Shining among Darkness

By
WingzemonX

Chapter 24
Carrie White

Matilda couldn't believe what had just happened in that cafeteria. She hurried through the silent corridors, her heels clicking on the linoleum as everything was quite quiet. She walked firm and determined on the outside, but inside... she felt like she was running away.

She had pushed that man several meters toward that table without holding back. How did that happen? Years, many years had passed since the last time she lost control of her powers like that. Or... hadn't she really lost control? Had she done it consciously because she wanted to? Matilda didn't know which of the two possibilities scared her the most, and that idea made her head spin.

She was tired, stressed, and worried; that was the reason, for sure. Her humor was shattered enough without having a complete stranger pushing her buttons, especially the button called Carrie White.

Why was everyone reminding her lately? As if it were some kind of complot. Eleven first, then Samara, Cody, and now this cop come from who knows where. Everyone talking about Carrie, recriminating her in some way or another, pressing and pressing until taking her to the limit of her patience.

Hadn't she gone through too much that day? Didn't she already have too much to worry about with Samara, Lily Sullivan, and this stranger called Leena Klammer? But no one would think about it at all. She would only be a hysterical woman who reacted to everything, and who had made the first blow without stopping to consider the consequences. If Eleven hadn't done everything in her power to remove her from the case, surely now she would manage to do it.

Matilda went out into the courtyard, almost slamming the doors. It was the same space that she had gone out with Samara some time ago to see the sunrise. She hadn't headed there for any particular reason, except the need to get some air and clear herself. It was already dusk, and the white light lanterns were on. However, they left a considerable part in relative darkness. She walked to one of the benches, with her back to the door, and sat on it. She leaned her head back and began to breathe slowly, trying to normalize her state... but it didn't work. Inevitably, it came to her mind that it was right there where Samara had asked that unexpected question:

"Who's Carrie?"

Dr. Honey leaned forward, holding her broken cell phone in her hands, and sticking her chin against it. She didn't even know why she had taken it if it was broken anyway. A pure reflection, she supposed.

"And you did it? Could you help her?"

"I did my best try."

"But you failed. You failed, right? You couldn't help her. Are you going to fail with me? Will you leave me too?"

Her fingers tightened around the phone. Now she leaned her forehead against her hands and closed her eyes tight, trying to contain the urge to cry.

Yes, she failed, failed like never before. Matilda Honey, the perfect girl, Eleven's favorite, the one who knew everything and could do everything, failed Carrie White...

****

Shortly after finished her Ph.D. at Yale (the same Ph.D. in which her path intersected with Doug Ames), Matilda returned to California with her mother for a couple of years. Her residence at that site, however, was more than anything symbolic. Whit her higher studies completed, she began to help more actively in the Eleven Foundation. Because of this, during those two years, she was traveling quite a bit to different parts of the country, sometimes spending short to medium periods in those places.

She met quite a few people on that journey, especially boys and girls who shine. Before that, she had already met others like her at the Foundation, including Cody. But it was not until the moment she began to act, no longer as a patient or beneficiary of the organization's activities but as an active wheel of its operation, that she was aware of the number of children that were out there with the Shining, and how much she could do for them.

After those two years, she made the decision to move to Boston on her own and open her own private practice in that city. The decision did not entirely please her mother, but in the end, she supported her as she always had. But of all the possible cities, why Boston? There was no particular reason she could think of.

While she was studying at Yale, she visited it frequently, but also New York (and perhaps more).

It was relatively closer than Indiana, and therefore to Eleven if anything was needed. However, still there was a considerable distance of a few thousand miles.

The weather is fine, but it wasn't perfect, either.

Each positive aspect that she tried to attribute to Boston was, in turn, accompanied by a but. Not so important but equally sufficient to not consider it entirely her "perfect city."

After what happened later, she would wonder (even on that bench in the hospital courtyard four years later) if that decision could be affected by that special "something" in her that had pushed to be in the right place and time... or wrong.

A few weeks before moving, Matilda had made a first trip to choose an apartment and a place for her office. The first had been easy to choose, as she really wasn't too picky about where to live; if it was clean and safe, and had space for all her books, the rest would come along.

Choosing an office had been a more interesting challenge, as she really wanted to find a site that was not only pleasing to her, but to her potential patients. The fifth site she visited was chosen at the end, located on the eighth floor of an office building. It had the right space, the right location, and a beautiful view of the city. I had its touch of elegance without being presumptuous. Matilda thought it would work, and at least so far, it had.

