Chapter nineteen:
I look through Carrie’s CDs, and I realize that I don’t recognize any of them—not a single name or track. And I know that I’ve been away for a long, long time, but I didn’t realize I was so out of the loop on things.
I go through her DVD collection and find the same thing. But I’m more shocked here because there’s no old movies, only new ones. Carrie used to love old movies. Anything with Cary Grant in it was always a winner. I smile at the memory of watching those movies with her. Huddled under blankets and eating popcorn my mom made.
My mom liked Carrie at first. She thought she just needed to be loved. But after a while, she said it was more than that. Worse than that. She said there was probably no saving Carrie.
I hated my mom for saying that for two reasons.
One.
Everyone could be saved if you tried hard enough. And my mom just wasn’t trying hard enough, in my opinion. Carrie’s mom wasn’t trying hard enough either. Carrie’s dad wasn’t trying hard enough. The school wasn’t trying hard enough. The neighbors weren’t trying hard enough. Carrie thought it was funny how everyone wanted to save her unless it required some effort.
I told her it wasn’t funny at all.
Two.
Carrie was loved. By me.
My mom still let Carrie come around and watch movies though. She didn’t stop her from coming around the house for a long time. Not until things got really bad. One day Carrie’s dad turned up at the door. He slammed his fist against it and made the glass shake. I worried that it would break.
Mom answered it and he pushed her aside and she nearly fell over.
He smelled of liquor.
He didn’t even say anything to Carrie. She just stood up and started to leave with him
My mom said that she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to. That she was cooking a pot roast and Carrie could stay for dinner if she wanted. I begged her to stay. Carrie’s dad gripped her shoulder tightly and glared down at her, but he still didn’t speak. My mom said my dad would be home soon. She said she could call the police. She said Carrie would be safe here, if she wanted to stay. If she didn’t want to go home.
And I begged Carrie to listen.
But she didn’t listen.
And she didn’t stay.
She smiled and walked away with him, and after that Mom said we couldn’t have Carrie in the house anymore because her dad frightened her.
I begged my mom not to be like that. But she wouldn’t listen. And later that night I heard my mom and dad arguing. I sat at the top of the stairs, listening to their quiet argument, only catching words that floated up to me. I didn’t understand most of them. Or maybe I did, but I refused to hear them.
I went back to my room once I heard the verdict. Dad agreed with Mom, that Carrie wouldn’t be allowed inside anymore. “She’s trouble,” they said.
I pushed open my bedroom door and found Carrie sitting on my bed. She was crying. She was hugging her knees to her chest. She looked up when I came in, and then she asked me to hold her. So I did.
I didn’t care what my mom and dad said.
See, Carrie? I broke all the rules for you.
*
I don’t even realize I’m crying until I am. Until the tears are dripping down off my chin and onto the floor at my feet. I peel the bottom of my tee up and wipe my wet face with it. My clothes are hard and dry; they’re uncomfortable, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
‘Why are you crying?’she says.
I look up and see that her eyes are open. Her mouth is still covered so I know she didn’t really speak. I know it was just in my head.
“Oh, Carrie, I’m so sorry.” I sob harder. “I don’t like tying you up, but you were hurting yourself.”
I go to her and I collapse to my knees by her side. She mumbles something behind the gag and shuffles away from me.
