Spacek portrays carrie as a young girl in the films deleted prologue.

FADE IN:

From an absolutely glistening WHITE, an image which first appears to be a brilliantly shining glass globe, and then gradually becomes more a piece of solid matter, less a mystery.

1 EXT. WHITE BUNGALOW (OR HOUSE) -- DAY 1

FILLING THE FRAME like a picture postcard. Modest, old-fashioned, spotless -- a vision of small town normalcy and virtue.

This is the home of MARGARET WHITE and her daughter CARRIE. It seems to have been scrubbed -- from roof to porch, it is white. Even the lawn seems to have been washed and bleached. Antiseptic.

We hear a woman's voice:

MARGARET: Carrie! Carrie!

The voice is distant but insistent. It is heard, in perspective, through the following prologue, which initially involves:

2 STELLA HORAN -- DAY 2

An All-American sunbathing beauty of eighteen, getting the tan of her life with only a skimpy white bikini running interference between her skin and the sun.

The CAMERA SLOWLY PANS OVER the expanse of her body -- luxuriantly, taking it in inch for inch as she dreamily rubs in lotion and licks her lips. The MUSIC is coming from a transistor radio by her side; she's on a beach blanket in the Horan backyard.

3 DOWNWARDS ANGLE -- STELLA 3

as she senses someone standing over her, someone staring at her body through the half-grown hedge which separates the Horan home from the White house next door.

VOICE: What are those?

4 STELLA'S POV -- CARRIE WHITE 4

A terribly appealing little girl, a child of indeterminate age. Pink cheeks, a halo of blonde-white hair which will darken in time. What sets her apart from other children, however, are a pair of bright button brown eyes; and it is these eyes that we notice as she peers at Stella through the hedge.

STELLA: Hiya, Carrie. Gee you gave me a fright. (turning down the radio) How long have you been there?

CARRIE: (not smiling; pointing with her finger) What are those?

Stella looks where Carrie is pointing: the top of her bikini has slipped, just barely revealing her breasts -- white against the golden tan. Stella adjusts her suit -- not out of any particular modesty of her own but as a reflex at being stared at so strangely.

STELLA: Those are my breasts, honey.

CARRIE: (a beat; then, solemnly) I wish I had some.

STELLA: You will. 'Course you'll have to wait a couple of years, but --

CARRIE: (a fact) No I won't. (emphatic) No I won't. (glancing behind her) Momma says no ... Momma says good girls don't.

STELLA: (at something of a loss) Well, I'm a good girl. And besides, doesn't your mother have breasts?

5 CARRIE 5

glances anxiously at the mention of her mother at the White house next door. She swallows her words so that all Stella and we hear is:

CARRIE: ... dirty pillows.

STELLA: What?

CARRIE: Momma calls them dirty pillows. Says she's got them 'cuz she was bad when she made me.

6 STELLA 6

Incredulous. But she senses that Carrie is both perfectly serious and quite worried, and she too glances warily over at the White house just beyond the half-grown hedge.

She kneels next to Carrie and tries to laugh it off.

STELLA: Now, honey, that's just silly. Listen -- you must be real hot in that long dress. What do you say we go inside and get us some lemonade, would you like that?

7 CARRIE 7

clearly torn -- tempted but in the clutch of some weird terror -- as if she expected the earth to open and swallow her up. She shakes her head.

STELLA: C'mon. (offering her hand) It'll be our secret.

Carrie -- now really scared -- shakes her head and disappears farther into the hedge.

CARRIE: I can't!

STELLA: Sure you can. I make it nice and sweet, and --

And just at that moment, a figure appears in a second-story window in the White house. Although Stella and we really can't see distinctly through the sun's glare, it's unmistakably MARGARET WHITE. The moment this big woman sees her daughter with Stella, she lets out a bloodcurdling scream:

MARGARET: CAARRIEETTAAA!!!

8 CARRIE, STELLA 8

Both frozen by this terrible sound.

9 STELLA'S POV -- CLOSER ON CARRIE 9

as she sucks in her breath, quivering with fright, looking as if she might faint. She looks quickly to Stella, then back at the White house, then back to Stella. For the merest flash, she seems to smile -- or is she about to cry?

