Disclaimer: I do not nor have I ever owned Carrie.
Notes: Review and constructive criticism is welcomed.
Laughter:
I thought I was dying.
I did, I really thought I was dying. The blood was just coming out and there was no wound. I had been feeling a little off the last couple of days. A little more emotional and sluggish but I didn't let it bother me.
My mom never told me much about things like the female anatomy or make-up or tampons. She considered almost everything that had to do with growing up and becoming a woman sin. I never knew, I just never knew. When I saw the redness on my hand I panicked and did the only thing I thought I could. I ran to my tormentors for help. I, of course, didn't get the reaction I'd hoped. The called me named and threw things at me and started chanting "Plug it up! Plug it up!" Then they did the one thing I hoped they wouldn't have done. They started laughing. I hate that laughter. That taunting and insulting laughter.
A few days later it came again, that fucking laughter! Once again, I had redness on my hands. Except I knew where it came from and it coated my body like the shame I felt. Everyone was laughing, even the one person I trusted the most, Ms. Desjardin. Tommy was on the stage floor with a huge gash on his head but no one cared. They just kept on laughing.
I don't know when that laughter turned into screams or when the gym became ablaze with scorching flames. It was overshadowed by the dull roar in my head. As I walked home, all I could feel was the laughter licking at my back and the screams in the distance. And when I got home, there was nothing but silence.