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carrie's throat was dry. that was the first thing she noticed when she woke up. her throat felt like fucking sandpaper, and her mouth felt even worse. she felt as though she'd suck the devil's dick if it'd get rid of this feeling. the events from the day before flooded her memory. her father crying, her brain a mile a minute. she remembered him telling her to get in the car, that they'd go get food, and ending up here. she remembered being checked in, and all the events leading up to now. it made her head hurt.
she didn't want to open her eyes and confront the fact that this was real, that she really had what her father had. that she was unlovable, too. the thought made her feel sick, and if she had anything in her stomach she might have vomited. that wasn't a kind thought to have first thing in the morning. how would anyone ever deal with her now? how would she ever deal with herself? she unwillingly remembered the things her father had told her over the years.
it was my fault. i was... impossible to be around. i don't really blame her for leaving.
she remembered his voice as if he was here, saying it to her now. the defeat in his tone. like he really believed that, and the realization hit carrie that she did, too. she believed him. she wished that she didn't, that she could say her mother was a fucking dumbass who left her husband for no reason, but the truth was there. the days where her father wouldn't sleep, the hours he spent yelling about baseball games, the long runs he took when there was no other way to spend the energy built up inside of him. it was one of the reasons carrie didn't hate moving out. she wasn't being woken up at 3am by pacing and muttering and she didn't have to block out the sound of frustrated yells while she was trying to do her homework. and now she was fucking living it.
her head was still racing. she was still thinking about variables that didn't fucking exist, but she was at least drugged up enough that she was frustrated by it. she couldn't calm her thoughts.
carrie still remembered her mom. she'd been there only a few years ago, hugging her while she cried over her first heartbreak. god, if she'd known the shit she'd go through after that. at the time, it felt like nothing would ever make it better. her heart was broken for good, and no one would ever be able to fix it. she let her mom hold her and tell her that it would be okay, even if she didn't believe it. and after awhile, it was. she stopped hurting so bad, stopped crying herself to sleep, stopped needing to hug her mom at random intervals during the day. it was okay. it was silly to think that at one point, she thought no one could ever hurt her worse. and then her mom left. she went to cvs and never came back and after awhile, carrie couldn't pretend the line was long. she would've thought that her mom would be here now, at least. that she'd care a little bit. but she didn't, she truly didn't. carrie's father had driven her away and now she didn't give a fuck that her daughter was suffering.
she remembered the dreams she had. she was dreaming of writing on a chalkboard. she was giving a lecture at the local college about the best way to eat caviar. she had never even eaten caviar. she lifted her hand to the chalkboard to write about it, but all she could write was mom over and over again. mom mom mom momomomomomomomom until her name became scribbles and everyone left the room. she wrote it until her hand ached and eventually the chalk was all gone, the chalkboard was completely covered and illegible.
then, suddenly, she was a little girl again. this was less of a dream and more of a memory. she'd fallen off her bike and scraped her knee. her mom washed it, put a bandaid on and kissed it. she promised that she'd always love carrie no matter what happened, that everything would be okay. that she was sorry. it didn't make sense at the time, but laying there now, everything was so much clearer. that was the first of many goodbyes over the years. she'd considered leaving many, many times. that much was clear.
carrie still hadn't opened her eyes, hadn't accepted the reality of this. did maggie know? of course she did. her dad would've told her immediately. god, carrie's head was killing her. and she felt like a caged dog. like everyone was worried she'd maul someone. was that her life now? were people going to jump at her shadow? she had to squeeze her eyes shut further to keep from crying.
eventually, she fell asleep, without having looked around the hospital room she was in. without asking a nurse for some water. without going pee. the medication made her tired and she hadn't slept in so long. she dreamed of her mom again, and her dad, and maggie. and the next time she woke up, she faced her life head on. she didn't really have a choice.