michael would show him different techniques and teach him different compositions. Marque couldn't wait!
Marque's eyes snapped open suddenly. Something was off and it was unnerving him. It was really hot in his room when it usually was chilly.
He looked over to his alarm clock and saw the time. 3:43 a.m.
He got up from his bed quickly to investigate. Maybe Diane had turned the heat on too much. He better had turned it down. Marque creaked the door open and froze in horror at what he saw. Huge flames were licking at the walls and smoke was everywhere.
"Papa! Maman!" Marque screamed. Panic gripped his heart. What if they couldn't get by the flames and perished?
He shot through the flames ignoring the painful sting of being singed and ran into his parents' room.
"Maman! Papa! Wake up. The house is on fire!" Marque ran to their bed side to shake them awake.
"Mon Dieu sauvez-nous!" Diane screamed as she saw the flames outside the bedroom.
She and Michael got out of bed in an instant.
"Marque! Go now while you still can!" Michael yelled over the roaring of the fire.
"No!" Marque cried out. He didn't even want to think about leaving them.
"We're right behind you son," Michael pushed him into the hall.
It was than a mighty crack was heard and a beam fell in front of the bedroom door.
Marque whipped around and to his horror saw his parents trapped in the room. There was no way for them to escape alive.
"Get out of here now!" Diane screamed in terror. She gripped Michael like he was her life guard which at this point he was.
"No!" Marque screamed. "I won't leave you behind!"
"Go son, make a life of yourself! Get out while you still can!" Michael yelled.
With a sob Marque ran just as another beam fell. He cleared it just in time before it blocked his way. He grabbed Michael's cell phone that lay on the table near the door.
He dropped on the ground when he ran as far away from the house as it was safe. With shaky hands he called the fire department. He kept his voice composed even though he felt like he was breaking to pieces.
Suddenly there was the sound of glass breaking and Marque looked up to see both his parents beating the windows in their bedroom with their fists. Glass was flying everywhere. Their fists were bleeding and they were screaming in agony. It was useless to even try to get through the windows. They were made with bars covering them.
Marque was suddenly numb to everything as he watched his parents perish right there in front of his eyes. Their screams slowly died to nothing and he knew they were dead.
When the fire fighters came to douse the fire he still sat there. Life didn't seem to matter anymore.
Review if you want more. I want to know if I should continue the story. Is it good enough?