carriietta-blog

[carriietta-blog]

CARRIE HAS MOVED OVER HERE - STARRYMUSED.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Yeah, well. We’re both thankful, huh?” He understood why she wanted to thank him, but didn’t want to dwell on her bullying. Not right now. Right now was fun stuff! “Anyway! You’re cool. I like hanging out with you.” He grinned. “Wanna help me write more music? I’m kinda thinking doing a whole like, unofficial album like this. The same themes, y’know?”

“Yeah, okay.” She wasn’t sure how much she could really help, but Mal had liked the quotes she had shared. Maybe she could help with the lyrics of some of his other songs. “The same themes? Is everything going to be supernatural? Like, a different supernatural being for each song?”

That would be kinda cool.

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theoriesoflove‌:

And he was happy to do so! Malak put his arms around Carrie and gave her a gentle, brief squeeze. He said, “Thank you, Carrie. Seriously. It’s been so much fun getting to know you and I’m glad you didn’t like, immediately flee from some weird guitar playing kid.”

“I thought about it.” She admits. “But I’m glad, too.” Because then they wouldn’t have struck up this friendship. It could be called that now, right? “I guess I took a chance and it paid off.” But this was the first time it ever had. Usually, it ended with her as the victim and lots of heartache.

“I should be the one thanking you, Mal...”

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mortiiicia‌:

SMIRK REMAINED PROMINENT UPON FEATURES  even after Carrie’s initial retort regarding a notion of corruption. A brow arched, her fingers loosening their position within an interlaced grip. ❝ Corruption doesn’t always have to be in a negative connotation. Sometimes, it is a necessity. ❞ Though that too, could be interpreted as… vague. ❝ It is as you make it. Much like magick itself. ❞ Ah — now there, was an interesting point. ❝ Black magick is a form depending on how it’s being used between positive and negative energies. If you use your power for good, then it is not black magick. Only when you are wishing harm on another, is it considered as such. ❞ An interesting correlation comes to mind and again, does a single brow come to arch as she tilts her head to the side with curious intent. Not that Morticia herself was against the use of black magick by any means whenever necessary; there was, indeed, a time and place for it. Though not all agreed with that. To each their own — so mote it be. ❝ How have you used it thus far? ❞ Perhaps a bit too much of a loaded question, but one that needed to be asked in order to properly diagnose how this power was taking hold. With fingers now tightly laced together, she leans forward, almost in a way that might display a sense of secrecy on what she’s about to say. ❝ Magic… in all forms, is already present in each and every being. It is up to the individual whether or not they use it. You weren’t chosen. You chose, on some level, to tap into it. But it’s always been there. However, it is different for each of us. ❞ She leans back then, taking a brief opportunity to pour herself another cup of tea and take a sip. That subtle hit of cyanide soothing down the length of her throat as she closes her eyes, crossing one leg over the other. ❝ How you control it is really up to you, dear. I can’t necessarily tell you, but I can… help you figure it out. The more you use it, the more control you will have over it. Practice makes perfect, as they say. Whoever they are. Why don’t you give it a try now? You can test it here, one step at a time. ❞

Oh, she hadn’t thought about it in that way. Depending on the context and how someone perceived their own actions, it could be either good or bad. Her powers had only been used to harm people who harmed her first and even then it was accidental. A skateboard sliding from out of a teenager’s foot after he harassed her or a kid whose bike flipped over after he shouted abuse in passing. That was all self-defense.

“It just happens. More when I’m feeling emotional or I’m trying to hold things in.” Like tears, but she didn’t want to admit that to Mrs. Addams. “Something happened in my old school that might have started it all.” Again, not something she felt like explaining in detail, but Carrie felt the need to speak about some of this with the woman. It was like she was being lured in and persuaded to spill things about herself that nobody else knew. Was this the matriarch’s own magic at work?

“It happens when people make fun of me. When they laugh at me.” She didn’t like it when people laughed at her. The humiliation she had felt when she thought she was bleeding to death and the other girls pelted her with sanitary products had been one of the worst experiences of her the young girl’s life.

When she was given the go-ahead to try it out right there in front of Mrs. Addams, her stomach flips. “I don’t know if I can. It’s never a conscious decision.” She couldn’t just perform! “I mean, I practice when I’m alone in my room. The other night I made some books float.” Which probably wasn’t all that impressive to someone who clearly knew so much about the subject.

