CHAPTER 6

From the stage, Vic Mooney announces, "The winners—and it was very close—Tommy Ross and Carrie White!"

For a moment, I die and float on the ceiling looking down. There the only sound is my own breath.

Did I hear our names? Did they really vote me prom queen?

I came back to my body again and everyone cheers us. They're looking at me, not with sneers or hatred now, but in awe. Freddie Holt yells "Way to go, Carrie!"

Did you always feel that way, Freddie? Why didn't you ever say?

I stand. Tommy takes my arm, steadies and guides me to the stage. I let him, because I surely can't even find it right now. Instead, if Tommie's arm doesn't ground me, I might float back to the ceiling.

I am star struck. If everyone is saying they're sorry, they've chosen the right way to do it. But no, they're not just saying they're sorry.

I feel light, a joyful spirit! An angel. I can dance in the clouds now. The misery; heavier and heavier every day, week, and month for year after year—twelve layers of leaden suffering—lift from my soul. Like a miracle, the scars of persecution heal. I take the special spot on the stage next to Tommy. I see myself, reflected in everyone's eyes and I'm a beautiful gem, precious to them. The abuse, jeers, and bullying—just bad dreams. I'm awake for the first time in my life now, and it's like none of it really never happened. This is what's real. This is how they really always felt about me.

And at that moment, their cheers reach a crescendo, and I forgive them all. They are my peers, my friends. I glance at Sue; I owe her such thanks for this revelation.

Impossible! She can't be here.

I try to point her out to Tommy, but when I look for her again, she's gone.

Instead, I get drawn into Tommy's eyes. My knight who forgot his sword but who still brought me out of Hell . . . with his sharp wit. I laugh. Joy comes so easily now.

"Tommy . . ."

But my mind wanders; where I don't know.

hidden . . .

. . . a large cup . . . filled with the most unclean, vile poison for my soul. . . and Chris Hargensen's forcing it down my throat . . . it's tipping . . . tipping . . .

A bang and burst of light snap me out of the vision. I'm back with Tommy on stage. But I'm blind and deaf. I panic. My mind reaches out . . .