Carry (freewrite)

in freewrite •  2 months ago

I feel you. I still feel you, you're here with me even when you're not and I want you to come back. But you never come back because I was bad to you - I was evil, that's what they tell me here. They say I did a bad, bad thing, but I don't know if I did. What do you think, do you think I did a terrible thing?
To you? No, how could I? I just wanted you to know how much I loved you. I would've done anything for you, Carrie. Hell, I'd still do anything for you. If only you came back to me. Please, please come back. Hurry, please, 'cause if they find me back here, there won't be no next time. I just know it. They warned me about it last time I was here. They said that if I ever tried to get out again while they weren't looking, they'd do that nasty thing to me and I don't want them to do it.
Or rather, I don't care if they turn my brain to mush, as long as I can see you one more time.

I know you don't want to come, I get that. Hey, if what they say is true, I wouldn't want to be around myself either. But I didn't, you and I both know I didn't do it and I really need you to come to me, because Mom won't listen to me when I tell her. She only cries and cries when I tell her you're out here, in the backyard. And she looks at me like I done some horrible thing. But I never did, Carrie, and you know it. I only wanted you to know how much I loved you. I wanted you to feel loved and appreciated, 'cause no one ever loved you in your whole life but me.
Not Mom, not Terry, not anybody. Only me.
I knew I'd love you forever from the second you were born, when I saw that tiny head in Mom's arms and I saw her cold, glassy eyes staring through you, rather than at you. The way she used to stare at me before I got old enough to avoid her gaze. Terry was no help, we both know that. It wasn't that he was a drunk like everyone thought, I just think his mind was...elsewhere.
Not how they say about me here, that my mind isn't here. No. I think his mind was caught up on something from the way back and I don't think he ever really did realize he'd had kids. I don't think he even realized you were dead. I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you and I know I promised never to say that again, but you must come to me and I don't know how else to bring you back.
If only I could talk to you again, to tell you I didn't mean to hurt you. You know I didn't, you know I never would lay a hand on you. My one, my only, please. Please, please, please. Don't do this. Don't let them take you away from me.
I never will. Even if they do that nasty thing to me where I can't think straight no more, I'll still remember you. You will always be in my head, even if I'm dead. Or worse. Just please tell me I'm in yours. Just tell me you're not angry with me, sis. I could never bear it if you thought I'd do that.
'CARRIE!' the man bellows and the orderlies rush out and pull him back inside. They will not do what he thinks they'll do. They never even threatened him with that, but he knows about it from an old newspaper, from when they still used to turn people's brain into mush. They don't do that now. They just sedate this sad, tormented man and put him to sleep.
And somewhere, in a frost white bed, Carrie lies awake in the dead of night, crying for her lost brother, who was put away. It was never his fault, the accident, he'd rather die than hurt her. And the worst part was she tried to tell them that, when she woke up, she tried to tell them it wasn't his fault, but they refused to listen to her. A poor, upset child.
Her brother was already in the loony bin bt then and her mother said it was better that way, that he'd gone mad when he'd crashed that car.
But Carrie doesn't think it was quite like that. And on nights like this, she lies awake and wonders if her brother even knows she survived that crash.
In the light of day, it terrifies her and she refuses to think, but at night, her thoughts catch up with her. And the possibility that her brother is out there, locked away, thinking he killed her. Times like these, Carrie wants to scream. She wants to run into her parents' bedroom and strangle them for letting him think that. Even for a second. Her brother, who'd lose himself if he thought he'd hurt her.
*Don't you worry, brother, I'm coming for you. One day soon, they won't be able to stop me anymore and then I'll come out and get you out of there.'

Under the cover of night, she plots their escape.

Today's prompt was 'feeling the love', which as could be expected, brought up precisely this kind of story. Anyway, check out @mariannewest's blog, I'm sure others wrote happier stuff.

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Thank you for reading,


Photo taken by me.

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Thank you so much for helping the freewrite community!

You got a 35.97% upvote from @ocdb courtesy of @honeydue!

Hey freewriter!


Tag! You're covered in Mashed Potatoes. You have to use all the prompts (see the link) in a continuation of the story (follow links in the links) and then pass it on with another prompt you make up...