“I have to be careful so my Mama doesn’t hear. I would be punished if she found out.”

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Yeah!?” He threw his arms up a little in excitement, grin huge. “I’m so happy! And – hey, it’s just as much your song as it is mine! I’m so glad you like it!”

He paused. Then asked hesitantly, “Is it okay if I hug you, Carrie? I feel like that’s an appropriate way to celebrate. But if you’re not that’s okay!”

A hug? Her eyes widen a little. The fact that he even wanted to was strange to her! Weighing her options, she decides that she just can’t say no. As he said, this was how normal people behaved and she so desperately wanted to be normal.

“Yeah, okay.” Her eyes briefly meet with Mal’s before she leans closer a bit, hands moving from her lap so that she can properly return the hug.

...Once he initiates it.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“I can jam out to hymns! Or try to,” Mal assured her, shrugging his shoulders easily. “Anyway, uh. Yeah. I haven’t thought of a title yet, but – “ He cleared his throat and strummed the strings of his guiar, leaning back a bit. “Here it goes.”

The song only lasted just over two minutes, with most of its lines made up by the ones Carrie had provided. Or at least inspired by them. Mal enjoyed telling stories with his music. And so, this one was that of a female ghost longing to be seen by others. (It may or may not have been inspired by Carrie herself. (Well, no. It was.))

As he sang the final note, Mal drew himself out of the trance he often entered upon performing. Smiling and a bit nervous, he asked, “W-What do you think?”

In a similar way that Mal allows himself to be lost in the music, Carrie does the same. It wasn’t often that she heard anyone sing to her let alone lyrics that were inspired by her favorite books. Allowing the melody to wash over her, she closes her eyes and hangs on every single word.

The song seems to end too soon, but she put that down to her imagination. All good things must come to an end, after all. Lips spread in a gentle smile, eyes fluttering open to gaze at the carpet before lifting to meet his. What did she think?

“It was beautiful, Mal.” She answers truthfully. “Hauntingly beautiful.” The story of the ghost girl who longed to be seen by those in the living world. It made her feel all sorts of emotions. Sadness, hope, and yearning of her own. The story reminded Carrie of her own.

“It hits close to home. In a way.” Was it ridiculous to relate to a fictional character in a song? She might have once thought so, but not anymore. Understanding and connecting to songs was what music was all about.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Sure, that’s fine!” Completely reasonable to Mal. “Although sometime you’ll have to stay for dinner if you can! Mom and Dad won’t be home before then, but I know they already want to meet you, heh.”

… Wait, was that weird?

“N-Not for a weird reason or anything! Just, you know. They like to meet all my friends,” he added sheepishly, and waved for her to follow him. “Uh, anyway. I moved my keyboard and music stuff into my room for now. It’s too warm in the garage to practice right now.”

He led her down the hallway a few steps before opening up his door. Inside was another basic room – something out of an IKEA display, almost! But with a lot more character: music posters and photos of his family covered the walls, as well as a map of the US with various routes mapped out on it. Two large jars full of change and the occasional dollar were placed upon a tall bookshelf labeled TOUR FUND, and on the shelves themselves sat a huge variety of books about music theory, poetry, short stories, and more!

Then of course, the expected boy basics: a playstation 3 and a stack of games, multiple hoodies cast on different surfaces, some stray magazines, scribbled notes scattered around his desk…

“Don’t feel obligated to play anything, by the way,” he added, although he gestured to the electric keyboard that was standing by his bed. He crossed the room and picked up his guitar, sitting on the bed’s edge himself – and invited her to sit next to him. “You ready for your badass dark poetry song?”

Cause he was SO excited to show her!

Wait, his parents weren’t here? That was almost enough to stop her legs in their tracks. It wasn’t the fact that he and his brother were alone in the house because Mal was seventeen and could be left alone just like she could be. But he was allowed to have a girl over without any adult supervision?

The nerves over meeting the rest of his family altered into nerves relating to being alone in a bedroom with a boy. It was something she never thought she would do behind her mother’s back. With some hesitance, she follows while her mind tried to rationalize her own actions. It would be fine. All those stories she had overheard the other girls sharing wouldn’t relate to this scenario. The girls who accompanied boys to their bedrooms wanted to for less than innocent reasons. This wasn’t the case for her, so it would be okay. Anyway, she wasn’t pretty like those girls and even if Mal thought that way, which he most certainly didn’t, she wouldn’t appeal to him. 

