Priestess Adularia: Still not very popular, but whatever. Thank you to those who did review. And for those who haven't seen/read Carrie, I assure you you'll still understand the majority of it.
To SugarDevil: That made a minimal amount of sense, but here goes nothing…
Well, Carrie's mom is a religious freak who, if you haven't noticed, hates breasts big or small. Also, I don't think chest size matters because most moms would be upset about a dress where the nipples stick out…
In the book, Carrie wears baggy clothes that do hide her breasts and they are very big unlike in the movie.
From Nevermore, Pg. 41:
Both medical and psychological writers on the subject are in agreement that the exceptionally late and undeniably traumatic commencement of Raven Roth's first menstrual cycle may well have provided the trigger for the horror that was the prom.
It seems inconceivable that, at the age of sixteen, Raven should know nothing of the woman's monthly cycle. It is nearly as incredible that Mrs. Roth would permit her daughter to reach this age without consulting a gynecologist on her daughter's menstruation.
But the facts are irrefutable. Raven was entirely innocent to the concept of menstruation, and her first period resulted in hysterics.
According to ex-principle Victor Stone, his now-dead fiancée Sarah Charles told him Raven believed she was bleeding to death.
Survivor Stella Andrews states that fellow student Kitten Moss, daughter of bug expert Collin Moss, had come into the locker room one day and seen Raven blotting her lipstick with a tampon. Stella is believed by some experts to be a liar or insane…
If anyone tried to inform Raven of the true use of tampons, it is more than likely that she expected it to be an attempt at trickery.
Considering everything, it is hard to blame her…
The hallway was thankfully empty. Lockers hung open, contents strewn across the ground. Raven sat on a bench outside the teacher's office, meditating silently.
Two Spanish twins, Matt and Paul, were walking by. Everybody knew Matt and Paul, they were the stars of the school track team.
"And my locker just slammed open, everything flew out. I couldn't make it close!"
"That happened to everyone."
They glanced at Raven.
"Hey, look!" said one of them. Paul, she thought. "It's the witch!"
Both of them laughed. The one who hadn't spoken—Matt—gave her the finger.
She shot them a glare as they walked past her. Suddenly, all the lockers slammed shut. One hit Paul, who slammed into Matt. They skidded across the ground.
Raven dropped her head to the fists clenched in her lap, breathing hard.
"Isn't she a bit old for her first period?"
The man speaking was Victor Stone, school principal who happened to be engaged to Ms. Charles. Though bald, he still retained the muscular figure he had possessed as a child. He had been Olympic material until an accident killed his parents. Because of the accident, he had to wear an eye patch. But his good eye was bright blue and friendly.
"I know," replied Sarah Charles. "But it was."
"And she had no idea what was going on? That's…"
"Incredible? Impossible? Inconceivable? Knowing that mother of hers, it's no surprise. Vic, she thought she was bleeding to death."
"But she's all right now?"
"Yes. She seems quite bitter, though. She said they threw things. Laughed at her. She said they always laughed."
Vic's eyebrows rose up to his nonexistent hairline. "They really laughed at her?"
"Worse. When I came in they were chanting, 'plug it up!' and throwing tampons and sanitary napkins like…like peanuts."
"Oh dear. You have names?"
"Not all of them. Carol Andrews seemed to be the ringleader."
"As usual. Let me guess, Tara Markov and Kitten Moss?"
"Of course. And Carol's sister, Stella." She frowned. "You wouldn't expect this from Stella. She's never seemed the type for this sort of a—a stunt."
"Did you talk to the girls involved?"
"I told them to get the Hell out. Raven was screaming like no tomorrow. I've never heard her scream before, you know. She barely ever speaks."
"Do you plan to talk to them?"
"I plan to rip them down one side and up the other. By the way, a light bulb blew out. It added the final touch. Also, I think Raven should be allowed to go home."
"Of course." He turned to his secretary. "I need a dismissal slip for Ruth Dove?"
Ms. Charles walked to the door and opened it. "Come in, Raven."
Raven stood up and entered. She was dressed now, and very strangely. She wore a black turtleneck, a very long blue skirt, a blue jacket, black tights, and blue boots. It seemed as if someone had wanted to hide every part of her body but her face.
