Chapter III
From The Shadow and Flame Exploded (p. 10)
Carrie and Becky had gone to school with the same people since the first grade (or in Becky's case, kindergarten) in accordance of the laws that govern human nature and physics, built steadily with the chain reaction of critical mass.
Yet nobody knew that Carrie was telekinetic and Becky was telepathic, clairvoyant and her most dangerous talent, her ability to light fires and create heat: pyrokinesis.
Graffiti scratched on a desk at Barker Street Grammar School in Chamberlain:
Carrie and Becky White eat shit
Beneath that was scratched:
Your Daddy shat you from his asshole, fuckface!
Next the exclamation point was a black charred spot.
~
"Nobody understood us," said Becky quietly. "They didn't understand what it was like to live with a theomaniacal mother who forced you to do everything you didn't want to."
"Is that why you and Carrie were both targets of being made fun of?" asked Mike.
"Not me, in particular. It was mostly Carrie that was the target that those hens pecked at. Nobody wanted to piss me off because someone would get hurt..."
~
"Come on, ladies," shouted Miss Collins, their slim, non-breasted gym teacher. "Move your bodies."
The girls were all dressed in their gym clothes, playing volleyball. The volleyball zipped from girl to girl. Becky wiped the sweat from her pale forehead, moved her long hair aside. Ball was now on the opposite side.
(she's gonna miss it I know it)
"Hit it to Carrie!" said the girl on the opposite side. "She'll blow it."
Becky watched, knowing she was going to miss it.
"Come on, hit it, Carrie!" said Sue Snell, the brunette with blue eyes.
The ball came towards Carrie, her face full of fear and she dumbly swung at the ball with her hand, attempting to hit it, but unfortunately, she did indeed miss the ball.
"Aw, Carrie!" groaned her teammates. Carrie stood there, blushing.
"Gym class is over, shower up, ladies," said Miss Collins.
The girls hissed and sneered at her. "Why did we have to have her on the team?" said Norma Watson. She hit her on the head with her hat.
"Look at her!"
"You eat shit!" Chris Hargensen hissed at her in her ear.
Becky ran towards Chris like a bolt of lightning, and shoved her down hard. She shrieked as she was pushed and scraped her knee and red liquid seeped through the scrape. Becky smiled, satisfied that Chris was hurt.
"OW!" she screeched. "Jesus, Becky! What's your problem?"
"If you bother my sister again, you dirty fucking pussy cunt," she warned; her voice angry and the heat intensifying, "you lose a fucking ovary. Dig?" She cracked her knuckles.
"All right, Becky," said Miss Collins. "Don't start anything."
Soon, the locker room was filled with shouts and echoed off the tiles. The girls had just finished playing volleyball in Period One gym class and the girls were covered in sweat and they all headed for the showers.
Girls stood under the hot water, squalling, flicking water, and passing white bars of soap from hand to hand. Showers turning off one by one, naked girls stepping out, removing bathing caps, running, grabbing towels, spraying deodorant, pulling on and throwing their clothes around, brushing hair, bras hooked and panties slipped into. Laughs, shrieks, and loud talking and steam hung in the air, resembling a Roman bathhouse.
Becky and Carrie stood among them stolidly, one a frog and the other a sickly wretch among princesses. Carrie was sixteen, had pimples on her face, neck, back and butt, and freckles everywhere from head to toe, and her wet hair was blonde, yet it seemed to have no color, and her eyes were sky blue, making them seem glassy and her nose was pointed. The unmade face expressed naivety and vacancy as the thin mouth that expressed silence. The breasts were full with coffee colored nipples.
Becky was nearly fifteen, yet hardly seemed thirteen being diminutive in height and her appearance: very thin, melancholic, and sickly. There were dark shadows beneath the eyes and hollows in her neck that one would only see in sick, dying, or abused persons. Smiling always made one show how beautiful your teeth are, but she never smiled; the mouth only expressed silence and sadness. Her wet hair was a dull mousy color, hanging in her face and her skin color was pale as if she had never been outside. Her hands were small and childlike with sharp, clean fingernails. She had small breasts, yet she wore a bra, but it was too big on her that she seemed to have none at all.
But her eyes...oh those eyes! What horror they brought you when you stared into them: black, glassy eyes like a doll's, staring...just looking at her, it made you think she knew everything inside your soul, bringing cold chills up your spine, the hair on your neck stand on end, and your stomach turn with sick nervousness.
Becky stepped out of the shower, drying her thin body; her sleek legs covered with shaving scars. She pulled on her heavy cotton panties and her bra (size A). She pulled on a long black skirt coming to her calves that were covered in razor scars from shaving.
