Slumber Party Horrors

Dreaded Home Reunion (Part 15)

Mrs. Marque was very confused, and anxiety arose in her chest as she drove her minivan down the road to home. The charcoal candy paint of the police cars grabbed at her eyes, and the crime scene investigators glancing the cameras at her front porch were all so confusing. As she drove closer to her home, she made an attempt to pull in to the driveway, but an officer threw himself into the view, prohibiting her from driving up any further.

"Ma'am, you cannot enter this zone! It is a scene of a brutal murder!" the officer said as Mrs. Marque rolled down the front window. Her eyes gazed back and forth across the property. Her heart seemed to jump into her small throat as she noticed the yellow crime scene tape.

"What happened?!" she demanded of the officer.

"There has been a murder here, Ma'am. Is this your home? What is your name?" the officer asked her, his voice hard but not overbearing.

"Yes!" she shouted, unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing it over her shoulder. "I am Scarlett Sabelle Marque. The late Stephen Cain Marque's wife." She grabbed at the doorknob to open up her car door, but the officer that was initially in front of her car ran to the car door and held her back.

"You can't go into the house, Ma'am. I already told you, there's been a murder," the officer said.

Sweat dripped down from Mrs. Marque's forehead and her knees felt weak as her brain processed the word "murder." She hadn't thought about it the first time he spoke it. She had thought her middle-aged ears were beginning to hear things.

"I NEED to get to my babies! My babies!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her curly silver hair clung to her sweaty forehead. She had let her children run the massive home while she was gone for the weekend. She knew that her children, who were legally adults, were capable of holding down the house, no matter how big it was. Entrusting them was something so big and important as the mansion was something she knew she could do. However, she expected to come home to a house littered with party lights on the front porch and plastic flamingos stuck in the green grass by the back porch.

"There were no infants in the house, and the victim was not an infant either," the officer replied.

Another officer, one more tall and lanky came over to the officer speaking with Mrs. Marque. He introduced himself as Officer Doors.

"Officer Doors," he said. "Your children are not here anymore. We took them both to the hospital. One of them has a broken foot, and the other is paralyzed. Completely. I'm sorry, Ma'am."

Apparently, the rest of the police force had no idea that Samuel had died in the hospital.

"Which hospital?" Mrs. Marque called, ready to tear at the officer holding her back.

"California State Hospital," Officer Doors answered. "I'll get someone to take you there."

~

The screams of Mrs. Marque seemed to echo throughout the whole state of California, and then some. After hearing of the events that had conspired over the weekend since her departure from home, and Samuel's death, life seemed like a completely useless thing to partake in.