𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑹𝑨

𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬

June 25th, 2013
9:55 PM

Today was a day unlike any other. It was a day that left me feeling uneasy, unsure of what to make of it all. It all started four days ago when I heard the news about my hometown in Maine. The place where I grew up was now a fiery inferno, and most of the teenagers had died under mysterious circumstances. As I write this, 12 students have been confirmed dead, and 30 others are still missing. And at the center of it all was one girl, Carrie White.

I knew I had to go back to Chamberlain, my hometown, to testify at the White Commission. I requested some time off from work, and my boss, Dr. Drake, granted me a week off. I took a plane to Maine and then a cab to Chamberlain. The driver asked me why I wanted to go there, and I simply replied, "It's a long story."

Once I arrived, I got a hotel room and was struck by how quiet the town had become. Chamberlain was always a quiet town, but this was different. It was slowly becoming a ghost town, with people moving out and funerals happening all around.

I went to the courthouse for the White Commission and sat in the witness area. That's when I saw her, a young girl named Susan D. Snell. She was beautiful, tall, blonde, with blue eyes and flawless skin. She looked like a Victoria's Secret model, but her face was stern and tired. She had been deeply affected by all that had happened.

When she took to the stand, she spoke about Carrie and the power she had. She said that Carrie was like any of us, with hopes and fears, but that we had pushed her too far. "You can only push someone so far before they break," she said.

That took me back to 1998 when I first met Carrie. I was sunbathing in my backyard when I saw her standing by her picket fence, staring at me. She was a pretty girl, with mousy blonde hair tied in a loose braid. She pointed at my chest and said, "You have dirty pillows." I was taken aback, but I told her they were my breasts. She said that only bad girls had dirty pillows, and I asked if her mom had breasts. Margaret, her mother, came out and called me a slut. Then hailstones fell upon their house, and we all ran back inside.

That day was weird enough, but today was even weirder. As I was leaving the courthouse, I saw a figure limping along the moist grass. It was a girl in a light blue nightgown with dirty blonde hair covering her face. She fell on the grass, and I ran to her. I asked for her name, and she said it was Carrie White.

I couldn't believe it. Everyone had said she was dead, but here she was, standing before me. I gave her my jacket and took her to the hotel. I hired a car service to take us to San Francisco, and I left with Carrie beside me.

I don't know how she's alive, but I know I need to be vigilant with her. I don't know what else she's capable of. Today was a weird day, but I have a feeling that tomorrow will be even weirder.