"Hello, Beck-kee," said Chris Hargensen's nasty voice behind her. She turned to find Chris was naked; her breasts sagged like an old woman's. Becky didn't answer.
"I see you haven't been able to fit in a bra yet. Might I suggest band- aids?" she laughed.
Christine Hargensen was blonde with pretty green eyes and pretty lips. She pecked at any misfit in the school, along with her friends.
(at least I don't have floppy titties like yours)
She and her bitch friends: Sue Snell, Alice Blake, Katie Spies, Helen Shryes, Donna Thibodeau, and her sister, Mary Lila Grace, and Norma Watson all laughed and pointed at Becky's small breasts in her oversized bra.
"If you ask me, Chris," said Becky, feigning a bright smile as if taking the insult as a compliment. "I think you'd be a lot nicer if your Momma hadn't shit you out of her asshole rather than her pussy when you were born."
The girls stopped laughing and looked at her in shock.
"Plus," Becky added. "At least no one has sucked my titties until they were floppy like an old lady's."
The girls looked shocked; for Becky had the worst insults in her mind. Oh yes! Becky was sick, sick in mind. Anything she said could make a Christian's stomach turn in sickness. Her thoughts were horrible, her words vile, and her insults were obscene. Chris's face turned fire engine red.
"Then your mother eats shit," said Chris. "And no one sucked my tits!"
"If my Momma eats shit, then your Momma is a whore. There's a lot of thing that I know that you don't know, like she fucked every guy in high school."
"She did not!" Chris shrieked.
"Oh, yes. She did. Then, she met your daddy, spread her skimpy little legs and fucked your Daddy in the back of his truck. And man, they fucked everywhere! Then, you were born. Christine Hargensen, whose daddy-o's rich and whose momma is a slutty bitch, with floppy titties that every man sucked on."
"They did NOT!"
"Oh, I'm sure they did. Shall I name a few? Let's see, Tommy, Billy, Chuckie, Angelo, Tony, Sheldon...shall I go on?"
"I'll destroy you, you obscene little fucker!" said Chris, her face red with anger and embarrassment.
"Go right ahead, Chris," said Becky. "I'd like to see you try."
Chris raised her fist to hit Becky, but she stopped. She didn't want to start any trouble because she knew she already was in enough trouble. Thankfully, her father never knew what went on in school, but the school did.
"I HATE you!" Chris screamed. "Shit eater!"
"Good choice, Chris," said Becky. "And you know, if your Momma and Daddy hadn't been such bitches, we could've really shared something."
Chris just walked away, fuming. Sue and the other girls looked shocked, speechless, unable to retort back. She was too good for them.
"Jesus, she's horrible!" said Chris.
"I know," said Sue. "But why? Being brought up religious and all. I just don't understand..."
Soon, Becky could see blood running down a freckled thigh...but who's? Then a bony hand and a pair of eyes, looking confused. Then, the hand opened like a blossoming flower and a red liquid trickled down the crevices between the fingers. The pair of eyes became frightened and shocked...it was Carrie's hand and eyes; Becky was sure of it. A frightened, panicked whimper exited Carrie's mouth as she looked down to see where the blood was coming from.
That's when Carrie ran out of the shower, naked, screaming insanely; the shower was left running. There was blood running down her leg and in her hand.
"Help me!" she screamed. "Becky! Help me!"
"What's wrong, Car?" she asked, seeing her naked sister; her face white as chalk and her eyes filled with terror.
"Help me, Becky! I'm bleeding!" She grabbed Becky's sweater, leaving a bloody handprint.
"Here, have a tampon, Carrie," taunted Chris, dangling a tampon in Carrie's face, and then threw it at her, hitting her in the chest and a red flower blossomed on the absorbent cotton.
"Shut up, Chris!" Becky said. "It's OK, calm down, Car..."
"Carrie's got her period!" Chris cut in, laughing.
The girls burst into peals of insane laughter; Carrie was screaming insanely, eyes and mouth wide open, screaming.
"Shut up!" Becky said, but the noise drowned her. "Stop it!"
"Help me! Help me!" Carrie screamed; her high pitched screams echoed throughout the locker room, equivalent to a frightened child in the dark. She looked at the blood again in terror.
Soon, the girls took out tampons and sanitary napkins from their purses, even some from the broken dispenser, which Sue pulled the front off, and they pelted it at her like peanuts, chanting, insanely laughing:
"Plug it up, plug it up, plug it up..."
Carrie was in the corner of the shower, cowering with fear, naked, covered with tampons and napkins, next underwear and dirty socks. There was a sea of tampons and napkins at her feet and a tampon stuck in the middle of her pubic hair, making Becky sick to her stomach.
