Status Updates From Carrie

(?????????)
She sat bolt upright, staring into the darkness.
(?????????)
She didn't know how she knew. It bore no relationship only prosaic knowledge; the way you know
summer follows spring, that cancer can kill you, that Carrie's mother was
dead already, that—

Time passed. It didn't matter. Macbeth hath murdered sleep and Carrie
hath murdered time. Pretty good. A bon mot. Sue smiled dolefully. Can this
be the end of our heroine, Miss Sweet Little Sixteen? No worries about the
country clubs now. Not ever. Gone. Burned out. Someone
ran past, blabbering that Carlin Street was on fire. Good for Carlin Street.
Tommy was gone. And Carrie had gone home to murder her mother.

She stood swaying, her arms thrown out like the arms of a stage
hypnotist, and she began to totter toward them.
( Billy
(CARRIE just like the dogs CARRIE just like the goddam dogs CARRIE
brucie i wish it could CARRIE be CARRIE you) and Chris
(CARRIE jesus not to kill her CARRIE didn't mean to kill her CARRIE
billy i don't CARRIE want to CARRIE see it CA) a

They got into his car, and he started it up. When he popped on the
headlights, Chris began to scream, hands in fists up to her cheeks.
Billy felt it at the same time: Something in his mind,
(carrie carrie carrie carrie)
a presence.

He smiled. “Maybe.” But he wouldn't. Not any more. “Come on. We're
going to town.”

Call your daddy?” he was grunting. “That what you gonna do? Huh?
Huh? That it, ole Chuckie? Call big ole legal beagle daddy? Huh? I woulda
done it to you, you know that? I woulda dumped it all over your fuckin
squash. You know it? Huh? Know it? Pig blood for pigs, right? Right on
your motherfuckin squash. You—”

chris somehow isnt offended

hrough a thousand years before.
Carrie went out the back door, staggered across the lawn, and rested
(where's my momma)
against a tree. There was something she was supposed to do. Something
about
(roadhouses parking lots)
the Angel with the Sword. The Fiery Sword.
Never mind. It would come to her.

“—Thy will be done—”
“My will, Momma. Slower.”

“I came to kill you, Momma. And you were waiting here to kill me.
Momma, I . . . it's not right, Momma. It's not . . .”

“Momma,” she whispered. Her eyes were preternaturally bright,
hawklike, but her mouth was trembling. If someone had been there to
watch, he would have been struck by the resemblance between them.

“Momma,” she whispered. Her eyes were preternaturally bright,
hawklike, but her mouth was trembling. If someone had been there to
watch, he would have been struck by the resemblance between them.

Her body seemed to have become twisted, shrunken, crone-like. The
prom dress was in tatters and flaps, and the pig blood had began to clot and
streak. There was a smudge of grease on her forehead, and both knees were
scraped and raw-looking

“(dead are they all dead Carrie why think Carrie) pg. 219

“What happened next?”
“Next? Why, next thing, the Devil came to Chamberlain…” -Thomas pg. 225

“ They are laughing and ready to throw things to point and scream with laughter I can't see them I can't see them it's all too bright.” pg. 228

“She was forgetting (!! THE POWER !!) It was time to teach them a lesson.” Pg. 231