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Prologue
There was a little girl who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead;
And when she was good, she was very, very good;
And when she was bad, she was horrid.
Carrie tried to hold absolutely still. The tape on her hands hurt and the hood on her head made breathing difficult, but she had to keep calm. She could hear Kylie crying, and she wanted to help her. She just didn’t know how yet.
“There was a little girl….”
They were in a barn. She knew because she smelled the straw and animals. And wood shavings. She didn’t think she’d ever smell wood shavings again without getting sick. And there was something else. Something she was sure didn’t belong in a barn. The unseen man had brought them here after he clapped something evil-smelling over their faces. The vile smelling stuff had put them to sleep so Carrie wasn’t certain how far away from home they were. When she woke up, the hood she now wore was already on her head, there was tape on her mouth, and her hands were tied behind her.
“There was a little girl…”
Over and over in that unnaturally high-pitched voice, the man recited the familiar nursery rhyme. Carrie tried to wriggle around to see if she could get closer to Kylie, but she was trapped.
“No, no, no,” the man cackled, alerted by the noise she was making. “You don’t want to be a horrid little girl. You know what happens to little girls who are horrid.”
They never should have talked to the clown. Only they were having so much fun at the fair. And there were lots of clowns talking to other kids. How were they supposed to know he was bad? They shouldn’t have walked away with him. Mama and Daddy always told them “don’t go with strangers.”
But clowns weren’t really strangers, were they?
“We’re only going to walk a little way,” he’d told them in a high voice.
But as soon as they were out of sight of the picnic area, the big clown grabbed Carrie under one arm and Kylie under the other. Before they could catch their breath to scream, he’d pressed something awful-smelling to their faces.
When she woke up, she was in this barn seated on a chair, hands tied behind her so tightly her wrists hurt. She couldn’t see Kylie, but she heard her and even though she was scared, knowing her sister was with her had made her feel a little better. The feeling hadn’t lasted long. Soon after she woke, the clown pulled off her underpants and hurt her. She tried not to cry and scare Kylie.
But then he’d whispered, “Your sister’s next and I’m going to let you hear her.”
In seconds, Kylie started shrieking in fear and pain. Hearing her sister’s cries, Carrie began to cry, too, soundlessly, behind the tape over her mouth.
The hood on her head seemed tighter now, and it was getting difficult to breathe. Still, she had to keep calm. She had to put everything out of her mind except Kylie. She was the big sister. She had to try and get free so she could help Kylie. Shehadto. She just didn’t know how yet.
Kylie shrieked in pain, and the sound echoed in Carrie’s head.
Suddenly, Kylie’s voice was cut off in mid-scream, and Carrie knew the clown was killing her. Knew it in her heart. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She was more frightened than she’d ever been in her life.
His hands were on her body again, and he shifted her this way and that while he touched her in strange, frightening ways.
“Your sister didn’t last too long, did she? That means I’ll have to have fun with you again, little girl.”
Carrie tried to flop herself off the chair, but it was hard to do with her hands tied behind her back and the clown man’s hands holding her in place. Kylie, Kylie, Kylie, she chanted silently and bit her lip until she tasted blood. All the while she tried not to scream, not to frighten Kylie any more than she already was. Just in case—please Mama and Daddy and God—Kylie was still alive.
Then she heard it. A strange noise, an engine of some kind outside the barn. The clown man muttered some very bad words, but she ignored him as she strained to hear the noise.
Her whole body was on fire with pain, and her head felt as if it would explode as hands squeezed her throat. She fought to breathe, to cry out to whoever was outside. She listened hard, hoping someone would come and help them. Maybe it was Mama and Daddy. Please be Mama and Daddy.
Suddenly the hands were gone, so abruptly that she slumped sideways, and people were talking.
“We shouldn’t be here, you dipshit. Whose place is this, anyway?”
“I dunno. It’s just an old barn. Been here forever.”
“I saw a light. Someone’s there. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