Anger boiled inside Becky's little thin body for this was beyond all the sick acts the student body had done on her sister...it was the last straw that broke the camel's back, the one that crossed the line...she had promised for long years to never let the push out again.
(just once won't hurt anyone...just a tiny bit)
Her teeth and fists clenched; her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, which began to sweat profusely. Her blood was hot and blood pressure shot from 180/90 to 190/100; her heart was hammering in her brain and the sweat dripped from her forehead. Her temperature 103 degrees. The heat in the locker room began to intensify; some of the lockers trembled and the chants seemed to have faded into silence.
(you like the smell of burnt toast, chris? don't you just love the smell of that charred black burnt toast? no! you seem more like a bacon eater. like burnt charred bacon? delicious, isn't it? well, you know burnt bacon smells like? Flesh...sweet, burnt, charred flesh...)
The room was 110 degrees...the sweat soaked her entire body, the water dripping from the showers boiled, her hair flew again from below her and her eyeballs burned as they strained, her brain ready to explode. Yet, nobody seemed to notice the room was getting hotter by the second.
(push, becky, push...burn, chris, burn)
She looked at Chris's shoes.
(I'll burn those fuckin shoes right off your pretty silky feet, chris)
Then, there was a panicked scream, coming from Chris. Her shoes were on fire!
"FIRE!" she screamed. "HELP ME! I'M ON FIRE!"
The girls stopped what they were doing and screamed at the yellow orange flames that licked her shoes.
(burn them all, becky, they all deserve to burn)
Soon, the tampons and sanitary napkins that they were holding burst into flames. The girls screamed at the yellow orange flames, stomping them out; the smoke was a soft grey as they stomped them out and there was a horrible smell of cloth, cardboard and plastic burning. They waved at the flames, but they only spread quicker. Some stomped out the flames.
"Put me out!" Chris screamed. The flames spread onto her jeans and Chris screamed louder as the flames spread, the heat burning her.
That was when the door pumped open with a flat and hurried bang and Miss Collins, burst in to see what was all the screaming and noise was about. She saw that Chris's shoes were on fire.
"Don't move, just stop..." she said. "The flames will only spread."
"Put me out!" Chris screamed, panickly. "Put me OUT!!"
"Calm down, Chris."
Miss Collins dragged Chris into the showers, turned the water on, and put the flames out. Chris was crying hysterically.
(shit! I shouldn't have let it out again!)
"How did this happen?" she asked.
"I don't know," sobbed Chris. "I was just standing there...then, all of a sudden, I just caught fire...I don't know how..."
"Come on, Chris," said Miss Collins. "You weren't smoking in here, were you? You know that smoking is not allowed in school."
"I wasn't! I don't know how it happened!"
"Yea. Plus, the sanitary napkins and tampons too, Miss Collins," said Sue. "They caught on fire too."
"Miss Collins," said Becky, pushing her way through the crowd. "They were smoking...I saw them. And they were teasing of Carrie!"
"Lying tattletale shit!" hissed Chris, hitting Becky on the back of the head.
"Go fuck your Daddy, dirty pussy cunt!" Becky hissed through her teeth.
Chris prepared to charge at Becky; she wished she had set Chris's hair or her body on fire instead of her shoes...maybe even her pretty face.
"Why you little bitch..." Chris hissed.
"All right, Chris. Let it go. Don't start anything," said Miss Collins. To Becky, "And Rebecca White! And I'm surprised at you. A nice girl yourself using dirty language. We do not use that kind of language. Do you understand, young lady?"
"Sorry, Miss Collins."
Miss Collins ran to Carrie, Becky behind her; Carrie was sitting on the floor, naked, screaming in a panic.
"Carrie, Carrie!" said Miss Collins. "Calm down and clean yourself up."
Carrie shrieked insanely, clutching Miss Collins and her sister. She left another bloody handprint on Becky's white sweater and one on Miss Collins's white shorts. She slapped her hard across the face, causing Becky to jump. She wanted to let the push out again, but thinking it over, she would've slapped Carrie too if she was going this insane.
"Calm down, Carrie and get up and clean yourself up...damn it! Will you do it yourself! You act as if you've never had your period before."
Carrie shook her head violently, screamed, and pushed Miss Collins away.
Suddenly, the light bulb in the showers exploded; shards of glass flew everywhere. Sue looked at the light bulb and the other girls gasped, then giggled at frightened Carrie. Carrie buried her frightened face in Miss Collins' blue cotton breasts of her sweater and sobbed.
"Go on!" said Miss Collins, sternly at the other girls. "Get out of here! Go on! Shoo!"
The girls dispersed out of the locker room, some dressed, some still in their underwear, and some wrapped in towels.
"It's OK, Carrie," said Becky.
She knelt down beside her sister, who clutched her sweater tightly.
