Chapter 3: Carrie & Desjardin at Florida
(Four Years Later to Present Day…)
Maybe there has been some instances where I wish I didn't have to go back and fix whatever it was I did but what a difference a few years make.
Date: Friday January 26th 2018
Time: 7:50am
Years: 2018
Location: Tampa, Florida.
Pain and trauma come in many different forms and while it is true that pain can be overcome, for others, such trauma can be carried on as it further greatens the burden of the host. Four years have passed since Chamberlain and nothing could appear to heal Carrie's aching heart.
Agreeing to go with Ms. Desjardin, they both moved out of Maine entirely both vowing to stitch themselves up and leave the shadows of the past behind. Settling in a new house in a new neighborhood, it seemed like they were going to have that said opportunity to start over. But only if Desjardin TRULY knew what had become of Carrie since then. Carrie had gotten better at getting out more and trying to socialize but even at four years straight, not a lot of progress went through. Moving away from the lifestyle that her mother had forced her and grew her into was a tricky situation to try and detach herself from.
And this morning would be no different. Walking barefoot with the carpet gently rubbing off the soles of her feet made her feel like she was almost walking on water. With her powers, she'd definitely get away with that but that wasn't like her.
Creeping out the hallway in the wee hours of January 26th, 2018, Carrie still felt as alone as she did all these years back. Having to adjust to this new lifestyle wasn't as frustrating as she thought the second time around. As she scoured the kitchen and viewed over the kitchen counter, she couldn't help but gripe at the sight of the closet door from the other side of the room.
Or flinch at the sight of all the kitchen knifes laying aside the sink in horizontal position.
Or ponder over the thought of no Bible or cross or statue of Jesus staring down at her, dripping blood as if it was staring straight through her subconsciousness, into her soul.
It got to the point where even pouring a single cup of coffee became difficult for Carrie to muster, as the sound of the liquid being poured downwards into the mug was all the more familiar sense of Deja Vu: the dripping and splattering of pigs blood from that bucket that dangled above her head that fateful night. Having dropped the coffee pot when the imagery became too real, Carrie barely catches it an inch before it hits the floor. Having to exert very little brain power to pull it off, she levitates the pot through the air and carefully places it on the counter.
Sighing heavily, she just sat there near the table, staring up at the ceiling.
Literally anything that reminded her of the life she had before or that night of the massacre, including her powers, was difficult to keep from her.
There's a scream that can't be silenced: It's rising, growing louder and louder. It's the scream of a child abandoned long ago...As the screams echoed endlessly in that bedroom, that closet, that bathroom, it echoes now in my mind. It plagues me, penetrating all the dark places. It slams into the loss and bounces against the regret and the pain: a permanent reminder of my own past, a past I can never escape.
Taking her coffee mug and taking a quick sip, she just closes her eyes, pondering to herself.
The river of death has flown through me and I can't put it out. It hasn't been contained because that's all it is. A river. MY river...flowing endlessly through every stretch of my being. And the current is filled with dead bodies; the bodies that I buried that night. Some speak to me, some don't. Some I recognize, other's I don't remember. But they're all still there. They all are...
Carrie?
The voice brings Carrie out of her head as she snaps her head back towards the hallway, seeing Desjardin perched up by the wall, arms crossed, taking a good long look at the girl she had soon learned to idolize.
Desjardin: Good morning.
Carrie: G-Good morning.
Desjardin: See you've already made some coffee for the both of us.
Carrie: Yeah it's just-
It took a few extra seconds for Carrie to get her thoughts together.
Carrie: I needed something to energized me in some shape or form cause I couldn't sleep last night.
Something about the way she said that didn't really ring well with Desjardin.
Desjardin: Mind if I sit down?
She does.
Desjardin: So is it...another nightmare? Hallucination?
Carrie: I don't know what it was...
Fearing how this might get out of control she just places her mug down as Desjardin poured herself a cup of coffee.
Carrie:...but nothing seems to be enough to rid me of these horrors that continue to plague my head. It's hard.
Desjardin: Is it really that hard to let the past die?
That type of question is the type that gets ushered all the time and it's normally the one question people would try to avoid answering. All except Carrie. She took no pride in ignoring the question let alone not answering.
Carrie: If you've seen what I've seen...do the same things that I've done...then there'd be no escape.
She brought up an interesting point. Not many people knew about Carrie's home-life and nobody really bothered to ask her to begin with. In a world where people want instant gratification and where everybody's so quick to judge people before they truly know them, she was the perfect example of one out of many pieces of society that was set to be buried and left behind.
Desjardin: Then help me understand.
Carrie watches as Desjardin sips her coffee, gently placing the mug down.
Desjardin: Maybe if you put me in your shoes for once, I can help you escape.
In pleasant silence, Carrie just eerily turns away.
Desjardin: Please.
At the end of the day Carrie really saw no point of protesting against her request. Knowing Desjardin has shown her nothing but kindness and support all the years she's known her it made sense to tell her everything Regardless of how awful the truth is.