Basically, it consisted of a waiting room, her office where she would receive patients, and two bathrooms (one in the waiting room and another in the office for her personal use). Even so, it took two weeks to be able to furnish it, paint it and condition it to her tastes, at the same time as she did the same with her new apartment. Even after those two weeks, she kept tweaking things, like setting up her desktop computer, internet connection, landline phone, etc. It was just what she was dealing with that afternoon.

"You don't need to hire a technician for everything," the psychiatrist murmured optimistically, practically hiding under her new, slightly rustic-looking mahogany desk. She was trying to route the connection cables to the top. "Especially for something as basic as connecting some cables."

"It's not shameful to ask people for help, Matilda," Jennifer Honey's voice, coming from her cell phone on the speaker next to the floor, answered almost as a scolding. "Especially when it comes to something you don't know much about. Even you have to have themes that you don't completely master."

"I know, I know, and it's not about that," Matilda muttered as she struggled to run the video cable through the hole in the desk, so she could connect her computer to a flat screen that she was going to mount on the wall. "I just want everything to be fair and as I imagine. If I do it wrong, it'll be my fault, right?"

She did not say it only for her office, but also for all that new life that was beginning. Although she had spent a long time living alone while studying, that was somewhat different. Now she was no longer a student, but an entire adult who had to stand on her own from then on. Maybe she was exaggerating, but her way of being made her act like that.

"I should be there helping you get settled," Jennifer commented with some regret in her voice. "I could take a few days off and go there."

"Don't worry, everything is under control, and it's almost over. Better come when everything is ready, and so you could take some real days off for a change."

"Was that a reproach?" Miss Honey blurted out in an annoyed, ironic tone. "Well, you could also take some once in a while, you know?"

"Touché... it seems that at some point in our lives, we both became allergic to vacations... ready!" She exclaimed triumphantly when she finally managed to get the cable through. "Now, all remained is to connect it... and of course, mount the screen."

"Hi?" Matilda heard at that moment how a new voice murmured, somewhat distant, possibly from the corridor door that didn't even have her name on it yet. "Good afternoon...?"

Matilda became alert to the sudden presence.

"Give me a minute! I'll be right away!" She yelled loudly to be heard, then turned to her phone for a second. "I have to hang up. Maybe they bring me some of the furniture I ordered."

"Okay, check me out if anything happens. And if it doesn't happen too."

"Yes, I know it," she murmured somewhat amusedly before cutting the call. Obviously, she would have to have a good time in this facet of assimilation by her adoptive mother. After spending so much time apart while studying at Yale, she would have expected this to take much more naturally.

She caught herself so immersed in those thoughts that when she rose to get out from under the desk, she ended up hitting her forehead with the edge of it. It was a light blow, but enough to knock her back onto the ground, and she let out a loud exclamation of pain. She brought her right hand to the exact point of the blow. Apparently, she wasn't bleeding or anything like that, but it had been sore.

"Excuse me... Are you okay?" She heard the same voice a few minutes ago murmur with concern, now closer, possibly already at the open door in her office.

"Yes, of course," Matilda murmured jovially, removing any traces of pain that might reduce her. She crawled out from under the desk and quickly sat up straight, and with her hands, she settled and shook her hair and clothes as best she could. Then she turned to her visitor, with an affable and friendly smile, hoping that at that moment she didn't have any bump on her forehead that would give her away. "Excuse me, I'm just getting settled, and everything is still a mess. But come in, go ahead."

Looking more closely at the person standing at her door, she almost entirely ruled out that it was some kind of delivery. She was actually a young girl, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, with slightly curly reddish blonde hair with a misaligned appearance, even a little oily if it hadn't washed in a few days. Despite this, her face, in general, was fine-featured, charming, sharp, with deep teal eyes, but somewhat dull, and quite remarkable lips. She did not have a gram of makeup on it; Matilda could see it from her position. But even so, she had a singular natural beauty, despite some few acne marks, especially on her forehead. Her complexion was slim, or Matilda believed so. She wore a long green dress, without any type of print on it, and covered her from the base of the neck to a little above the ankles. Over her shoulders, and wrapping her arms, she wore a thick blue sweater, possibly wool; it seemed too much since they were no longer in winter. Hanging from her right shoulder was a slightly rustic-looking green backpack, and a dull metallic crucifix loomed from her neck, which was perhaps the only accessory she brought.

