Everything that goes up in flames must die. Teenaged girls are cruel, and yet no one seems to comment on it. It is a harsh reality that all too often gets swept under the rug to keep the status quo intact. But Carrie notices the pain of cruelty: she learnt the hard way. There are scars, but not ones that show up on her body. The scars are internal, gnawing at her and keeping her heart beating at a slower pace to remind her of the pain of loneliness. A lump forms in her throat, forcing Carrie to keep her mouth shut; she is repressed and oppressed, both of these words Carrie learnt from history about marginalization (she's not sure she can pronounce that word right, and she's astonished she can remember it).

Carrie is a marginalized girl, put on a pedestal as a punching bag to be mocked. It humiliates her to be treated this way.

After the tampon incident, the Girls keep leering at her with disdainful giggles and malicious leering. They are a collective that exist with one goal: torment Carrie. They are like a swarm of locusts, pesky until they get too large to deal with by conventional means. Carrie can't decide if she fears them or if she wants them to leave her alone. They are diabolical in their mean actions, and Carrie feels alone. She is isolated in a fast paced world of sound and color and constant movement. The world funneled into the narrow halls of school, and the bubble of the four walls stretching out ahead of her seemed daunting. The walls blind her in their scruffed, weathered beige tones, and the scuffling of shoes atop linoleum floors acts as white noise.

She cannot trust anyone in the faculty, because they are not able to see her for the struggles she goes through. It's almost as if her struggles aren't real, because she isn't pretty or clever or popular or likeable. She resigns herself to suffering in silence.

The outside world scares Carrie more. It is unpredictable. At school, everyone has a role to play and a routine to follow. Those who break rules are reprimanded, and those who follow rules are rewarded. Carrie exists in a limbo where she is not a rule breaker, but not a rule follower either. She does what is asked of her to the best of her ability, but it is not enough. Mama's words ring in Carrie's ears: only God can judge you. And so He has, by bestowing high school upon Carrie without further guidance.

Her skin itches and aches upon thinking of the world's hardships. She has the depths of her mind to remind her of her sorrow. At the very least, she has her telekinesis. It helps Carrie remember that there's something about her that makes her stand apart. Carrie secretly looks down Her telekinesis becomes easier to control the more she practices, but every time she practices, her skin itches. She fears it's a bad omen, and Mama can detect when Carrie sustains any kind of bad omen.

Carrie pushes past the fear of bad omens, and it is probably terrible judgment, but Carrie is beyond the point of caring. She is powerful, a force of nature repressed by fear and bullying. No one has and no one will ask her to prom, so she doesn't even have that small pleasure to look forward to. It isn't fair that conventional beauty with a mixture of book smarts nurtured by approved ways of socialization through vapid people and fleeting scenarios. Carrie has no access to that, and she hates it; she hates being overlooked because she is not good enough or pure enough or happy enough or lovely enough.

Maybe Mama's right, Carrie thinks with bitterness, maybe I do have the Devil within me. She has the righteous fury within her, and her power rings in her ears. The students around her, clumped together in selective groups, stop in their tracks. They all cover their ears simultaneously, shaking and vomiting. Students not affected by random spurts of pain let their shock show, and call for teachers as they sob, attacked by uncontrollable sensations that hurt them so deeply, they will not find the words to describe it once their minds are free.

She ignores the pain in her skin as she stares at the groups of people in her peripheral vision in as much pain as Carrie is, and she remembers that she is full of rage. She is bent on revenge, and these feelings bubble within, unstoppable and white hot. At this point, teachers who were called arrive on the scene. Those on the scene fall to their knees in pain. The hallway becomes a cacophony of screeching, desperate pleas for help.

Carrie looks on, helpless.

There's a dull ache behind her eyes, and she dimly wonders if everyone's in pain because of her because she wasn't able to choose who to take revenge on because the list was too extensive. A nagging voice in the back of her mind, in the sound of her mother, screams at Carrie to stop. It is difficult to tune out, and Carrie swims in guilt.

She prowls to class in physical pain, which accentuated the beginnings of what would be a powerful migraine. Revenge is a dish best served on Carrie's own terms, and she lacks the knowledge to define her terms. She walks out of class still affected by waves of pain, and it seems like even her body punishes her for her emotions. Carrie regains a sense of grounding, and she remembers that she fears going home; Mama will know that she is a bad omen, and Mama will punish her because Mama is most pious and only the most pious can enact God's judgement with His permission. Mama has reminded Carrie all too often that Mama has received God's blessing to judge. She is also the jury, and Carrie knows that Mama leans toward cruelty but without the youthful energy of teenaged girls.

Carrie feels something squeeze her chest, and her body begins to shake so hard that Carrie can't stand up straight. This energy, frenetic and never ending, is panic, probably. The anger h coalesces to anxiety and her mind fogs up. There is no trigger point that Carrie consciously knows is the trigger to this avalanche of feelings; she begs her mind to turn off, to stop working, to kill Carrie so she can stop feeling so much and so deeply.

There is a reason for everything. Carrie must be evil, she realizes as her heart races and her skin feels like it's going to peel off, if she is like this.

I should revel in this evil, Carrie thinks, emboldened by the haze of her mind.

Without a second thought, the school bursts into flames. Carrie gasps, because this shouldn't have happened and Mama's body appears in front of Carrie. Mama looks like a ghost: ethereal and...

"This is your fault, you dirty filthy slut!" Mama shouts as the school burns into flames, everything crumbling right before Carrie's paralyzed eye. it can't truly be her and yet, she appears in front of Carrie as real as day. She is full of so many regrets, drowning in all that she hasn't done and she is frantic, too much adrenaline pumping through her- - -

Everything that goes up in flames must die.