Here's an update to whoever is reading. Please review if you want an update. Ideas are welcome and needed. =)
January 27, 2004
"I'll take the boy." A cold, expressionless older woman said to the social service worker. The woman was Liza Moyenne. The great aunt of Marque Isidore.
"I have some papers for you to fill out." The worker rummaged through his desk.
Marque sat in a corner with his hands folded in his lap. A frown etched his pale face as he studied the two adults across the room. Dark circles were visible beneath his eyes from lack of two nights sleep.
The clothes he wore were as dark as night matching his equally naturally black hair. He didn't feel like happy colors after what had happened to his parents. They were the only souls in the world he knew. He had no friends or any relatives aside from Liza Moyenne.
What did his future hold now?
"Marque?" Aunt Liza's voice snapped him into the present a few moments later.
His chocolate brown eyes looked up slowly to meet his aunt's.
"Come with me. I will take you home." Aunt Liza cocked her head toward the office exit.
Marque rose up slowly. He tried not thinking about how he didn't have a home anymore.
His hand came up to touch two rings that were on a golden chain. It was his Papa and Maman's wedding rings. He took them after the firefighters and police investigated the house.
The cause of the fire was reported as bad wiring. The Isidores hadn't the money to replace the electrical wires and had asked Liza to help them. She had declined and it cost Michael and Diane's lives.
Marque followed Liza Moyenne out to the black Cadillac awaiting them. The chauffeur had been waiting patiently and opened the doors for them.
He stayed as far away from Liza as physically possible on the way to her manor. The woman kept glancing over him with an icy look.
-an hour later. The arrival at the manor-
"Now Marque I have some ground rules for you to abide," Aunt Liza announced as they entered the giant house.
Marque stood straight and tall as he stared up at her.
"You shall not call me nothing but Madame Moyenne while I have visitors or at any time for that matter. Do not speak unless spoken to. I do not want to see you unless I've requested your presence. You may use the music room and any other rooms except my office which is forbidden. Break these rules and you will be punished." Aunt Liza said before clapping.
A maid shuffled in the foyer quickly curtsying stiffly. "Yes Madame?" the maid nervously glanced to Marque.
"Show young Monsieur Marque his quarters," Aunt Liza said with a flick of her hand. "I shall have you get a new wardrobe tomorrow. I hope the clothes you are wearing suffice. We do have a funeral to attend later today." She added.
"Ye-yes, Madame Moyenne," Marque stuttered slightly.
The maid signaled him to follow up the winding staircase. He went up not one but two flights of stairs before the maid stopped at a door on the end of the hall.
"This will be your room," said the woman as she pushed the door open and flicked the light switch.
The room was very cold and dark. Much like his mood. The light in the room was very dim.
Marque stepped in and looked around. There was a small unlit fireplace. The room seemed to be partially for storage. There were some pieces of furniture covered with white sheets. The bed was over by the window. A writing desk was on the opposite side against the wall.
The maid picked something up off the mantel of the fireplace and stooped down.
He realized she was lighting it for him.
"There that should be better," the woman exclaimed placing the pack of matches she held back on the mantel.
Marque sat down on the bed. What was he going to do in this oversized house with such an ill-mannered aunt?
'Don't ever forget to practice the piano, Marque. Someday you will be a great musician but only if you practice as you should.' He could hear his Papa's voice tell him as he did ever so often.
Marque smiled softly, feeling a tear leaking from his eye. He didn't try to stop himself from crying. Life was never to be the same again.
-Three hours later-
"Marque, it's time to go. Are you ready?" Aunt Liza called up the stairs with a huff.
Marque didn't answer and simply started down the stairs. He didn't feel like talking. He had cried himself to sleep.
Aunt Liza had a scowl on her face as she took in Marque's disheveled appearance. "You could have at least brushed your hair couldn't you?" She tapped her foot on the ground.
Marque's hand came up to touch his hair. He ripped the hair tie holding back his shoulder length black hair and redid it with a jerk. He still didn't make a sound.
"Come along," Aunt Liza said in a long suffering tone.
Marque followed along of course but his focus was off somewhere else.
The funeral seemed to last forever.
Instead of two caskets there were two small bottles of ashes. The bodies of Michael and Diane were no more than ashes by the time the firemen had gotten to them. It made Marque sick to think about it.
He stared there for the whole ceremony even though he was only half there. All he could hear were his parents screaming in his mind. He was being tormented by the pictures of the fire. It was horrid.
At the graveyard he couldn't take it anymore and ran to the car.