Y’s Reviews > Carrie > Status Update

ooking. Finding more than Sue herself had suspected—love for Tommy,
jealousy, selfishness, a need to subjugate him to her will on the matter of
taking Carrie, disgust for Carrie herself,
(she could take better care of herself she does look just like a GODDAM
TOAD) hate for Miss Desjardin, hate for herself.
But no ill will for Carrie personally, no plan to get her in front of
everyone and undo her.

you tricked me you all tricked me)
(carrie i don't even know what happened is tommy)
(you tricked me that happened trick trick trick o dirty trick)
The mixture of image and emotion was staggering, indescribable. Blood.
Sadness. Fear. The latest dirty trick in a long series of dirty tricks: they
flashed by in a dizzying shuffle that made Sue's mind reel helplessly,
hopelessly.

(?????????)
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

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 . . .”