The Red Maiden, Part Three
- The Red Maiden, Part One
- The Red Maiden, Part Two
- The Red Maiden, Part Three
- The Red Maiden, Part Four
- The Red Maiden, Part Five
- The Red Maiden, Part Six
- The Red Maiden, Part Seven
- The Red Maiden, Part Eight
- The Red Maiden, Part Nine
- The Red Maiden, Part Ten
- The Red Maiden, Part Eleven
- The Red Maiden, Part Twelve
- The Red Maiden, Part Thirteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Fourteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Fifteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Sixteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Seventeen
- The Red Maiden, Part Eighteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Nineteen
- The Red Maiden, Part Twenty
- The Red Maiden, Part Twenty-One
- The Red Maiden, Part Twenty-Two
Trigger Warnings: Bullying, War, Trauma/PTSD, Emotional/Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Violent Content, Depression. Reader discretion is advised
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, as none of the content is my original work. The characters are created by Stephen King and J.R.R Tolkien. The content belongs to MGM and Screen Gems, as the 2013 film remake of Carrie was directed by Kimberly Pierce and produced by Kevin Misher, and additional production is through MGM, Screen Gems, and Misher films as well as distributed by Sony Pictures releasing.
An Unexpected Meeting
A gentle breeze was felt on the face of Carrie White as she was propped against the trunk of a tree within the shade of leaves. She was barely conscious, yet alive as she could hear birds chirping every few minutes. She could feel the dirt and grass beneath her, as she gained a better sense of awareness with the surroundings guessing she was in some sort of forest. If Carrie did not know any better, she would have thought she was in heaven with her mother, she had always said they would be.
Then there was that power once more. A great sense of power that was compelling her to wake up and not stay there. The more she focused on that power, even in her barely conscious state, the more she could hear an elderly man’s voice murmuring in some sort of language she could not recognize. Then she heard the man softly call out her name. It was then she barely opened her eyes, a blurred tall grey figure coming into her eyesight. “Are you God,” she moaned out in a soft tone, becoming more conscious as she blinked and slowly went to prop herself up.
“God? What is the lass going on about?” she heard another figure say among a few mutters, as Carrie then started to sense others nearby the blurred grey figure. She blinked her eyes a few times, stunned to hear another voice before adrenaline helped snap her to her senses, rising up as quickly as possible. Her eyesight became clear and focused as she started to notice eight shorter figures, standing a few feet back and circled behind the tall, grey-cloaked figure she guessed the power came from.
Among the many faces that were wide-eyed and unwilling to be near Carrie, the elderly man gave an understanding smile with a twinkle in his eyes as he merely said, “It’s alright, you do not need to fear us. You are quite safe here.” It had just occurred to Carrie that not only were there a few stray green leaves floating in midair around her, but she was still in her blue nightgown. The same nightgown she wore the night she killed her mom, a bit tattered from the struggle with no apparent wounds to be seen.
Under any normal circumstances, she would have marveled at the way her wounds were healed and how exactly that power did that when all her life she never questioned there would be other powers outside of telekinesis. Powers that would earn the name of wicked witchcraft and sorcery that her mother would easily recognize if she were here. But her mother was not. Carrie’s eyes became filled with sadness, a few tears leaving her eyes as those few floating leaves began to slowly fall. “Am I dead?” Carrie whispered as the eight others that were filled with fear and suspicion started to show pity.
The elderly man’s eyes started to show a bit of pity as well, his facial expression became somber. “I’m afraid not Carrie,” he said as he motioned with a slight tilt to the head to pull her aside from the group. At this point, Carrie’s interest was peaked hearing the man speak her name. She started to follow until it hit her: this man, whoever he is, was the one that had been watching her every move. The watchful presence matched the power she sensed, no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was elsewhere.
She then stopped following him, having some distance from the group, as she was now confused and bewildered. “Why did you bring me here?” she said as she watched him stop in his place, his back toward her, doing everything in all of her ability to not cry. The man then started to slowly turn to face her, his eyes full of compassion and understanding keeping the somber expression on his face. He stepped closer to Carrie and began to sit on a nearby tree stump.
“I know you have been dealt a terrible hand at life Carrietta White and had no control over what pain you had suffered along the way. Much of what has happened was never your intention, as well as the death of your mother,” the man began to say. Carrie knew from the look in his eyes he was genuinely apologetic for every torment she went through. That did not explain much further as to why she was here in this strange world, not being with her mother in spirit so she kept silent and let him continue.
The man gave a long pause of silence, truly at a loss for words how best to answer her question until he gave a small sigh. “What you are asking of me Carrie, I cannot answer myself. I may have been able to keep an eye on you and save your life. But perhaps this is an inner quest that you must seek your own answers and forgive yourself in the process,” the man said as he gave a light smile.