"Carrie?" said Miss Collins. "Carrie, is this your first period? I'm sorry, I didn't know." Her voice sounded sad and worried. "Now, see? Everyone's gone, see? Now, come on, don't you know?"
Carrie only stared stupidly, her eyes were wet blue forget-me-nots and her body trembled in terror.
Becky could see that the blood had grown darker and it was smeared and splattered on Carrie's thighs like she had walked through a river of blood.
"My stomach..." Carrie groaned, burying her face into her sister's blue cotton sweater. "It hurts..."
"It'll pass," said Becky, stroking her wet hair. It was sleek beneath her pale fingertips. For she remembered her first at the age of thirteen: the cramps, the blood...the works. Carrie clutched to her sister, sobbing miserably and her body trembling; her wet body soaked Becky's sweater.
"You have to stop the flow of blood...you..." Miss Collins said.
"Please, ma'am," said Becky quietly. "Let me. You know, sister to sister."
Miss Collins nodded. "All right, Beck. Go ahead."
To Carrie, she said, "Watch. You do this..."
~
Miss Collins tried to explain twice the meaning of menstruation, but she only covered her ears.
"Miss Collins," Becky said. "Please let me try. It's a sisterly thing."
"But, it's no use," said Miss Collins. "She refuses to cooperate."
"Please..." Becky's black eyes shined as if though she were a prisoner pleading for mercy.
"Very well." Miss Collins turned to leave the room.
The room was quiet and Carrie knelt next to her sister, clutching her sweater, trembling and crying.
"All right, Car," she said, sighing. "See, we're all alone. So, can I tell you?"
Carrie nodded her head.
Then, she began: "Menstruation is when the uterine wall sheds..."
"Ohuh?" said Carrie, interrupted, confused.
Becky sighed and said, "OK! But you have to swear to me that you will never tell Momma about this book I have 'cause if she found out, I'll be locked in the closet for eternity."
Carrie nodded her head.
Becky opened her knapsack and pulled out a black book that had on the front: HUMAN ANATOMY. She watched as she flipped through the pages and saw a woman's naked body...oh! What a sin it was! Carrie blushed hard.
"OK," said Becky, flipping towards a page with the words: FEMALE REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM and saw a sinful photo of a woman's reproductive system.
"This is the uterus," she said, pointing to a drawing what looked like an upside-down pear. "It's a hollow organ where the baby grows. It's also a really strong muscle so it can push the baby out."
"What are those?" she asked, pointing to two almond shapes.
"They're ovaries," said Becky. "That's where the eggs grow and one way a baby is made."
"And these?" She pointed to a set of tubes.
"Fallopian tubes. That's how the eggs come out. This is how menstruation begins: an egg in the ovaries is formed. While the egg is being formed, the uterine wall thickens, preparing it for fertilization. Once the egg is ready, it bursts out of the ovary and goes down the Fallopian tube." She traced her finger showing the path of the egg. "It takes about a few days or a week 'till it reaches the uterus and if the egg is unfertilized, ta- da, your period. The uterine wall sheds, which is how we see it as blood. This lasts about four or five days."
"How does it come out?"
"It flows out of this little thing here," said Becky, pointing to a skinny looking canal, "called the vagina."
"If the egg is fertilized, then what?"
"If the egg is fertilized, it implants itself to the uterine wall and grows there for about nine months and ta-da, there you are, a whole human baby. Then, after nine months, your Momma births you. You're shoved from her uterus and out her vagina and into the world...and ta-da, you are born."
"How does the egg get fertilized?"
"Now, that part is where it gets really dirty."
"Tell me!"
"OK...but swear you'll never tell Momma I said this."
She leaned over towards Carrie and whispered all the dirty sinful details that her sister had an incredible knowledge about. She grimaced and blushed at the dirty parts.
"So, that's what the Sin of Intercourse is?"
"It's called 'sexual intercourse', Carrie, not the Sin of Intercourse. And it's not a sin if you're married, Car. If you commit fornication, then it's a sin. There's a big difference."
"Fornication?"
"It's when a man fucks you when you're not married. When that happens, you're called a slut or a whore, in other words, a prostitute. But, if a man fucks you when you're married, you're called a wife."
"Prostitute?"
"It's a woman who fucks men for money. But don't ever do it! That's an easy way you get 'phylis."
"'Phylis?"
"Syphilis, Carrie. It's a sexually transmitted disease and if you don't treat it, you can fuck up your body. Some people even go mad. That's why the psych is filled with mad patients. Get it Carrie?"
Carrie nodded. "I think so. Thanks, Becky."
"Anytime. But if I catch you fucking anyone, I'll kick your ass. Got it?"
Carrie nodded. "I won't, I won't."