Waiting a full minute too long, Carrie spills the beans.
Carrie: Yes...my Momma did abuse me.
Desjardin immediately spits out her coffee amidst hearing that shocking revelation. "What?!"
Carrie: You may have heard some basic rumors about her but only half of them are true. See...I never knew my Daddy. But when Momma talked about him all she explained was how...how drunkhe was the night he-
Another slight pause.
Carrie: Well...he may not have been himself under that whisky but Dad held her down and forced himself on her. Momma said she was blinded by depression and fear that she always looked up to God for comfort. And the only thing she got into return was...me...
Sob story or not, it was effective in its own way.
Carrie: But while growing up...Momma feared I was...some child of sin. She...used to hit me with Bibles...accused me of sinning as Eve...locked me in the closet...
Having to look back at Desjardins closet door, she barely glimpses at it for a second before turning away. Desjardin was horrified of what she was hearing but it all made sense to her now. On one hand, a part of her felt sorry for Margaret for the incident with her husband but she was PISSED about how she treated her own daughter and the other part of her was glad she died.
It might've seemed wrong to be glad someone so awful died but it's understanding the cause of what horrible acts they caused. Yet, she knew she couldn't tell Carrie that; not without internally crushing her. So she basically said what she could.
Desjardin: Carrie, listen to me. You're not under that abuse anymore. I'm never gonna force you into a closet or beat you with any damn books.
Carrie just sits up sternly, remembering how she was taught to never curse. She found it shocking that her gym teacher said one of those forbidden words, let alone in front of her.
Desjardin: What? Carrie-
Carrie: I'm sorry, I just...I never have gotten used to those words everyone at school said all the time...
Understanding that, she nods.
Desjardin: Sometimes, yeah. Either out of their control like when they're angry or having too much fun. But that isn't evil, Carrie. Everything isn't a sin. This is what you need to understand, which is why you need more time to make more progress out there.
Carrie: But...Ms. Desjardin...I don't think I'm ready yet.
Desjardin: It's been years since Chamberlain, dear. You can't spend the rest of your life cooped up in the house withering away. It's not good for you...no one even knows who you really are yet and many of the locals around here are nice. Like, uh...like our next door neighbors.
Given the years that have passed by, Carrie still knew relatively little about the people who lived either by her or close to her.
"Neighbors?", she ushers.
Desjardin: Yeah, the Ford brothers...they seem to be around your age, attending community college. They talk to me much but one of them does wave to me while I'm heading out for work and he's walking to campus. You should go there and meet a few people, if not at least visit the campus.
Carrie only squints her eyes and nods her head unconvinced. She didn't know and from the looks of it, she didn't want to.
Seeing how this was getting nowhere quickly, Desjardin wasn't giving up so easily.
Desjardin: Well...what'd you like to do for fun?
Carrie: Fun? No one's ever asked me that before. I hardly even know what fun is. But I guess...I like knitting and sowing.
That made Desjardin's job all the more easier, for the time being.
Desjardin: Ahh...well...I know a good knitting shop somewhere in town that could put your talents to good use. And...you remember the 10 meters I gave you and the girls in my class?
Gym class: another part of her past that held a crucial piece to her puzzle she could never remove. She hardly remembered doing much of the exercise in most of her P.A. classes.
Carrie: The suicides? Yeah...?
Desjardin: Well, I was thinking...if you're ever up for it how bout you and I go to the park and take a jog together.
Carrie: You mean like a run?
She nods.
Desjardin: Yeah. When college gymnastics was my major back then, I took jogs every weekend. It helped relieve my stress from time to time. Maybe it can do the same for you.
Carrie once again, doesn't respond. Her former teacher can only be assume that she needs time to think it over.
Desjardin: You know what, sweetheart? There's no rush. Just take all the time you need and let me know.
Carrie turned around and walked back to the kitchen to refill her coffee mug, sinking back into her thoughts again. Even she had to admit, her offer felt too good to pass up as tempting as it was but that was yet to be accepted.
(Meanwhile, at Outside…)
Outside, next door to Carrie and Desjardin's house opposite of the fence from them, two boys roughly around the age of 22 were out and about dressed in hoodies and shorts playing basketball in 62 degree weather.
Brothers Sean (Jamie Blackley) and Raymond Ford (Nick Robinson) seemed pretty even on the score they set for themselves. Considering how both of them were pros at the game at basketball, it made fairly good sense but Sean was nearly out of breath from the vigorous workout, giving Ray the opportunity to knock the ball out of his hands.
Ray: Giving up already?
Sean just scoffs. "In your dreams. I'm just not re-energized."
Ray: Well, whose fault is that? You drank the last of the Gatorades.
"And whose always running low on cardio and forcing us to run double the suicides every weekend, huh?", Sean fires back.
Ray playfully nudges him in the shoulder. "Don't rub it in, Sean. We're already on a hot streak for this weekend's game and if we wanna run the Turro team into the ground, gotta be more hard as ever."
