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She was alone with Momma's angry God.
Yeah the mom is CRAZY
Flex. She was lifting the hairbrush. It was heavy. It was like lifting a barbell with very weak arms. Oh. Grunt.
Ahhh not her using her powers
The hairbrush slid to the edge of the bureau, slid out past the point where gravity should have toppled it, and then dangled, as if on an invisible string.
In the wake of two hundred deaths and the destruction of an entire town, it is so easy to forget one thing: We were kids. We were kids. We were kids trying to do our best. . .
The boys would tease Carrie for a little while and then forget, but the girls . . . it went on and on and on and I can't even remember where it started any more.
Poor girl
People don't get better, they just get smarter.
Yep!
“It makes me have pimples, Momma.” “Your pimples are the Lord's way of chastising you. Now eat your pie.”
Yeah I HATE her mom
She did not know if her gift had come from the lord of light or of darkness, and now, finally finding that she did not care which, she was overcome with an almost indescribable relief, as if a huge weight, long carried, had slipped from her shoulders.
“Tommy and Carrie win. By one vote.”
They were drenched. Carrie got it the worst. She looked exactly like she had been dipped in a bucket
Suddenly, as if a videotape machine had been turned on in her mind, she saw Miss Desjardin running toward her, and saw her thrown out of her way like a rag doll as she used her mind on her, without even consciously thinking of it. She rolled over on her back, eyes staring wildly at the stars from her painted face. She was forgetting (!! THE POWER!!) It was time to teach them a lesson.