That made her feel a little better about it even if such thoughts had strengthened her own insecurities. Turning around on the spot once they were in his room, Carrie takes in everything she could see. It looked normal? Completely different from what she was expecting. It wasn’t as untidy as she predicted apart from the desk and even that could be seen as “organized mess”.

“I don’t mind, but I only really play hymns.” She could read sheet music, but never dared to purchase song books that appealed to her. Mama would burn it in the fire the first chance she got. Settling beside Mal — with a short distance between them — hands clasp in her lap while she awaits his performance.

“Yes, I’ve been excited to hear.” She admits with a bashful smile.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Hey!” Attention on her now, he smiled and approached the door. Jamal took this as his cue to exit, walking backwards out of the living room. “Careful! Mal doesn’t wash his hands!” A thumbs up aimed at his brother, goofy grin similar to his own.

“Hey! Yes I do!” Mal frowned after him, then back at Carrie, insistent and laughing weakly – but still insisting, “I do. Really. Jamal’s just got this weird potty humor thing going nowadays. I think it’s ‘cause he’s been reading those Captain Underpants books.”

Stepping aside, he waved her in.

“Come on in. Oh, uh, remove your shoes please? You can put them on the rack there,” he nodded to the neat line of various shoes on a small metal rack just by the door. “I’m glad you could make it. Do you have to head home at a specific time?” The last thing he wanted was for Carrie to be late and get in trouble or have some sort of negative experience!

"Before it gets too late. So, like, before six?” Was that even considered late for a Saturday? God, she was so lame. Straightening back up after storing her shoes where he said, she shrugs a little. “Mama doesn’t like it when I’m late for dinner.” And she would have to stop by the shops to make it seem like she had been on her own the entire day instead of spending it with a boy.

Taking a moment to peek at the decor of the hall, she presses her fingers together in front of her dress. She didn’t really know how to act when in someone else’s home! So, she quietly awaits Mal to lead the way or instruct her somehow.

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outofthelight‌:

It almost made him sad to see her try and reign in the celebrating. He knew what that feeling was. She should have to feel that way, she should just be able to enjoy having a good time and winning a silly carnival game. That’s what this was supposed to be for, right?

“Hey, look at that, not, not too shabby,” he agreed. He smiled, excited by her excitement. And it was true, the stash of tickets was starting to add up pretty nicely so far from the couple of games they’d played. “Do you have your eye on anything particular?” Might be good know what they were saving up for.

That…was probably the highest kind of complement he’d ever been given in his life. He was a little floored by it before smiling back. “I’m glad you came. It’s…I don’t get to do stuff like this a lot, so. It’s um it’s really nice for me too. Getting to feel normal for once.”

“Not really.” Some of the prizes seemed a little tacky, but that was okay! They still looked pretty interesting and unlike anything she owned. “We can try and get something that both of us like.” Evan definitely deserved something good!

“How come you don’t do this a lot?” She knew he could get anxious and uncertain about things, but he was likable and approachable. “Compared to me, I would have thought you were normal.” And she didn’t intend that to come across in a bad way. Carrie would give anything to feel normal. She pulls her bag strap up her shoulder and meets his eye, which was something she usually found difficult.

“I guess we have a lot more in common than I thought...”

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celenehart‌:

Wouldn’t believe her? What bullshit was that? But Celene got that now wasn’t the time.

“–This way.” Why was the tiny girl leading them? She didn’t know these streets! Celene grabbed her hand and pulled her into an alley. Riskier, yeah, but quicker. “My place isn’t far.”

Down an alley, up another, and squeezing through a cramped space between buildings – they came out near a park, which they also hurried through. There were some people there. Mostly druggies and homeless, but they knew from past experiences to leave the angry redhead lady alone.

Down another block, then a sharp left – and they were home free. Sort of.

Celene let go of Carrie’s hand to fish through her purse for her housekeys as she gestured for her to follow her up the steps.

“You can crash here tonight,” she explained, pulling the door open. Hers was the first apartment on the left. She unlocked that, too, and ushered Carrie inside. Once her apartment door was firmly locked, she let out an exasperated sigh and slumped against it. 

“Men are the fucking worst.” It really was too bad she liked dick so much.

Celene’s apartment was simple. A couch, a small TV, a kitchenette and doors (currently closed) leading to the bedroom and bathroom. The only thing particularly unique was the clothes strewn about everywhere (mostly underthings and shoes) and empty alcohol bottles (mostly wine). 