From The Shadow and Flame Exploded (p. 10)
Carrie and Becky had gone to school with the same people since the first grade (or in Becky's case, kindergarten) in accordance of the laws that govern human nature and physics, built steadily with the chain reaction of critical mass.
Yet nobody knew that Carrie was telekinetic and Becky was telepathic, clairvoyant and her most dangerous talent, her ability to light fires and create heat: pyrokinesis.
Graffiti scratched on a desk at Barker Street Grammar School in Chamberlain:
Carrie and Becky White eat shit
Beneath that was scratched:
Your Daddy shat you from his asshole, fuckface!
Next the exclamation point was a black charred spot.
~
"Nobody understood us," said Becky quietly. "They didn't understand what it was like to live with a theomaniacal mother who forced you to do everything you didn't want to."
"Is that why you and Carrie were both targets of being made fun of?" asked Mike.
"Not me, in particular. It was mostly Carrie that was the target that those hens pecked at. Nobody wanted to piss me off because someone would get hurt..."
~
"Come on, ladies," shouted Miss Collins, their slim, non-breasted gym teacher. "Move your bodies."
The girls were all dressed in their gym clothes, playing volleyball. The volleyball zipped from girl to girl. Becky wiped the sweat from her pale forehead, moved her long hair aside. Ball was now on the opposite side.
(she's gonna miss it I know it)
"Hit it to Carrie!" said the girl on the opposite side. "She'll blow it."
Becky watched, knowing she was going to miss it.
"Come on, hit it, Carrie!" said Sue Snell, the brunette with blue eyes.
The ball came towards Carrie, her face full of fear and she dumbly swung at the ball with her hand, attempting to hit it, but unfortunately, she did indeed miss the ball.
"Aw, Carrie!" groaned her teammates. Carrie stood there, blushing.
"Gym class is over, shower up, ladies," said Miss Collins.
The girls hissed and sneered at her. "Why did we have to have her on the team?" said Norma Watson. She hit her on the head with her hat.
"Look at her!"
"You eat shit!" Chris Hargensen hissed at her in her ear.
Becky ran towards Chris like a bolt of lightning, and shoved her down hard. She shrieked as she was pushed and scraped her knee and red liquid seeped through the scrape. Becky smiled, satisfied that Chris was hurt.
"OW!" she screeched. "Jesus, Becky! What's your problem?"
"If you bother my sister again, you dirty fucking pussy cunt," she warned; her voice angry and the heat intensifying, "you lose a fucking ovary. Dig?" She cracked her knuckles.
"All right, Becky," said Miss Collins. "Don't start anything."
Soon, the locker room was filled with shouts and echoed off the tiles. The girls had just finished playing volleyball in Period One gym class and the girls were covered in sweat and they all headed for the showers.
Girls stood under the hot water, squalling, flicking water, and passing white bars of soap from hand to hand. Showers turning off one by one, naked girls stepping out, removing bathing caps, running, grabbing towels, spraying deodorant, pulling on and throwing their clothes around, brushing hair, bras hooked and panties slipped into. Laughs, shrieks, and loud talking and steam hung in the air, resembling a Roman bathhouse.
Becky and Carrie stood among them stolidly, one a frog and the other a sickly wretch among princesses. Carrie was sixteen, had pimples on her face, neck, back and butt, and freckles everywhere from head to toe, and her wet hair was blonde, yet it seemed to have no color, and her eyes were sky blue, making them seem glassy and her nose was pointed. The unmade face expressed naivety and vacancy as the thin mouth that expressed silence. The breasts were full with coffee colored nipples.
Becky was nearly fifteen, yet hardly seemed thirteen being diminutive in height and her appearance: very thin, melancholic, and sickly. There were dark shadows beneath the eyes and hollows in her neck that one would only see in sick, dying, or abused persons. Smiling always made one show how beautiful your teeth are, but she never smiled; the mouth only expressed silence and sadness. Her wet hair was a dull mousy color, hanging in her face and her skin color was pale as if she had never been outside. Her hands were small and childlike with sharp, clean fingernails. She had small breasts, yet she wore a bra, but it was too big on her that she seemed to have none at all.
But her eyes...oh those eyes! What horror they brought you when you stared into them: black, glassy eyes like a doll's, staring...just looking at her, it made you think she knew everything inside your soul, bringing cold chills up your spine, the hair on your neck stand on end, and your stomach turn with sick nervousness.
Becky stepped out of the shower, drying her thin body; her sleek legs covered with shaving scars. She pulled on her heavy cotton panties and her bra (size A). She pulled on a long black skirt coming to her calves that were covered in razor scars from shaving.