Her posture was somewhat insecure, from her self-conscious gaze to how she stood. Her hands gripped the strap of the backpack, tightening her fingers around it nervously. When Matilda motioned for her to pass, she took a couple of fearful steps into the office, her gaze downcast.

"I'm sorry... Are you Dr. Matilda Honey?" The young girl asked slowly, without looking directly at her. She seemed to be looking instead at the desk or somewhere between it and the psychiatrist.

Matilda smiled, but without exaggeration, and answered her with the softest tone she could. It was evident that she needed to feel confident in some way.

"I am," she murmured as she got around the desk.

At that moment, the girl dared to look at her directly for a few seconds, and for that small moment, her shyness was overshadowed with great amazement.

"Amazing!" The girl exclaimed suddenly with a little more force but immediately brought her thin fingers to her lips as if she felt ashamed of her action. "Sorry, it's just... you look so young."

"I hear that often," Matilda answered quietly, shrugging. "Just give me a second, and I'm with you."

Matilda turned to the desk, trying to collect everything that shouldn't be there to store in the drawers. The girl was still looking at her in front of the door, and then she dared to take a few more steps.

"I... the door was open..." she stammered slowly, "I don't know if I could... enter ..."

"No, no, don't worry," Matilda answered hastily, waving her right hand carelessly as she continued to accommodate. "As I told you, I'm barely getting settled, and I haven't even hired an assistant yet to handle the door."

Matilda then took as much as she could, went back to the back of the desk, and put everything in the first drawer on the right. Now everything looked a little more orderly, for a change. She put her hands on the desk and looked at her visitor again without turning off her smile.

"What can I do for you?"

The young girl winced at that question and seemed to notice as if the blood had risen suddenly to the head because her face turned noticeably red at the time. She shifted her gaze to another non-specific point, and her fingers kept moving discreetly through the strap of his backpack.

"I... don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Maybe I was wrong in..." As she turned her gaze in some other possible direction, she ended up meeting the huge window on her right, which faced the view of the city. "Holy God! What a beautiful sight!"

Again her nerves were gone, just for a few moments, and her feet moved on their own to the window. From it, she could see other buildings and streets, as well as vehicles that were seen far away.

"Right?" Matilda exclaimed with some pride. "It was one of the reasons why I chose this site."

The young girl seemed to be going with all the intention of even sticking her face against the glass. Still, she stopped half a meter away, as if forcing herself to stop, and even then, she stepped back, embarrassed. Always, her eyes kept discreetly looking outward.

"I've never seen a city with such huge buildings," she murmured very slowly as if it were a thought that fleetingly escaped from her head.

Matilda looked at her curiously, sitting against the edge of her desk.

"You're not from here?"

"No, I... I'm from Chamberlain, in Maine."

"Chamberlain?" Matilda snapped, narrowing her eyes in a thoughtful gesture as she tried to discover in the library of her memory some reference to a city with that name. However, her consultation did not give any results.

"If you don't know it, it's normal," the girl pointed out, turning back to her. She crossed her arms over her torso as a protective gesture. "There is... nothing interesting there. I think it's a pretty boring town."

Maybe she thought so, but in her experience traveling around the country, she had discovered that each town, as boring as it may be, has something that makes it unique. After finishing that talk, the first thing Matilda would do would be to search for that name on the internet.

"And is it your first time in Boston?" The psychiatrist asked with genuine interest.

The young blonde smiled in amusement, showing her white teeth a little.

"It's the first time I left Chamberlain, actually. I've never done anything like this before. Skip the school, take a bus by myself, travel to another city. It's... exciting..." Her face lit up slightly, matching her words, and that modest smile widened as a symptom of this. However, this was short, because almost immediately, it made a somewhat somber and melancholy gesture again. The hug she made on herself also became more pressing, even terrifying. "If my mother found out it, she'd surely go crazy. I don't know what I'm going to tell her if she finds out... God says you shall not lie, and honor your parents, but sometimes it seems like you have no other choice."

Matilda tilted her head to the side, quickly analyzing everything she had just said. She had just given her quite a few pieces of information about herself, some quite significant.

"Are you a religious person?"

"Yes, I suppose so," the girl replied, although she didn't feel very sure of her answer.

"What is your name?"