Taking advantage of his younger brother lecturing on, Sean knocks the ball out Ray's hands.
Ray: Oi!
Knocking the ball out his hands, he dribbles it underneath Ray and just slam dunks the basket. However, Ray couldn't help but to take a crack at Sean for his positioning on how he made the basket. "Umm, ok? What was that flash?"
Sean basically shrugs it off. "You were droning on. And besides, I figured I'd pull a Shaquille O'Neal on ya." Now that felt a little bit like an insult.
Ray: Shaq? For real, now? You know he couldn't make a free throw back in the day, right?
Sean: Yeah? Well, when you're tall enough to the point where you can dunk without jumping, you ain't gotta make free throws either.
Partially finding the joke funny but mostly trying to laugh it off, Ray just chuckles endlessly as he tosses Sean his towel and walks back inside to get his. Wiping the sweat off his face, Seans eye caught a glimpse of Carrie stepping out to the back patio for fresh air. Almost immediately, he just stood there in place, letting his towel fall off his shoulder. It's as if time was held in place and everything just slowed down in his mind.
He had never seen anyone else so beautiful in all his life. It's almost as if in his eyes, Carrie was like an Angel that flew straight down from Heaven.
But only if he knew...
Besides from getting air, Carrie was just taking the thought into consideration of what Rita said earlier. And again, she did realize that Desjardin was in the right. Sure, she may not be living the lifestyle she lived all her life but then again, it's just hard to build a new one when you're used to the old one. And just for a minute, Carrie turned her eyes sideways with Sean looking at her and both of them flinched upon being spotted. Sean just chuckled nervously, already giving off the wrong impression.
Sean: Um...Good day, miss...
He gets no reply. Just another blank stare from Carrie before she just turned away only for Sean to approach the fence and call her out again. This time, she seemed to acknowledge his voice as she moved away from the fence.
Sean: I, um...I know some locals around here but I don't think we met before. Umm...I'm Sean. Sean Ford.
A slight facial muscle contraction on the right side of Carrie's face caused her to twitch slightly at his direction. He had her attention again but she still said nothing.
Sean: I...don't suppose you talk...do you?
Carrie just suddenly rushed back inside, leaving Sean feeling like a complete buffoon for asking that.
Sean: I don't suppose you talk. Nice one Sean, you asshole.
"Oi!" Sean looked back seeing Ray in casual attire and a backpack over his shoulder. "C'mon, man. Hit the showers. We got less than an hour to be at campus."
(Meanwhile, later…)
Minutes after the Ford brothers leave, the doorbell rings on Desjardins new residence. The former Chamberlain High gym teacher put down her magazine and set her mug on the coffee table and walked towards the door, puzzled. She wasn't expecting anyone nor was she opening it right away. Even when the doorbell rang once more, she didn't feel the need to do such a thing. All she could do was respond from where she was.
Desjardin: Who is it?
Rita Desjardin?
Desjardin: Yes...?
I'm Dr. Anisha Paris. I'd like to make an appointment with your student Carrie.
A string of confusion overtook the gym teacher. She didn't remember making an appointment for her former student and she sure as hell knew it wasn't the right period of time for Carrie to be receiving any sort of treatment no matter how large or small.
She didn't want to come out as disrespectful but she felt something was off, in terms of who the doctor was talking about.
But finally giving herself a reason to follow through, she bolts the door open and the sight she was presented to was a black female (Donnabella Mortel) who looked a little less younger than her and a lot shorter in height. Regardless of appearance, she looked professional enough. "How do you know Carrie?"
Anisha: I've been keeping an eye on your 'student' for some time now, Rita. It's sort of come to my attention that she's been pretty much hiding from the outside world every chance she gets. But that only depends on what happened is true? About her past? How did it lead up to that fateful night?
Feeling uncomfortable, Desjardin wanted to leave the matter right then and there.
Desjardin: It's safe to say some things are better left unsaid. I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
But still, Anisha insisted. "You'd be throwing a golden ticket away, Rita. I might be able to help her."
One too many times that statement was ushered and one too many times did that alleged promise end up falling on deaf ears. The last thing needed was for history to repeat itself and God knows they don't need any more lives to be taken. Desjardin couldn't help but to feel disgusted when the doctor said those words.
Desjardin: Every other time someone told her that, she continued to get hurt. The last time someone tried to help her, lots of people paid the price for what she had to deal with. Whatever 'help' you have, it's not gonna make this anguish disappear. It hasn't been that way since th-
Anisha: The Black Prom?
She just about had enough. Desjardin was nearly seconds from slamming the door in her face before it suddenly jerks all the way open as a force slams it back to the closet door on the inside. All the two women could do was just stare back at Carrie as she finally let her telekinesis be put to rest for the time being. The sight of Anisha would bring her some sighs of worry but since she had heard the entire conversation, there was no need to worry.
Once again, silence runs through the doorway as she approaches her.
All Carrie muttered was simply, "Help me how?"
To Be Continued…