Slowly, Celene looked up at Carrie.

“Yeah, I know it’s a pig sty. Don’t judge me. Just sit down and calm down. And then you are going to tell me what happened back there. Believable or not.”

After being dragged all the way to Celene’s apartment, Carrie stands awkwardly by the door while the woman mumbled about the mess that awaited them. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for the invitation and would take that over that sleazy motel, but she hadn’t prepared for this.

Especially when Celene wanted to know the truth behind what happened back there...

Stepping over some discarded bottles of wine (or was that vodka?), Carrie perches on the couch and tries not to rudely stare at anything. “I don’t know how to begin, honestly.” How could she describe any of this without sounding insane? If Celene had heard the news of what happened back in Chamberlain and pieced all the information together, she would be in a position to turn her over to the police. From what she had last heard, the local law enforcement had tried their best to silence the media. Unfortunately, news spread fast when the internet existed.

“It’s going to sound completely crazy, but...” She watches the redhead for a moment before sighing. This was a risk and she knew it, but maybe it would be worth it. She had been running for so long with nobody to talk to...

She was tired of it.

“I have telekinetic powers.” She says with a straight face, looking directly at Celene. It was best to just let that sink in before she dived into what those powers involved.

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theoriesoflove‌:

There was some shouting from within. A voice that was muffled, but sounded like Mal’s. Followed by a younger child’s voice that was closer – and then the door was opening, revealing a boy no older than nine with dark skin, short black hair, and big hazel eyes. Oh, and he was missing one of his big front teeth.

“Hi! You’re Carrie, right?” He held the door open and offered out a hand to shake, polite but also somehow mischievous. “I’m Jamal! Mal’s in the bathroom. Probably poo–”

“Jamal! I said I got it!” Mal practically skidded into the room, face flushed. “And I was not in the bathroom! Stop telling my friends that, it’s weird!”

Oh! His little brother! Nodding, Carrie accepts the hand. Very formal for a little kid, but cute at the same time. “Hello, yes, I’m here to—” Before she can say that she was here to see Malak, he appears at the doorway and the two brothers bicker over the tease. She giggles quietly, wondering if this was how most siblings acted with one another. When Mal refers to her as a friend, she very nearly blushes.

“Hi.” She greets the older brother, feeling a bit more at ease now. If Jamal knew how to break the ice this easily, then maybe the rest of the family would be the same.

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theoriesoflove‌:

Oh boy. Oh boy, oh man, oh jeez.

Carrie White was cute and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Not that she knew that, of course. She probably didn’t even intend to get him that way! But Mal grinned so hard his face hurt at her offer to play for him – only him! – and he was already planning on dedicated the rest of the afternoon to cleaning up the garage in anticipation of her visit.

Hell yeah!

“See if you can come over this weekend?” he said as the period ended. “Once you get permission, I’ll let my folks know. They’re pretty chill with guests.”

And his Ma was going to be thrilled to hear he was inviting a girl over, but Carrie didn’t need to know that. No need to make her nervous! He just kind of wanted to keep her smiling. Like, forever. Was that weird? Probably. “Catch you later, Carebear!”

Malak’s house was…average. Normal? Normal. Just a nice egghsell-colored house with faded brown tiles. One story. Two cars in the driveway. Big open windows with the curtains drawn back to reveal a modest interior. A set of neatly-trimmed shrubs in the lawn…

It was something new to Carrie White.

She didn’t have her mother’s permission to be there, but Carrie knew she could spin a tale about where she had been once she returned. A huge part of her felt really guilty because she knew she wasn’t supposed to lie — it was one of the biggest sins — but she was only doing it because her mother would never allow this! How was she supposed to make friends if she was forced to abide by ever strict rule that was set out for her?

One harmless lie wouldn’t hurt...

She had explained to Mal that she would find his address and that he didn’t need to meet her anywhere. It was safer that way instead of risking being caught out in public together. Despite Mama being at work until late afternoon, Carrie didn’t want to somehow run into her if she decided to step out to run errands.

Arriving at the home, she double checks that it was the correct one. It was daunting to be stood outside it and the nerves that had been creeping up were now threatening to overwhelm her. She fixes her dress and blouse before combing fingers through wavy locks. This was a big moment and she didn’t want to mess it up.

Taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would calm her racing heart, she reaches for the doorbell and steps back to await whoever would greet her.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Yah. But I don’t doubt you have one,” he retorted, still visibly thrilled. “Anyway! Yes, we should totally have a jam session one day. I’ve got a keyboard in the garage I play with sometimes. You can do stuff on that!”

Mal knew he had a tendency to get a little manic when it came to his passions. He had to stop assuming things!

“ I mean, if you wanna. Or you can just come over. Whatever works!”

“Maybe I will, but only for you.” The comment wasn’t meant to be flirtatious in any form — Carrie was utterly clueless about flirting — and yet it could easily be perceived as that. She had only meant that she didn’t want to perform in front of an audience of family members!

Their free period was fast approaching its end and she felt a little saddened by the thought. It felt too soon to say goodbye and, unfortunately, Mal wasn’t in any of her other classes. A few minutes later, the bell rings and she bites back a sigh.

It was time to get back to reality.

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theoriesoflove‌:

“How long have you been playing?!” She was clearly joking, but Mal’s eyes had lit up. A band would be a bit too much, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t work on something together! “You’re blowing my mind, Carebear. What other secret talents are you hiding from the rest of the world?”

Mal was grinning ear to ear. “Lemme guess. You’re a great cook? You can ride unicycle? Lift cars with your mind?”

“Since I was a little girl. Mama had me learn.” She kinda hated the process because of how strict her mother had been. If she missed out on a single practice session, her knuckles would be hit with a metal ruler. Still, from the look on Mal’s face, he was clearly enthralled by this new piece of information.

His words make her blush even if he was just teasing. A unicycle? She could barely even ride a bike with two wheels! At the mention of lifting cars, she laughs. “That would take a really powerful mind.” Eyes shift a bit, glancing in the general direction of the book that had fallen earlier. 

If only Mal knew...

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theoriesoflove‌:

“Yeah?!” Oh, thank god, he didn’t scare her away! Awesome. “All right! And yeah, I do! Most of my weekends are spent in there. Or with my little bro. – Did I tell you I have one? His name’s Jamal. He’s ten.”

… Ooh, wait.

“Also, you’ll probably notice it right away – I’m adopted. So is Jamal. So we don’t look like each other or our parents.” He laughed, “Couple of my other friends thought they had the wrong house when they first came over!”

He was so ready to finish this song now just so he had a reason to invite her over! Carrie was cool.

“Oh!” Oh? That’s all she could think to say? Sitting forward a bit in her chair, she rests her elbows on the table and fixes Malak with an interested stare. No, don’t stare! That was creepy! “That’s—” Her mother’s voice echoes in her head: Adoption is a sin, Carrie. People who practice it only do it to selfishly instill their flawed beliefs into the minds of children.

“That’s really admirable.” Mama wasn’t always right because, according to her, having biological children was a sin, too. Everything was a sin in Margaret White’s eyes and it was hard to keep up with what was good and bad. It didn’t help that she contradicted herself all the time.

“I don’t have any siblings. I kinda wish I did.” So that she had someone to talk to and who would understand the troubles she went through back at home. Nobody at school knew the true extent of the issues she experienced. Not that they would care either way.

“It’s a surprise my mother even had me.” Ah. This was getting way too personal. She reigns it back in and changes the subject. “Um, I know how to play the piano. Maybe we’ll form a band one day.” She jokes.

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“Look what you turned me into.”

Carrie (2013)

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thislovelylady‌:

“Hm. Actually… yeah. If you’re all right with it, I’d suggest you dye your hair. Doesn’t matter what color, so long as it’s not neon. I went blonde for awhile after I first escaped. Not my favorite look, but you do what you have to do. I can cut your hair, too, if that’s all right. Won’t be a professional cut, but since you’ve been on the run, people expect your hair to be long.”

She was relieved Carrie was earnest about changing her appearance. She wouldn’t have to waste time convincing her. “We can do it in the next place we stay overnight.”

“I could do that.” She speaks after a moment. It made sense. There was no need for Lenora to advise her against neon colors; that wasn’t Carrie’s thing anyway. “Could you help me with it? I wouldn’t know the first thing about it.” 

Part of her was a little excited about the change. Her mother would have never allowed her to do something like that. A smile stretches her mouth, her mind thinking through all the possibilities. Brown? Black? Red?

The time comes within the next few days and the nerves begin to settle in. She had chosen brown, figuring it would probably be the one that would suit best. Watching Lenora prepare, she takes a deep breath.

“I hope it’ll look okay...”