"There is blood on your hands."

Carrie looked down upon her hands, at her long white fingers splotched with crimson.  Her chin trembled as she flexed her stiff fingers and watched the blood fill the crevices of her knuckles.  Bits of tissue stained angry red dug under her nails as if splinters of wood.  Her hands shook.  Her alarm clock screamed with frustrated rage.  It's angry voice rising louder and louder.

"There is blood on your hands Carrie.  What did you do?"

Her pale blue eyes blinked back their tears.  The muscles of her cheeks tightened as she fought herself, warred with her own grief and misery.  "Oh God."  She gasped, her throat constricting, stopping her air.  Pressing the palms of her hands together she tried to rub away the filth and slime.  "Marie."  Why wouldn't it stop ringing?  She covered her ears with her gore encrusted hands.  Still the alarm sounded: violent agony.  She could feel it's angry tentacles slithering down her ears and infecting her brain.  Shut up!

"What did you do, Carrie? Tell me!"

Heavy burning tears filled her eyes and spilled out.  They ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her shirt.  Brilliant red stains already turning rusty brown awakened.  "Marie."  She couldn't say it.  Couldn't say the words that stuck to the back of her mouth as peanut butter.  Helpless.   Shut up, shut up!  Her palms pressed harder against her ears, muffling out the horrified, shrill alarm.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, CARRIE?"

"He wouldn't stop crying...  I tried to give him a bottle - to feed him.. his screaming was so loud... he wouldn't stop crying..."