And then, she's gone -- running around the hedge and then up the porch stairs and into the White house as fast as her legs can carry her.

10 STELLA 10

stands there, riveted. Not knowing what's happened, what to do. It's utterly silent for a moment.

And then, an incredible CACOPHONY of strange sounds starts coming from the White house -- an unearthly babble as Margaret White screams, rants, and screeches; as Carrie sobs that she's sorry, that she forgot.

STELLA: Mother! (louder) Mother!

11 THE HORAN HOUSE 11

as MRS. HORAN -- in an old housedress with the hem falling down the back -- rushes out in answer to her daughter's call.

MRS. HORAN: What in the name of God? What's the matter?

STELLA: (frantic) I don't know ... Carrie was just talking to me, and Mrs. White started screaming and ...

12 THE WHITE HOUSE 12

The sun glistening brilliantly on it as in the opening shot. Again, it should appear like a huge glass globe over which we counterpoint one mother/daughter dialogue with the less distinct babble of another:

MARGARET (voice over): I told you to stay away from there, I told you ...

CARRIE (v.o): I'm sorry, Momma.

MARGARET (v.o.): ... to stay away from that girl, that whore ...

CARRIE (v.o.): Please, Momma!

MARGARET (v.o.): ... of Babylon!

which continues over:

13 TWO SHOT -- STELLA AND MRS. HORAN 13

Their eyes riveted on the house, trying, squinting to see through the sun's terrible glare.

STELLA: Don't you yell at her like that! Stop that!

MRS. HORAN: That poor sweet child ...

STELLA: Mother, we've got to do something!

MRS. HORAN: What?

STELLA: Call the police? Mother, call the police!

MRS. HORAN: (not about to interfere; hopeless) The child ...

At this point, the hysteric babble reaches its crescendo; we should be able to pick out phrases of this cacophony as Margaret rants at Carrie to go into her closet and pray for forgiveness; as Carrie's frightened little voice proclaims that she forgot, that she's sorry. And then suddenly, the screaming stops and it's quiet -- dead quiet.

14 THE WHITE HOUSE 14

as it becomes more distinct, visible. There's a low WHISTLING SOUND, and then what appears to be a stone the size of a small pebble lands on the roof.

Another, slightly larger one appears a second or two later. And then another, and another, and ...

15 TIGHTER TWO SHOT -- STELLA AND MRS. HORAN 15

squinting, blinking at the pebbles which are coming down like marbles ...

16 THE WHITE HOUSE 16

as it's pelted with what are now even larger stones -- WHISTLING, SCREAMING in the air like miniature bombs.

Stones from a perfectly blue summer day.

Stones ranging in size from marbles to handballs.

One of them hits a downspout, knocking it onto the lawn. CRASHING, CRACKING SOUNDS as these pieces tear into the stucco roof, leaving holes.

The effect is that of a drum being bombarded.

17 TWO SHOT -- MRS. HORAN AND STELLA 17

Frozen to the spot: Mrs. Horan with her hands over her ears, her screams blending with the SOUND of larger and larger stones as they pelt the house and we hear Margaret throughout screaming:

MARGARET'S VOICE: Stop that! Stop that!

Stella is clutching Mrs. Horan like a child terrified by the freakiest of summer storms -- a healthy young woman as her figure in the bikini testifies, but a child nonetheless, this nightmarish moment.

18 THE HOUSE 18

as still larger stones hail from the sky.

And then just as suddenly and inexplicably as they began, just as incredibly as they started, they stop.

19 TWO SHOT -- THE WOMEN 19

Mrs. Horan with her hands still over her ears, her daughter standing next to her, transfixed on the lawn. Once again, it's quiet.

20 THE WHITE HOUSE 20

as one final stone -- this one the size of a mere pebble, a small mothball -- falls from the roof and plops onto the lawn.

The image growns lighter and lighter. All the color seems to bleach out, turning the screen once again into an incredible, silently blazing white.

As the colors bleach out,