Page 2 of Losing Control

“You’re crazy. It’s dark. Come on. I scammed this pot, and I’m going to smoke it.”

A door creaked open and Carrie tensed.

“Hey, Skeet, turn on your flashlight so we can see in here.”

The new voices were inside the barn now, coming closer. Closer.

“We can just… Holy shit!”

“What? What’s the matter? Oh, Jesus. God!”

“Don’t touch them. Go get someone. There’s a house down by the turn.”

Carrie forced herself to whimper. Help me, she screamed in her head.

“Hey, Skeet, I think this one’s alive. Go call the sheriff. Don’t just stand there. Hurry up! Now, dumbass. Move it!”

Hands pulled the hood from Carrie’s head, and she blinked in the sudden light. Someone, not the clown man, placed her on the floor, and she began to shiver like she did when it was too cold outside.

“Kylie,” she tried to say, to turn toward her sister.

“No, no,” the person who’d freed her said.

“Help…Kylie.” She forced the words out through swollen lips.

But nothing happened. The man didn’t move. She tried to do it herself. Tried to go to her sister, but she couldn’t make her body move. It seemed like forever before anyone else came to help.

She heard the car doors slamming. Heavy feet running toward her. Men’s voices. More strangers.

“Holy mother of God,” someone said in an angry voice.

Hands touched her. Turned her.

“Careful,” someone said. “Her thighs are covered with blood.”

“I’ll move her as gently as I can,” the first man said.

There were more voices and more hands, and she shrieked in terror. “No!” She tried to pull herself away from all the men touching her. Were they going to hurt her, too? One man had already hurt her and Kylie.

“Oh, little sweetheart. Oh, you poor baby.”

A tall man crouched beside her, gently working the tape off her wrists. He tried to lift her from the floor, but Carrie struggled to get away.

“Kylie!” She screamed, kicking at the man, biting at him until he backed away.

“It’s all right, honey,” he was saying. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Help Kylie.” Her eyes slid fearfully to her sister, but the image was so horrible she squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” the man said. “I just want to help you. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

She pulled away from him again. She hurt so bad. Everything inside felt like a big sore, but it didn’t stop her from running to Kylie. Her sister’s broken body lay on the floor of the barn, and she knelt beside her and tried to pull her into her arms. The nice man bent down to lift her away, but she kicked at him again, so he let her be.

That’s how the sheriff and the deputies found her, cradling the small body of her sister in her arms.

The sheriff squatted down beside her, careful not to touch her. “It’s okay, Carrie. We’ll take care of Kylie now. Everything’s all right, little one.”

But everything wasn’t all right and Carrie knew nothing would ever be all right again.

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