"Hello, Beck-kee," said Chris Hargensen's nasty voice behind her. She turned to find Chris was naked; her breasts sagged like an old woman's. Becky didn't answer.
"I see you haven't been able to fit in a bra yet. Might I suggest band- aids?" she laughed.
Christine Hargensen was blonde with pretty green eyes and pretty lips. She pecked at any misfit in the school, along with her friends.
(at least I don't have floppy titties like yours)
She and her bitch friends: Sue Snell, Alice Blake, Katie Spies, Helen Shryes, Donna Thibodeau, and her sister, Mary Lila Grace, and Norma Watson all laughed and pointed at Becky's small breasts in her oversized bra.
"If you ask me, Chris," said Becky, feigning a bright smile as if taking the insult as a compliment. "I think you'd be a lot nicer if your Momma hadn't shit you out of her asshole rather than her pussy when you were born."
The girls stopped laughing and looked at her in shock.
"Plus," Becky added. "At least no one has sucked my titties until they were floppy like an old lady's."
The girls looked shocked; for Becky had the worst insults in her mind. Oh yes! Becky was sick, sick in mind. Anything she said could make a Christian's stomach turn in sickness. Her thoughts were horrible, her words vile, and her insults were obscene. Chris's face turned fire engine red.
"Then your mother eats shit," said Chris. "And no one sucked my tits!"
"If my Momma eats shit, then your Momma is a whore. There's a lot of thing that I know that you don't know, like she fucked every guy in high school."
"She did not!" Chris shrieked.
"Oh, yes. She did. Then, she met your daddy, spread her skimpy little legs and fucked your Daddy in the back of his truck. And man, they fucked everywhere! Then, you were born. Christine Hargensen, whose daddy-o's rich and whose momma is a slutty bitch, with floppy titties that every man sucked on."
"They did NOT!"
"Oh, I'm sure they did. Shall I name a few? Let's see, Tommy, Billy, Chuckie, Angelo, Tony, Sheldon...shall I go on?"
"I'll destroy you, you obscene little fucker!" said Chris, her face red with anger and embarrassment.
"Go right ahead, Chris," said Becky. "I'd like to see you try."
Chris raised her fist to hit Becky, but she stopped. She didn't want to start any trouble because she knew she already was in enough trouble. Thankfully, her father never knew what went on in school, but the school did.
"I HATE you!" Chris screamed. "Shit eater!"
"Good choice, Chris," said Becky. "And you know, if your Momma and Daddy hadn't been such bitches, we could've really shared something."
Chris just walked away, fuming. Sue and the other girls looked shocked, speechless, unable to retort back. She was too good for them.
"Jesus, she's horrible!" said Chris.
"I know," said Sue. "But why? Being brought up religious and all. I just don't understand..."
Soon, Becky could see blood running down a freckled thigh...but who's? Then a bony hand and a pair of eyes, looking confused. Then, the hand opened like a blossoming flower and a red liquid trickled down the crevices between the fingers. The pair of eyes became frightened and shocked...it was Carrie's hand and eyes; Becky was sure of it. A frightened, panicked whimper exited Carrie's mouth as she looked down to see where the blood was coming from.
That's when Carrie ran out of the shower, naked, screaming insanely; the shower was left running. There was blood running down her leg and in her hand.
"Help me!" she screamed. "Becky! Help me!"
"What's wrong, Car?" she asked, seeing her naked sister; her face white as chalk and her eyes filled with terror.
"Help me, Becky! I'm bleeding!" She grabbed Becky's sweater, leaving a bloody handprint.
"Here, have a tampon, Carrie," taunted Chris, dangling a tampon in Carrie's face, and then threw it at her, hitting her in the chest and a red flower blossomed on the absorbent cotton.
"Shut up, Chris!" Becky said. "It's OK, calm down, Car..."
"Carrie's got her period!" Chris cut in, laughing.
The girls burst into peals of insane laughter; Carrie was screaming insanely, eyes and mouth wide open, screaming.
"Shut up!" Becky said, but the noise drowned her. "Stop it!"
"Help me! Help me!" Carrie screamed; her high pitched screams echoed throughout the locker room, equivalent to a frightened child in the dark. She looked at the blood again in terror.
Soon, the girls took out tampons and sanitary napkins from their purses, even some from the broken dispenser, which Sue pulled the front off, and they pelted it at her like peanuts, chanting, insanely laughing:
"Plug it up, plug it up, plug it up..."
Carrie was in the corner of the shower, cowering with fear, naked, covered with tampons and napkins, next underwear and dirty socks. There was a sea of tampons and napkins at her feet and a tampon stuck in the middle of her pubic hair, making Becky sick to her stomach.
