carrie--white
-- "Hey, uh, are you okay? Sorry about him, he's not always like that."
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carrie--white
-- "Hey, uh, are you okay? Sorry about him, he's not always like that."
Johnny stared at the girl, hands dropping down into his lap in place of a proper reaction. " How'd ya do that? "
"How did you escape?"
She ran—at least, that’s what she had told the papers, the doctors, the police, whoever would listen. Still, it had done very little to stir the sympathies of her employer or his client. Had they had it their way, she’s sure she would have died in that bathroom, alone and away from anything that mattered. For nothing but a second shot at redemption—nothing that mattered out here, in the real world.
She had lost her job—a mere slap on the wrist, some might say—and for all her earnestness, she lost Sam. And to some degree, she even lost Lila, what with the way she looks at her now (or doesn’t, which is what hurts the most).
Escape. The very word is jibberish to her, absolute nonsense. Every moment of silence she’s allowed, every dream she’s had, she’s still back there, in that shower.
"You never escape. Not really."
He didn't know Ponyboy tagged around with such cute broads and at this thought his ears go red.
carrie--white replied to your post:starter call !!!
lolololol i’ll take a short one y not
ur my fave
Firestarter ; Carrie && Johnny
carrie--white
The two teenagers had been walking for an impressive two hours on the tri-state thruway, arms outstretched in search of a ride. They were suspicious enough trekking it on the shoulder of one of the largest highways in America without the grimy clothes that clung to their skin, or the slightly too-long haircut that the boy sported. They were fugitives, though, and if they stopped they risked the chance of being caught by the green car that had been on their heels the past year and a half. Since that stupid experiment the high schoolers had signed up for last summer the Shop – an affectionate name for a branch of government exclusively for the supernatural – had been on them almost constantly.
Early in May last year Johnny had come across a flyer advertising a grand three hundred dollars for anyone willing to be a test subject for ‘Psychological Experiment”. It was run at the nearby University of Pennsylvania, an Ivy League school, definitely credible. So, the boy hopped the nearest bus to Philly, and long story short was injected with a new hallucinogenic drug called ‘Lot 6’. And all the while this crazy trip was playing out he could swear the blonde next to him was talking to him yet never opening her mouth. Golly, she was pretty.
After coming to Johnny noticed only seven out of the fifteen who went in with them were still laying still in their cots – including the blonde. He felt his ears grow hot at the sight of her, and soon after they had been dismissed he began to pal around with her. Her name was Carrie, he learned, and was the same age as he, seventeen. But then it all changed.
It happened one day when the two were heading home from lunch, Johnny driving and Carrie in the passenger seat, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. It had been a few weeks since the experiment, nothing out of the ordinary except for some infrequent headaches. The red Cherokee ran the stoplight to the right of them, going at least seventy. An incident the small Honda, and the passengers, surely would not survive. Johnny wouldn’t have noticed except the small jolt of energy that swept through the car. And that’s when he turned his head to see the Cherokee being pushed back two or three feet.
In a frenzy, Johnny swung the door open, jogging over to the passenger’s side of the other vehicle to make sure the driver was okay. He was fine, he said, “just a little bit shook up.”As was every party involved, even Carrie, who had emerged from the car just seconds after he. But even before anybody had a chance to call the authorities a black Nissan rolled up on the scene, three men stepping out, all clad in official looking wear and black sunglasses. As they approached, the girl tugged on Johnny’s hand, murmuring something about having to get out of there ‘before they haul us away.’
He didn’t need much convincing and in the following weeks the two almost stayed exclusively at Johnny’s house. Carrie had explained that day that she had seen the car coming and, almost out of nowhere, felt herself push it away from them. It wasn’t a physical push, she said, a very weird tingling sensation at the front of her head was all it was. They spent time exercising this new found power, and after a few days time the girl found she had a pretty good grip on these abilities.
The pair chalked it up to the experiments they had undergone, but that raised the question why hadn’t Johnny gotten these telekinetic powers? They tried and tried but the only thing that came of the trials was a growing sense of frustration. Nothing seemed to happen, and there was no tingling in his head or a foreign feeling of energy running through him.
But one day it just got too frustrating for the boy. He felt red hot pin pricks behind his eyes, a stifling heat filled the room, and the lampshade burst into flames. He did it! Johnny Cade was not some square who’s body didn’t take to whatever they had injected them with back at the school – he could start fires! And with this information, the two ran. They began wreaking havoc on passersby’s, setting their shoes on fire or pushing them over from the small window of the attic. Meaning no harm, of course, until the men in the suits showed up again.
They showed up on a Tuesday, knocking on the door of the Cade home. His poor, innocent mother answered the door instead of Johnny, though, and was killed on spot. They had killed his father, too, who was sitting in the living room at the time, before making their way upstairs to where the teenagers were staying.
It startled the two, who were interlocked in a staring competition, smiles instantaneously dropping from their faces when two men burst into the room. They made an attempt to disarm the children, towels to their noses, conscious fading quite quickly until their arms went up in flames. And the pair escaped.
Now, here they were, too tired to converse, and far beyond the point of fatigue. Johnny had Carrie on his back, trudging along the side of the road before noticing the sign for ‘Medford, two miles ahead.’. They had stolen at least five hundred dollars from that gas station; they could afford a hotel room. And so the boy with the dark eyes and wild hair continued into the night.
The way the girl was dressed put the greaser on edge. He swallowed, averting his gaze to the cat that skittered across the street a few yards in front of him. He touched his scar with the calloused pad of his index finger, a reminder of his last encounter with a Soc. Johnny hoped she hadn't taken notice of his tiny frame stalking through the shadows, avoiding streetlights.
✉ ☎
Send “✉” for a text that wasn’t sent.
[Meme: Closed]
[SMS >> Carrie]: do u think ud ever do that freaky mind stuff 2 me if i made u mad/?[Cancel send? Y/N]
Send “☎” for a rushed text.
[Meme: Closed]
[SMS >> Carrie]: really fuced up my hand[SMS >> Carrie]: bledin a lot