Awakening

Prologue

Unsuspecting

Miss Desjardin

It truly had been a wonderful night. She wasn't typically prone to romanticism, but she had to admit that there was a certain magic in the air. It was the first dance Rita Desjardin had ever chaperoned, and although she started the evening with a fair amount of trepidation, things had really turned out nicely. Mr. Morton, the assistant principal, had expressed some concern that there might be an issue with prom crashers this year. Three students had been denied their prom tickets, but only one – Christine Hargensen - was viewed as a potential problem. She was nowhere to be seen, though. Sure, there were some of the usual issues that always plague school functions, but by and large it went without a hitch. She really was enjoying herself.

While her own prom had hit a number of snags, she wouldn't have traded the memories she had of that evening for anything in the world. Miss Desjardin hoped that she could play a small role in creating something special for the students at Ewen High. From the looks of things, she had succeeded. Everyone was smiling and laughing. She definitely had a case of the warm and fuzzies going on. Besides, it was a rare opportunity for her to wear nice clothes and hit the salon. Being a gym teacher wasn't exactly conducive to high fashion and she did notice the looks she got from some of the boys. She was wearing a beautiful silver sheath dress that hugged her figure in just the right places without being too clingy or revealing with a matching set of kitten heals (which were now starting to hurt). She couldn't remember the name of the shade of white-silver polish she had on her nails, but promised to stop back ask. Her hair was flawless. She was also stunned at how nicely the other chaperones were dressed, although she did think that Mrs. Rennie's outfit made her look a little too much like Misery Chastain.

Miss Desjardin had spent much of the early evening dancing and chatting with her students outside of a gym class setting. This was the sort of thing she had in mind when she became a teacher and was much more pleasant than overseeing detentions and issuing suspensions. It had been a rough year, and she was feeling more than a little drained and discouraged. She was even starting to have doubts about whether or not she was cut out to be a teacher. Tonight none of that mattered. She was having fun with her students and things were perfect. Well, mostly. Samantha McManus had rolled her ankle while dancing to an up tempo pop song with Katie O'Shea and Rhonda Simard. Miss Desjardin had made a mental note to be careful. She didn't often wear heals and really didn't want to trip in front of the entire graduating class.

As good as things were, there was a moment that gave her pause. She had been dancing with Jessica Upshaw and her date, Frank Grier, when she noticed heads begin to turn in her direction. She knew she wasn't that good a dancer, and although Jessica was, she doubted it was her moves that were drawing all of those stares. Miss Desjardin's heart skipped a beat when she turned and saw what all the commotion was about. Tommy Ross was gently leading Carrie past the photo booth and through the crowd. She was well aware of Sue Snell's plan to give Carrie a shot at being part of things, but was secretly worried that it would do more harm than good. She didn't want to see her get hurt, especially not after what happened in the locker room. Part of her had even hoped that either Carrie would back out at the last moment, or that Tommy would stand her up. She felt terrible about thinking such things, but couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong. Miss Desjardin hadn't always been nice to Carrie, and had, on occasion, thought of her as an irritating cry-baby. She regretted having those thoughts, and seeing Carrie happy – seeing her smile - made her feel more than a little guilty.

Carrie looked absolutely radiant. Her satin dress was a soft, feminine pink and looked as if it was made specifically for her (Miss Desjardin found out later that Carrie had made it herself). She had a matching lace shawl, and a heart-shaped beaded clutch. Carrie had taken Miss Desjardin's advice and was wearing make-up – just enough to highlight her eyes and cheeks. Her hair was subtly styled and her nails were done in a similar shade of pink. Miss Desjardin was almost left breathless. It was as if a transformation had taken place, and in a very real sense, one had. Carrie was visibly nervous, but was soldiering on. Every now and then Tommy would whisper something to her, causing her to smile and blush. When they reached the table they were assigned to sit at, Tommy pulled her chair out for her. He was being the perfect gentleman. Maybe things would be OK after all.

As the night wore on, Miss Desjardin made a conscious effort not to stray too far from Carrie and Tommy. She had given Tina, Heather and the Twins the riot act earlier and was keeping an eye on Helen Shyres. Mr. McGovern and the Boys' gym teacher, Coach Schmidt, were keeping an eye on Kenny Garson and his group of friends. So far, everyone had more or less been on their best behavior. At one point, Vicky Hanscome had to be warned off from approaching Carrie. She had claimed that she was only going to say hello and compliment Carrie on her dress. Miss Desjardin thought Vicky sounded a little too sweet and innocent, but she gave up easily enough. All in all, things were good. Tommy was very attentive and some of the other students were starting to warm up to Carrie. Frieda Jason and Cindy Yang were chatting with her and Norma Watson had actually complimented her on her dress.