She was startled then, almost scared as if she had just realized a severe mistake.

"Yes, sorry," she sighed sadly, and her face reddened again. "Carrie... Carrie White."

Matilda smiled. Back then, it seemed like good progress. She was unaware, however, that it would be a name she would not easily forget, even four years later.

"Would you like to take a seat?" Matilda offered gently, reaching for one of the chairs in front of her desk. Carrie nodded her head and hurried towards the chair, without turning to see it. She placed her backpack on the floor to the side, and sat with her back straight, without touching the backrest. Matilda took a seat in the other chair but turned it so that they were both facing each other. "What can I do for you, Carrie?"

The young woman pressed her lips a little and looked absentmindedly at the desk.

"I don't know how to explain it."

"Don't worry, just relax. Do you want some water?"

"No, thanks."

"Why don't we start with something simple? How did you find me?"

"I... I was doing research... a lot, on the computers in the library." There was a strange feeling in her voice when she mentioned computers. It was an expression of strangeness or remoteness as if she were talking about some peculiar food from a country she had never visited, or trying to describe an animal she had never seen. "And between all that I read, your name came up, and the Foundation to which you belong... Eleven, as the number, right?"

"That's right," Matilda answered confidently outside. However, on the inside, she was trying to identify where that office's address might already be registered to be thrown into a search on the internet. She also wondered if that had been Eleven's work or someone else's within the Foundation. "What exactly were you investigating?"

Carrie hugged herself again and tried harder than she could to raise her gaze to her, though not directly to her face.

"Since... a couple of weeks ago, something's been happening to me. I read a lot of books, and information on the computer about it, and I found that you, well... you have helped other children with something similar. And I know I'm not a child, but when I read that you had an office here in Boston, I thought maybe... you could..."

Her words were cut off. She seemed unable to finish the sentence, but it was not necessary.

"I totally understand, take it easy," the psychiatrist mused, leaning her body slightly forward. "And don't worry. Although my specialty is Child Psychology, I am here to help anyone who requires me. What has been happening to you?" There was a lot of apprehension in the girl's eyes at the idea of ​​answering her. "I assure you that everything you tell me will stay with me." Her statement did not seem to improve her condition much. "Would it be easier for you to show it to me?"

Carrie pondered for a few moments. She turned her gaze slowly to her left, toward the desk. Matilda had kept several of the things that were there a moment ago, but there were still papers and an empty Starbucks glass on it. Carrie focused her gaze on the paper cup, very focused. After a couple of seconds, that glass began to slide across the surface of the desk. About halfway, it rose a few inches, floating in a straight line, straight toward her. Carrie held out her hand, and the glass placed itself on it.

Then she turned to see Matilda. She had watched the entire act in silence, with utmost... tranquility, so much so that it puzzled the girl a little.

"Impressive," the psychiatrist murmured calmly.

"You don't seem surprised. Have you really seen someone else do this before?"

"You could say, yes," she replied, trying not to sound sarcastic by accident. "How much more can you do?"

A more tangible trace of confidence was present on Carrie's face. She turned to the desk again, but now her attention was focused on the piece of furniture and not on what was on it. The desk wobbled a few millimeters to one side, then the same distance to the other, and then it began to rise in a straight line, slowly toward the ceiling, until it was inches from it. There it lay, still and stable. Carrie watched it from her seat with pride.

"Very well, you can put down it now," Matilda pointed out, still calm. Carrie obeyed, and the desk carefully lowered back into its original position next to both of them.

"I think I can do more," said the young blonde. "I feel like I can do more. But I'm afraid of... passing me by."

"I totally understand you," Matilda agreed. She sat up straight in her chair and crossed her legs. "How old are you, Carrie?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in September."

"Are you about to graduate?" Carrie shyly nodded her head. "Good for you. You said it started happening to you a few weeks ago, right?

"Yes."

"You haven't seen any signs or something similar has happened to you before?"

"Not that I remember. I once heard someone comment about a stone rain that fell on my house when I was a child."

"Stone rain?" Matilda mumbled, somewhat intrigued.

"I don't remember any of that. I thought about asking my mother, but..." Her lips tightened a little again, and she contracted herself. "I'd instead not do it... I don't really know if that had anything to do with me. But really before this, everything in my life had been quite... normal."

Matilda thought a little about that account. Stone rain? It wasn't something she'd heard before. She would have to ask at the Foundation to see if anyone could give her a reason for that. Meanwhile, she continued with her questions.

