Scream 4: Indianapolis

Time: Monday Night

Scene: Frema and Useless Clutter's Apartment

It's 7:30 p.m., and Frema has just come home from a mentoring session with Annie. Tired from staying up late the night before, she is anxious to change into her pajamas and perhaps maybe dabble in some dip of the spinach and artichoke variety. Eyelids half closed, these are the thoughts running through her mind when she unlocks the door to her apartment. The lights to their newly decorated Christmas tree are on; Frema tilts her head and releases a happy sigh at the idea of peace on Earth and goodwill towards men. All should be quiet, as Useless Clutter is participating in the first night of his evening temp job. But what's that noise? The alarm clock? Could Useless have overslept and missed his first night of work?

Frema makes her way to the back of the apartment to the bedroom, where the alarm is set for 6:45 p.m. She turns off the noise and then turns her head. Why is his sock drawer sitting in disarray on their bed?

Frema is very aware now that something isn't right. A cold rush goes through her body as she slowly works her way through the apartment. The garbage can lid is up. Kitchen cabinets are ajar.

There's a good possibility a manevolent stranger is taking refuge in her pad.

Frema barely refrains from wetting her pants as scenes from Halloween, Child's Play, and Pet Sematary race through her head, and she hesitates at the doorway of each room. She resists calling out, as that very act has resulted in many Hollywood characters meeting their maker prematurely and with lots of blood. She does, however, turn on each light and investigate each space: behind the shower curtain; inside the laundry room and the hallway closet. She cannot bring herself to crouch down and check under the bed. She'd rather be knifed in the ankles then in the face, as her Prada glasses offer no stab-free guarantee.

The check is complete. Nobody is in the house. But that doesn't mean there never was. Frema realizes that Useless could have been kidnapped and tortured into revealing his girlfriend's schedule. He might still come back for her. Maybe to rape her. Maybe to slash her throat or pump bullets into her skin. Frema thinks she needs to get THE HELL out of there.

But first, she turns on the TV. That guy with the mustache from The Insider is talking about some obese woman with a disease that makes her think she's hungry all the time. She has a bad habit of hiding unbaked cookie dough in the soles of her shoes.

This could be interesting. And she IS really tired. Surely the killer wouldn't arrive in the next half hour, she thinks, and settles her bottom into the softest spot of the couch.

Later, Frema will learn that Useless made it to work unscathed. However, he did have some trouble finding his ID.

End Scene

Comments

[Luke]

I also mistakenly reset the alarm to PM instead of AM after taking a nap.

[Liz]

That's hilarious. :-)

Last night I took the dog out for his last bathroom break of the night. Suddenly I was sure, sure, that someone was crouching behind a car across the street, watching me. I ran up the stairs and through the front door, slammed it & locked it. Panted. Swore to the dog that I would protect him. Peeked out the window and saw that it was just an empty Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket rolling around under the car. Felt very foolish.

[Sambo V.]

Wow! What a great story! ;) I would like to see a picture of your Christmas tree Frema!!

[Sambo V.]

I saw the picture on Luke's blog...LOOK'S FABULOUS!! ;)

[Molly]

For a few moments, I thought that the burgular or hobgoblin messed with your blog too, as this entry showed as a sort of a mirror image on my screen. However, now all is right.

Did you grab something like and shoe or a baseball bat to bean the intruder? Years ago, I sat on my bed with a high-heeled shoe in hand to get the culprit that stole Miles's three tires in case they came back for the fourth tire.

[Lisa]

I've been known to wander my apartment, large knife in hand, turning on every light and opening every door. At least once a week. I have a total paranoia about intruders.

[Mark]

So funny! Glad you're alright!