Remarkably, Carrie actually seemed to be demonstrating some semblance of self-confidence. Her arms weren't folded over her chest, and she hadn't slouched at all since she arrived. She still had that vaguely baffled look on her face, and her eyes still darted to a fro, but she really seemed to be coming out of her shell. She even made eye contact with those who spoke to her! Miss Desjardin was proud of her. She knew it would be terrifying for Carrie to put herself out there, especially given what happened in the locker room. But here she was, doing just that. She had chatted with Carrie while Tommy was getting them some punch and cookies. Miss Desjardin had apologized for slapping her – for not being as good a teacher as she could have been. She was afraid that she was still angry at her, and she found that she couldn't really blame her if she was. That fear evaporated when Carrie leaned over and hugged her tightly. A strange feeling of warmth settled over her. She knew Carrie didn't like to be touched, and would flinch away from anyone who did. That's what made it all the more amazing when she initiated the embrace.

Miss Desjardin's relief was short lived. Off to one side of the dance floor, Chris Hargensen's friends were chatting together, occasionally looking furtively in Carrie's direction. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but it certainly didn't look good. Her heart sank when she saw them move en masse towards where Carrie was sitting. They seem to have waited until Tommy was preoccupied with George Dawson. Whatever they were up to, Miss Desjardin knew she needed to put a stop to it. The last thing she wanted was a repetition of the incident with the tampons – and there was always the possibility that they collectively came up with something even worse.

Unbelievable! Can't they just leave her alone? Miss Desjardin thought bitterly. Images of Carrie sitting on the steps outside of the gym, sobbing into her hands flashed through her mind. And tonight of all nights! If they ruin this for her, so help me…

She fumed as she worked her way over to Carrie's table, occasionally dodging errant students. If they make her cry, I swear I'll see to that they don't graduate. I don't know how yet, but I'll find some way of doing it.

The girls, led by Tina Blake, had hemmed Carrie in. She was now on her feet, and looked very uncomfortable. It was obvious that she also expected something bad to happen. Miss Desjardin closed the distance, but was too late to catch the beginning of the exchange.

"Oh, SHIT!" Rachel Spies shrieked from the next table over. A full cup of punch had tipped over on its own accord, spilling its contents onto her lap. Her date patted clumsily at her dress until she slapped his hand away.

"I know you have no reason to believe me – to believe us, but we really are sorry," Tina said. She sounded sincere and the other girls in the clique nodded in agreement with her. "There's only a month left before we graduate, and we wanted to apologize for being so mean to you for so long."

"Especially for what happened when you were having your… you know? We should have been more understanding. It was wrong, and we all feel terrible about it," Heather said, placing a hand on Carrie's shoulder.

"We shouldn't have laughed at you," Nikki said.

"And we really shouldn't have thrown sanitary napkins at you," Lizzi added.

"Or chanted plug it up," Nikki and Lizzi said simultaneously.

"And we definitely shouldn't have filmed the whole thing," Tina said, staring at the floor rather.

"I'm sorry about the time I hit you in the mouth with a hockey stick and chipped your tooth," Vicky added, smiling sheepishly.

"H-how do I know you're not just trying to trick me again?" Carrie asked. Her newfound confidence seemed to waiver. Her arms were again folded over her chest, and her eyes were cast downwards. "I really don't want to be tricked. Not tonight, please?"

"We mean it. We all do." Tina was emphatic. "We should have apologized a long time ago. We never should have let it get out of hand like this."

Miss Desjardin couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stood silently behind the popular girls, her fists clenched. She was ready and willing to intervene if they uttered so much as a single unkind word.

"I-I forgive you. I don't like holding grudges," Carrie said softly. "I forgive you."

Tina and the others seemed overjoyed. They thanked her, taking turns patting her on the shoulder and offering her compliments on her dress. Heather wanted to know what brand Carrie's nail polish was and if she had them done professionally. Vicky gave Carrie a hug that looked almost painful – which was somewhat frightening given how lightly built Vicky was. Miss Desjardin relaxed a bit. She still had doubts about their sincerity, but at least for tonight it seemed they would be nice to her. Carrie turned and smiled at Miss Desjardin.

At around 9, the DJ shifted away from upbeat pop tunes towards songs that were more appropriate for slow dancing. Most of the couples were out on the dance floor, gently swaying in time to the music. The other chaperones were circulating around the throng, making sure no one did anything too untoward. Miss Desjardin agreed to take a turn around the floor with Mr. Ullman, but regretted it almost immediately: Mr. Ullman had busy hands. Mr. Fromm had staked out a spot near the snack table, salvaging the last couple of brownies for himself. Tommy and Carrie were dancing together, her head resting on his shoulder. She couldn't help smile at the image. Carrie seemed so secure and happy! It was touching.