Anger boiled inside Becky's little thin body for this was beyond all the sick acts the student body had done on her sister...it was the last straw that broke the camel's back, the one that crossed the line...she had promised for long years to never let the push out again.
(just once won't hurt anyone...just a tiny bit)
Her teeth and fists clenched; her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, which began to sweat profusely. Her blood was hot and blood pressure shot from 180/90 to 190/100; her heart was hammering in her brain and the sweat dripped from her forehead. Her temperature 103 degrees. The heat in the locker room began to intensify; some of the lockers trembled and the chants seemed to have faded into silence.
(you like the smell of burnt toast, chris? don't you just love the smell of that charred black burnt toast? no! you seem more like a bacon eater. like burnt charred bacon? delicious, isn't it? well, you know burnt bacon smells like? Flesh...sweet, burnt, charred flesh...)
The room was 110 degrees...the sweat soaked her entire body, the water dripping from the showers boiled, her hair flew again from below her and her eyeballs burned as they strained, her brain ready to explode. Yet, nobody seemed to notice the room was getting hotter by the second.
(push, becky, push...burn, chris, burn)
She looked at Chris's shoes.
(I'll burn those fuckin shoes right off your pretty silky feet, chris)
Then, there was a panicked scream, coming from Chris. Her shoes were on fire!
"FIRE!" she screamed. "HELP ME! I'M ON FIRE!"
The girls stopped what they were doing and screamed at the yellow orange flames that licked her shoes.
(burn them all, becky, they all deserve to burn)
Soon, the tampons and sanitary napkins that they were holding burst into flames. The girls screamed at the yellow orange flames, stomping them out; the smoke was a soft grey as they stomped them out and there was a horrible smell of cloth, cardboard and plastic burning. They waved at the flames, but they only spread quicker. Some stomped out the flames.
"Put me out!" Chris screamed. The flames spread onto her jeans and Chris screamed louder as the flames spread, the heat burning her.
That was when the door pumped open with a flat and hurried bang and Miss Collins, burst in to see what was all the screaming and noise was about. She saw that Chris's shoes were on fire.
"Don't move, just stop..." she said. "The flames will only spread."
"Put me out!" Chris screamed, panickly. "Put me OUT!!"
"Calm down, Chris."
Miss Collins dragged Chris into the showers, turned the water on, and put the flames out. Chris was crying hysterically.
(shit! I shouldn't have let it out again!)
"How did this happen?" she asked.
"I don't know," sobbed Chris. "I was just standing there...then, all of a sudden, I just caught fire...I don't know how..."
"Come on, Chris," said Miss Collins. "You weren't smoking in here, were you? You know that smoking is not allowed in school."
"I wasn't! I don't know how it happened!"
"Yea. Plus, the sanitary napkins and tampons too, Miss Collins," said Sue. "They caught on fire too."
"Miss Collins," said Becky, pushing her way through the crowd. "They were smoking...I saw them. And they were teasing of Carrie!"
"Lying tattletale shit!" hissed Chris, hitting Becky on the back of the head.
"Go fuck your Daddy, dirty pussy cunt!" Becky hissed through her teeth.
Chris prepared to charge at Becky; she wished she had set Chris's hair or her body on fire instead of her shoes...maybe even her pretty face.
"Why you little bitch..." Chris hissed.
"All right, Chris. Let it go. Don't start anything," said Miss Collins. To Becky, "And Rebecca White! And I'm surprised at you. A nice girl yourself using dirty language. We do not use that kind of language. Do you understand, young lady?"
"Sorry, Miss Collins."
Miss Collins ran to Carrie, Becky behind her; Carrie was sitting on the floor, naked, screaming in a panic.
"Carrie, Carrie!" said Miss Collins. "Calm down and clean yourself up."
Carrie shrieked insanely, clutching Miss Collins and her sister. She left another bloody handprint on Becky's white sweater and one on Miss Collins's white shorts. She slapped her hard across the face, causing Becky to jump. She wanted to let the push out again, but thinking it over, she would've slapped Carrie too if she was going this insane.
"Calm down, Carrie and get up and clean yourself up...damn it! Will you do it yourself! You act as if you've never had your period before."
Carrie shook her head violently, screamed, and pushed Miss Collins away.
Suddenly, the light bulb in the showers exploded; shards of glass flew everywhere. Sue looked at the light bulb and the other girls gasped, then giggled at frightened Carrie. Carrie buried her frightened face in Miss Collins' blue cotton breasts of her sweater and sobbed.
"Go on!" said Miss Collins, sternly at the other girls. "Get out of here! Go on! Shoo!"
The girls dispersed out of the locker room, some dressed, some still in their underwear, and some wrapped in towels.
"It's OK, Carrie," said Becky.
She knelt down beside her sister, who clutched her sweater tightly.
