Prompts:
Carrie, Cardiovascular disease, Art student, Foster home, Abuse, Dead friend, Blue eyes, Guns and knives, Blood, death.

This is gonna be good *smirk*

***
"Carrie! Get down here! The dishes aren't done yet!" said a woman in her 40s. She looks agitated, like anything could make her go Ka-boom.

"Coming!" a dirty blonde hair and blue eyes girl answered.

She stepped down the stairs, already in her rusty pajama. Quickly going to the kitchen to do the dish.

"Diego! Your job is to make sure Gina is okay! Why the f*ck do I still hear his cry?!" the woman shouted again.

The boy she called Diego replied, "she needs to be breast-fed! She needs you! There's nothing I can do!"

"Boy, watch your mouth!" the woman's husband growled.

"No, I'm sick of this, okay? You can't expect people to do your job! Look at yourselves! You don't have any job, do drugs every chance you got and abusing your foster kids! You have one daughter! Only one f*cking daughter! And you decided you want to be as careless as you are about your own health right now."

Carrie can hear her twin, Diego, shouting in the living room. She sigh. She knows what will happen next.

Can my day get any worse?

She just found out this morning that her best friends have cardiovascular disease. Congenital heart disease. Can only be cured with surgery. And the surgery is tonight.

Her foster parent wouldn't allow her to step out of the house. So she plans on sneaking out.

Carrie actually isn't that young, she is 17. She will be 18 in a few months. And she can't wait to get out of the hell hole.

People only see the outline of it.

A foster home. A foster parent. A safe place for kids with no parents can go. A safe place where people can adopt children and raise them as their own.

Bullshit.

They don't know what we're going through in here. How they treated us.

A loud slap can be heard from the living room. Carrie flinches.

Think about something else Carrie...

Another slap. Her eyes water

Anything else...

Another slap. She flinches.

I can't do this anymore. I can't do this anymore! I have to put an end to this! For Diego. For Gina!

She reaches for a knife on the kitchen table. Slowly, she tiptoed to the living room.

She took a peek. Diego is lying on the floor, his cheek swollen, blood dripping from his head.

Carrie withdraw her head.

You can do this Carrie! You can!

She took a peek again. Her foster parent was sitting on the table, taking out a plastic she bets has drugs in it. She withdraw her head again.

Can I really do this?

Her gaze scans the room. It fell on her foster mom's phone. She snatched it without thinking and typed in 911.

The line rings. She steps as far away as she can from the kitchen'a door, hoping no one would hear her.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Carrie sobs in relief.

"Miss are you okay?" the call-taker asks.

"No, my twin is being abused! My foster parents are doing drugs and their daughter wouldn't stop crying. Please help me," Carrie sobbed harder.

"Okay, what's your name, sweetheart?"

"C-carrie."

"Okay, Carrie. Where do you live?"

"I-I'm not sure. They took u-us here blindfolded." Carrie sniffled.

"No problem, sweetheart. Help is on the way. Keep on the phone with-"

"CARRIE!"

Carrie flinches, " Y-yes mom?"

"Bring your brother out of my sight! And clean the blood!" she yelled.

"C-coming!"

She brings the phone near to her ear again, "please be quick," she begs. She then ends the call, ignoring the call-takers protest. She couldn't risk it.

As she puts down the phone on the kitchen counter again, she hears a loud knock on the door followed by "Police! Open up!"

She ran to the door as fast as she can. Someone pulled her back.

"No!" she shouts, she can hear something cracks when she hits the floor.

"OPEN UP!" the police outside yelled.

"This is your doing?" her foster father stalked to her. She sobbed, trying to get away from him.

"Ungrateful bitch! I gave you a place to stay and this is what you did?!" he kicks Carrie's back.

Carrie just wraps herself in a ball, readying herself for the next kick. She flinches when she heard a loud bang of a gun followed by a thud. She closes her eyes.

And soon, the darkness consumed her.

***
3 years later...

Carrie munched down her croissant. Her other hand holding a sketchbook.

She's accepted to a top college in her city a few years ago. She's an art student now.

She is different from the Carrie in that foster house. But the trauma will forever haunt her.

After that night, she was being taken to another foster house for a few months until she graduates. She then goes to college along with her brother while Gina stays.

Her foster parent refuses to surrender. The police were forced to shoot them in place.

Her best friend didn't make it. Her disease was too fatal.

The guilt of not being there in her best friend's last moment is eating Carrie alive. The guilt of all the deaths she causes. The guilt that her dead friend can't reach her dream to be a musician. It's all too much for her at some points.

But her brother was always there for her. And she couldn't be any happier.

***