Soon the time came to vote for the prom king and queen. Everyone took their seats and filled out the ballots the student council volunteers had distributed. Jessica Upshaw and Frank Grier were the most likely to win. Jessica had been campaigning for prom queen for most of the spring. Although she really didn't expect Tommy and Carrie to win, Miss Desjardin voted for them without hesitation. At the very least she wanted to be able to honestly say that did so. She was happy to see that she wasn't the only one; she overheard Mr. McGovern and his wife discussing voting for them as well.

Everyone was surprised when Vic Moony read the results. Tommy and Carrie had won. It was close, with only a margin of twenty or so votes. The applause was tentative at first, but gradually became thunderous. Carrie seemed the most surprised out of all. Her eyes swam with tears and she trembled as she got up from her seat. Tommy took her hand and guided her to the stage. Mrs. Rennie and Mr. McGovern's wife each gave Carrie a quick hug as she passed by. Even Mr. Fromm and Mr. Ullman were clapping. It really did look like a scene out of a fairy tale. Carrie was absolutely radiant. Norma Watson handed Carrie a bouquet and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as Jennifer Petrie placed a tiara on her head. The gym was filled with strobe flashes and every cell phone camera was focused on the new king and queen.

It was tradition at Ewen High for the newly crown prom king and queen to select the song for the last dance of the night. Tommy deferred to Carrie, insisting that she pick the song. It was her evening after all. She ended up selecting the love theme from a certain James Cameron film about a sinking ocean liner. The rest of the student body cleared the dance floor and clapped as Tommy and Carrie had their moment together. Even Chris Hargensen's clique, the Ultras – at least those in attendance, cheered when they finished. Carrie gave Tommy a quick, fleeting kiss on the cheek, blushing furiously afterwards.

The festivities were coming to a close, and the students were filtering out of the gym. Most of them were probably going to after-parties in Castle Rock or Lewiston. Tina and the other Ultras said their goodbyes to Carrie and promised to sign her yearbook on Monday. Tommy had promised to take Carrie out for a quick bite to eat (one that didn't involve cavity inducing punch or cookies) and was walking her out to the limo when they passed Miss Desjardin. Carrie let go of Tommy's hand and promptly gave her gym teacher one last hug.

"Thank you!" Carrie said, squeezing tightly – a little too tightly. Miss Desjardin's right shoulder began to throb.

July 8th, 201-

It took a moment or two for the fog of sleep to lift. It was 5:35 in the morning and Rita Desjardin was in her old bedroom at her parent's house in New Haven, Connecticut. She had rolled over onto her right side while she was asleep and now it hurt.

"It was just a dream," she muttered to herself. She actually preferred the nightmares. As horrible as they were, they didn't dangle hope in front of her the way this dream had. She knew, lying there alone, that there had been no happy ending. She had tried to help, but it proved to be too little and far too late.

The air conditioner droned in the darkness. She had fallen asleep without setting the sleep timer on her TV and a news anchorwoman was reporting the latest information about what they were calling the Chamberlain tragedy. The official death toll was now at 473 following the deaths of two of the most seriously injured. The anchor speculated that the number of dead might continue to rise for some time considering the number of victims suffering from severe burns. To make matters worse, bodies were still being found periodically as rubble was being removed. The National Guard had been deployed to Chamberlain, and the President was scheduled to give a statement later in the day.

Memories flooded back as she became more alert and oriented. Carrie was dead. So was most of Ewen High School's graduating class – along with a sizable portion of Chamberlain's citizenry. She didn't remember how it happened, but her right shoulder had been dislocated at some point during the disaster. She did remember how her nose ended up broken. After the blood, she had tried to get to Carrie. She wanted to comfort her - to whisk off stage and away from the horror. She didn't make it to the stage. She watched as Rhonda Simard was electrocuted and Tina Blake burned to death. In vivid, living color she'd see it happen over and over again – as if someone had hit replay. It didn't matter if she was awake or asleep. It still haunted her and would probably do so for the remainder of her life.

There had been fire and screaming. She had watched her student's die. A part of her had died that night as well. She had dreamed of being a teacher, but now she couldn't bear the thought of ever stepping foot in a school again. Once things settled down, she would tender her resignation. She thought she was helping. She thought she had done the right thing. Because of her people had died.

Rita Desjardin closed her eyes. She knew the tears would come – just as she knew the nightmares and flashbacks would return. She was grateful for the fact that the air conditioner would mask the sound of her sobbing. She didn't want her mom and dad to worry more than they already did.

Author's Notes: This is the first part of a story that, I hope, will fill in some of the gaps in the book and films. The story will, again hopefully, cover some of the events and flesh out some of the relationships hinted at or briefly mentioned in the canon media. It will probably cover a period starting with Carrie as a kid (think ten or so) and run up to a month or two after the prom disaster. Carrie's Day Off, Art Class and BFFs will probably end up falling closer towards the end.