"When it started, did anything unusual happen to you? Anything specific that happened to you right at the same time this started?" Carrie thought about it for a bit, but after a few seconds, a mixture of different feelings emerged from her at the same time. The most notable were shame... and anger. "You shouldn't feel ashamed. You had your first period, right?"

Carrie's eyes widened in amazement, and her cheeks reddened again.

"How do you know? Does that... have something to do with this?"

"It is probable. Do you eat well?"

"I think..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'm just trying to rule out factors. That your first period has been delayed so long, could be due to problems with your diet. But, in this particular case, after what you have shown me, I am more inclined to say that it may be a symptom of a hormonal imbalance."

"That's serious?" Carrie exclaimed, visibly concerned.

"It may bring you some trouble in the long run, but it's totally treatable. Depending on the grade, it could be solved only by modifying your diet or exercise habits or perhaps requiring medication. It would be best if you talked to your gynecologist about it. And if you haven't visited one yet, I would recommend that you start doing it regularly."

"Gyne...?" Carrie tensed gravely. "No, no, my mother would never allow it. She doesn't believe much in doctors. But... if I take those medications, will these powers... disappear?"

Matilda realized that the idea had caused great concern in the girl, and she couldn't help but smile inside. For some others, it would be strange. Still, even in the worst moments when her abilities got out of control, Matilda never consciously wished they would disappear. It was almost like wanting to take out an eye.

"No, they won't," Matilda replied cheerfully. "Maybe I didn't explain myself well, but listen. If what I think is accurate, and what you have told me so far seems to indicate that yes, the truth is that you have had these abilities all this time. They usually arise at a younger age, but in your case, they have been asleep and dormant all these years, due to the particular composition of your brain chemistry and your hormone levels. With the arrival of your first period, now they have awakened and will always be there. Because they are part of you, part of who you are. What you have is something extraordinary and unique. It's a gift, Carrie, a beautiful gift."

The girl looked at her, amazed by everything she said. A sincere and broad smile of happiness, although more of relief, was drawn on her pink lips.

"Really?" She sighed comfortably. "I was so scared that this was something evil, but when I use it... I feel liberated, you know?"

More than you think, Matilda thought to herself.

"There is nothing evil in you, Carrie. And it was very wise of you to seek help. I can help you to better understand this skill and control it. You can have a completely normal life, and you can even enjoy your gift and be happy with it. If you let me."

"I..." Carrie hesitated uncertainly. She looked over Matilda at the windows again, then took a quick look at her small wristwatch, nothing flashy and actually quite simple. "Oh, God. It's too late," she exclaimed worriedly, and quickly stood up and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. "I have to take the bus back. If I'm not at home at three, my mother... Oh, God."

Apparently, she was quite apprehensive about her mother. Usually, it would not be something very strange coming from a young teenager. Still, in her case, it seemed something even more intense. If Matilda had to make the first diagnosis, she would say that Carrie probably belongs to a family with strong religious values, with strict and severe parents who did not give much openness to their individual expression. Being raised in those circumstances and suddenly discover that was capable of doing things far beyond what most would consider "normal," could create a strong feeling of confusion that would definitely need guidance.

"Yes, all right," Matilda replied, also standing up from her chair. "But I would like to see you again. Do you want to schedule a more formal appointment?"

"No... I..." Her hands gripped the strap of her backpack nervously. "I don't think I can come back here again."

"Okay, I can go to see you if you prefer."

"To Chamberlain?"

"Yes. I could also talk with your parents. They must understand what is happening to you, and they can support you..."

"No!" She exclaimed loudly suddenly, almost terrified. "Not my mother, no. You don't understand. If she found out about this... Anything about this... I have to go."

She walked quickly, almost running toward the exit with her head down. Matilda said nothing or tried to stop her; after that reaction, it would be better for her to withdraw if she really wanted to. Carrie left the office, left the office, and then she didn't see her anymore.

But Matilda would not leave things like that; she could not do it. In the time she had been at the Foundation, she had met several needy boys, but this girl, although she did not yet know her completely, was perhaps the neediest of them all. She did not know yet why, but something made her feel so. Was it her Shining speaking to her? Or perhaps her own experience and knowledge that told her to pay attention to all the signs? It didn't really matter; she would also listen to it.