"Do you need a ride, Sparrow?" he asked kindly, trying to ignore her unnerving stare. She had the biggest, saddest, fiercest eyes he had ever seen. And what an unusual color!
She shook her head, turning her gaze to the heavy ceramic mug on his desk. It was beginning to wobble.
"Are you sure, Peacock? We can call a cab if you need one."
The slip was brought, and he signed it.
"I'm sure Raven will be all right." Ms. Charles pointedly accented the Raven. "The fresh air will do her some good." She turned to Raven. "You don't have to go to gym for a week, all right? Just go to study hall instead."
She nodded sullenly.
Victor handed her the dismissal slip. "You can go now, Rachel."
"Raven," she hissed. The mug toppled to the carpet and shattered. Victor cursed, and Sarah dropped to pick it up.
"Now, what was that, Ribbon?"
The snow globe exploded, water spraying everywhere. The windows exploded as well, sending bits of glass flying across the floor. Raven turned and stormed out.
Her head was bowed, not in submission but in petulance, and she tried to think of nothing. Cramps came and went in great gripping waves, making her slow down and speed up like a car with carburetor trouble.
They all hate me. All of them. They never stop hating. Never stop laughing…
She stared at the sidewalk, at quartz glittering in the cement, ghostly rain-faded hopscotch grids, wads of gums stamped flat, candy wrappers, and pieces if tinfoil.
Imagine Caron Andrews all bloody, screaming for mercy.
She kicked a penny lodged in a crack.
Imagine bugs crawling all over Kitten.
She rolled a rock with her foot
Crash in Tara's head with a boulder.
She stepped over dog turd with a footprint in it.
"Savior Jesus meek and mild."
That was all right for Mother, but she didn't have to spend every day in a carnival of hyenas. And hadn't she said that there would be a Day of Judgment and an angel with a sword?
If only it would be today. If only Jesus could appear, not a lamb with a shepherd's crook but a terrible screaming Jesus with a sword of blood and righteousness.
If only she could be His sword.
Lula Andrews was watching a sappy romance which ended in a vicious betrayal, when there was a knock on the door.
Opened it so see a slim beautiful woman dressed in black, with full red lips and long strait hair. She was smiling, but her almond-shaped eyes were narrow.
"Oh, hello, Miss Roth."
"How are you, Mrs. Andrews?"
"And the children?"
There was an awkward silence. "Come in, Miss Roth."
"I hear Raven is in some of my daughters' classes?"
Her face tensed slightly, but she nodded.
"Well, maybe sometime she could visit."
"I'm here on the Lord's work, Mrs. Andrews. Spreading the gospel of Christ's salvation." A zealous light came into her eyes when she spoke of the Lord.
"Yes, of course."
"I think I have something that would interest you." She lifted a book. "The Teenager's Path through The Cross of Christ."
Lula forced a smile, but she had to say: "I don't think my kids would be very interested."
Angela Roth gave her a stern look. "The children are wandering through the wilderness of sin these days, Mrs. Andrews."
Lula bristled, automatically on the defensive. "My Stella is a good girl." She chose not to mention Caron.
"These are godless times, Mrs. Andrews."
"I'll drink to that!" Then she remembered who she was talking to.
There was a long, awkward silence until the phone rang. Relieved, Lula fairly ran to the phone and picked it up. "Oh, Myron!" There was a pause as her husband spoke. "Miss Roth is here." Another pause. "I'll get rid of her."
"I have something here, Mrs. Andrews, that I think you might profit from," began Angela, but Lula cut her off.
"Mrs. Andrews, I would like to donate ten." She paused. "Twenty dollars." She offered Angela two bills.
"I see," she replied, her face cold. As she walked out, she seemed to rethink. Spinning around, she raised a hand. "I pray that you find Jesus!"
Garfield Logan, a kid with green eyes and a bad attitude, was biking. He was humming, Scooby Doo, Where Are You? under his breath. When he saw Raven, he brightened and stuck out his tongue. "Hey, it's Satan's Daughter! Ole Creepy Crow!"
Stupid beastly brat. She wished he would fall and break his head.
Biking in front of her, he chanted, "Creepy Crow, Creepy Crow!"
She stared at him with smoking rage.
The bike fell over and landed on him. Raven walked on, the sound of his wails echoing behind her.