“This very quest you are about to embark on, Carrietta White, may be the medicine you need to change for the better and possibly save a life. I, Gandalf the Grey, will seek to help you if I can,” he added as he rose from the tree stump motioning to Carrie to again follow him to rejoin the eight members of the group. All of what the man known as Gandalf said ran through her mind repeatedly there was a lot she deserved to know. It continued as she was being introduced to the eight now calm and willing to approach her.
Once she was introduced to each member, it was beginning to get dark when she was handed a red bathrobe being the only change of clothes offered by one of the Dwarves in kindness. Despite the fact it was only a bathrobe to cover her torn nightgown, she was given some privacy as she put it on. It was nearly big enough to be mistaken for the dress she wore on prom night had it not been for the blue nightgown underneath. It was a type of clothing that would have her mother rolling in her grave, even if it was merely a modest bathrobe.
Once Carrie put it on, she had to force herself to leave the thoughts of her mother behind taking her more than five minutes to finally rejoin everyone. They followed Gandalf through the dark of the woods until they came to what appeared to be houses embedded in the rolling green hills. It was a sight that gave Carrie a sense of peace and serenity among the glowing lantern lights near the hill houses. She was completely in awe, struggling to manage to stay with the group.
They finally got to the hill house that was most recognizable as a glowing blue mark was seen on the green door. Once Gandalf rang the bell a sharp angry voice was heard clearly not happy with having visitors. Carrie kept silent wondering if being here was a good idea the door immediately being swung open by a short man with curly brown hair in a bathrobe and nightclothes. It resulted in the eight Dwarves collapsing and piling on each other in pained groans. The short man looked to see Gandalf peeking in and sighed with frustrated recognition, allowing Gandalf inside.
Carrie bit her lip in awkward silence as she too went inside much to the shock written all over the short man’s face. “Gandalf, who is this?” the man asked as Gandalf turned around and with a smile introducing them both as Carrie and Bilbo Baggins to each other. “Hello,” Carrie merely said with a small smile, still feeling awkward being here but not to the point of being impolite. Before she could say anything of how nice this home was, Bilbo’s attention was brought to his unexpected guests in an irate and unpleasant mood.
Carrie, not wanting to be caught in the middle of Bilbo’s rising impatience and temper, merely kept herself away from the traffic of Dwarves going back and forth along the house. She felt like a wallflower among the social mass of Dwarves that were already having fun among themselves. Carrie did not dare disrupt the merry gathering as she felt she already scared them enough. That is until one of the dwarves, Dori, had started to offer some tea in a small attempt of warming up to her after what he witnessed.
Not wanting to be rude and reject this peace offering, she gave a small smile and nodded as he poured some tea and handed her the cup. It was not much given how Carrie knew he was one of those that gave her a suspicious look when she showed her power as if she was not to be trusted. It was enough for Carrie right now considering she did not blame anyone for being terrified of her. It was enough to reinforce her to stay apart from them afraid to interact with everyone or look at them.
She stayed silent close by the kitchen, while she heard Bilbo vent to Gandalf why the Dwarves ruined his entire evening. It was enough for Carrie to feel as if she were disrupting his evening, as if she were also part of the problem. Carrie began to feel like an outsider, wondering if she really belonged here. She toyed with the thought of leaving here to God knew where else, when she saw one of the Dwarves ask Bilbo what to do with his plate.
A dwarf with long blond hair offered to take the plate, throwing it to another dwarf, while others proceeded to throw plates to each other as if it were a game of hot potato. The dwarves continued this game of throwing plates while a song began to break out that made Carrie soon forget about leaving. She barely contained the smile she on her face, giving a small chuckle seeing them having fun starting to hum to the infectious tune. It was a sight Miss Desjardin would have been proud of.
Her comfort zone got disrupted in a major halt, as one of the plates began to slip from their fingertips Carrie quickly used her telekinetic powers to stop it in midair with her hand lowered. The singing immediately ceased, all eyes became on her in awe and terror. Carrie began to feel sheepish as dead silence filled the room for what felt like minutes. A hard pounding on the door was then heard and got her saved by the bell, allowing her to slowly have the plate float to the kitchen table. Gandalf’s expression immediately became serious as he merely said, “he’s here.” The night would soon prove to be far from over, the start of Carrie’s road to redemption personified that would impact the two more than they would realize.
**If you or someone is experiencing a mental health crisis, has experienced severe depression, or has experienced a PTSD episode call the national suicide prevention lifeline (1-800-273-8255), text CONNECT or HOME to the crisis text line at 741741, or call 911**