"Carrie?" said Miss Collins. "Carrie, is this your first period? I'm sorry, I didn't know." Her voice sounded sad and worried. "Now, see? Everyone's gone, see? Now, come on, don't you know?"
Carrie only stared stupidly, her eyes were wet blue forget-me-nots and her body trembled in terror.
Becky could see that the blood had grown darker and it was smeared and splattered on Carrie's thighs like she had walked through a river of blood.
"My stomach..." Carrie groaned, burying her face into her sister's blue cotton sweater. "It hurts..."
"It'll pass," said Becky, stroking her wet hair. It was sleek beneath her pale fingertips. For she remembered her first at the age of thirteen: the cramps, the blood...the works. Carrie clutched to her sister, sobbing miserably and her body trembling; her wet body soaked Becky's sweater.
"You have to stop the flow of blood...you..." Miss Collins said.
"Please, ma'am," said Becky quietly. "Let me. You know, sister to sister."
Miss Collins nodded. "All right, Beck. Go ahead."
To Carrie, she said, "Watch. You do this..."
~
Miss Collins tried to explain twice the meaning of menstruation, but she only covered her ears.
"Miss Collins," Becky said. "Please let me try. It's a sisterly thing."
"But, it's no use," said Miss Collins. "She refuses to cooperate."
"Please..." Becky's black eyes shined as if though she were a prisoner pleading for mercy.
"Very well." Miss Collins turned to leave the room.
The room was quiet and Carrie knelt next to her sister, clutching her sweater, trembling and crying.
"All right, Car," she said, sighing. "See, we're all alone. So, can I tell you?"
Carrie nodded her head.
Then, she began: "Menstruation is when the uterine wall sheds..."
"Ohuh?" said Carrie, interrupted, confused.
Becky sighed and said, "OK! But you have to swear to me that you will never tell Momma about this book I have 'cause if she found out, I'll be locked in the closet for eternity."
Carrie nodded her head.
Becky opened her knapsack and pulled out a black book that had on the front: HUMAN ANATOMY. She watched as she flipped through the pages and saw a woman's naked body...oh! What a sin it was! Carrie blushed hard.
"OK," said Becky, flipping towards a page with the words: FEMALE REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM and saw a sinful photo of a woman's reproductive system.
"This is the uterus," she said, pointing to a drawing what looked like an upside-down pear. "It's a hollow organ where the baby grows. It's also a really strong muscle so it can push the baby out."
"What are those?" she asked, pointing to two almond shapes.
"They're ovaries," said Becky. "That's where the eggs grow and one way a baby is made."
"And these?" She pointed to a set of tubes.
"Fallopian tubes. That's how the eggs come out. This is how menstruation begins: an egg in the ovaries is formed. While the egg is being formed, the uterine wall thickens, preparing it for fertilization. Once the egg is ready, it bursts out of the ovary and goes down the Fallopian tube." She traced her finger showing the path of the egg. "It takes about a few days or a week 'till it reaches the uterus and if the egg is unfertilized, ta- da, your period. The uterine wall sheds, which is how we see it as blood. This lasts about four or five days."
"How does it come out?"
"It flows out of this little thing here," said Becky, pointing to a skinny looking canal, "called the vagina."
"If the egg is fertilized, then what?"
"If the egg is fertilized, it implants itself to the uterine wall and grows there for about nine months and ta-da, there you are, a whole human baby. Then, after nine months, your Momma births you. You're shoved from her uterus and out her vagina and into the world...and ta-da, you are born."
"How does the egg get fertilized?"
"Now, that part is where it gets really dirty."
"Tell me!"
"OK...but swear you'll never tell Momma I said this."
She leaned over towards Carrie and whispered all the dirty sinful details that her sister had an incredible knowledge about. She grimaced and blushed at the dirty parts.
"So, that's what the Sin of Intercourse is?"
"It's called 'sexual intercourse', Carrie, not the Sin of Intercourse. And it's not a sin if you're married, Car. If you commit fornication, then it's a sin. There's a big difference."
"Fornication?"
"It's when a man fucks you when you're not married. When that happens, you're called a slut or a whore, in other words, a prostitute. But, if a man fucks you when you're married, you're called a wife."
"Prostitute?"
"It's a woman who fucks men for money. But don't ever do it! That's an easy way you get 'phylis."
"'Phylis?"
"Syphilis, Carrie. It's a sexually transmitted disease and if you don't treat it, you can fuck up your body. Some people even go mad. That's why the psych is filled with mad patients. Get it Carrie?"
Carrie nodded. "I think so. Thanks, Becky."
"Anytime. But if I catch you fucking anyone, I'll kick your ass. Got it?"
Carrie nodded. "I won't, I won't."