- - - -

The first thing Matilda did as soon as she had a chance, was inform Eleven about their encounter, with the main emphasis being on the unique signs she had noticed. Eleven agreed with her that it was a case worth getting involved in, but she pointed out that Matilda shouldn't force the things. If the girl did not want her intervention in any way, she should not place her in a position that would negatively affect her. Matilda was aware of that and usually would not insist more than necessary. However, with this particular girl, she felt it was worth the extra effort.

Matilda requested permission to use Foundation trackers to search for more information about Carrie; Eleven granted it to her. The first information came in the mail just a couple of hours after her call to Eleven ended. It wasn't much yet, and in fact, it turned out to be something they didn't even need to use their unique skills to find. The email came from Lucy, one of the trackers with whom I had the most contact for such cases, although she had never seen her in person or even spoken on the phone. Matilda didn't even know if Lucy was her real name or where she lived. The subject of the email was simply "Carrie White - 1", hinting that it was only the first report. The text of the email was much more straightforward:

You have to see this.

Followed by a link to a video. This puzzled Matilda, and without hesitation, she entered to the link to see it.

She would not be sure later if she would have preferred not to have done that...

In the beginning, the video was confusing. Apparently, everything happened in some kind of locker room, school, or gym. Several voices could be heard shouting in chorus: "Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!" And among all the hustle and bustle of furs and towels, the figure of a person was distinguished, naked, lying on the bathroom tile floor, shrinking in itself in sobs. She was surrounded by people, and they threw white objects at her while they kept repeating: "Plug it up! Plug it up!"

"Holy God..." Matilda exclaimed in horror. She turned the video back a bit and stopped it just to focus on the person on the ground. She hesitated at first but then had no doubt: it was her, it was Carrie White. She could also see more clearly what the other girls were throwing at her: tampons and sanitary towels.

Matilda felt a jumble in her stomach. She forced herself to watch the video several times to understand the situation. Those must be the locker rooms at her school, and therefore the girls around would be her classmates. She could only guess, but considering what they yelled at and what was thrown, added to what Carrie herself had told her about the delay of her period... had it gotten there for the first time in the shower? And had her friends taunted, yelled at her, and thrown tampons while she cried on the floor? And on top of all, had it been recorded and uploaded to the internet?

Anger seized in Matilda little by little, no matter how much she wanted to avoid it. She should not take these cases as something personal, it was almost the first rule of the manual. But it was hard for her not to. It was hard for her to watch that video and not remember that thirteen-year-old girl being bullied, harassed, and mistreated by her schoolmates, just for being a little... different

Lucy would pass more information to her the next day (Carrie White - 2). It would mostly confirm what her assumptions from watching the video told her. Still, it would also add something she wouldn't have predicted from her interview with Carrie. In essence, she didn't know about the period before that incident, or at least that's what some people said. Matilda was stunned to read that. How could this be possible? Didn't her mother talk to her about it? Hadn't they told about in class? Perhaps it was indeed just a rumor.

In addition to this, her father had apparently died before she was born in a tragic workplace accident. Her mother, Margaret White, had raised her alone. During her early years, she had not let her go to school and homeschool her until the authorities took action on the matter. Her grades were quite average, and even low in some subjects. She did not belong to any club or extracurricular activity, part-time job, or any known boyfriend or friend. Her entire public life seemed to be reduced to going to school and going home. The video and the incident behind it appeared to be the highlight of Carrie's life. Other than that, there seemed to be almost nothing to say about her.

Matilda felt a lot of regret and sorrow. What kind of life did that girl really lead?

The last thing in Lucy's mail was the current address Carrie lived with her mother in Chamberlain, Maine; there was no home or cell phone, or email. Lucy promised to inform her more if she found anything, but she also warned that she didn't think there was much more to say about. But it didn't matter; for now, it was enough to act.

END OF CHAPTER 24

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

—The depiction of Carrie White shown in this chapter is primarily based on Carrie (2013) movie version of her physical appearance and some aspects of her personality. However, it will also take into account some characteristics of the character, her personality, her appearance, and her story that were only seen in the original Stephen King novel. The events of this flashback, and the following chapters, will also be very much based on the 2013 film (mainly to place the events in more recent times). Still, in general, it will be managed as an Alternate Universe, where things will not happen precisely as in some of the previously known versions, similar perhaps to how the story of Samara or Damien has been handled. This will become clearer in the next chapters.