Curious , she crushed it between her fingers . A putrid , breathy smell rose from the smeared paste . She wiped it off , but the smell lingered on her fingers until she washed them later .
That evening , after doing some quick research , Carrie concluded that what she had coughed up had been a tonsilliolith . Over time , particles of the random debris and detritus that wandered through her mouth had been caught in the crypts of her tonsils , calcified and developed into a small , stinky nugget . It fascinated her . Carrie hadn ’ t even known her tonsils had crypts .
She went to the bathroom , flashlight in hand . Opening her mouth wide , she leaned close in front of the mirror . With the light shining in , she could see the folds and fleshy crevices in her tonsils . Carrie craned her neck , yawned and breathed , trying not to steam the mirror . When she flexed her neck muscles , strained the tendons , the caverns widened a little and , there in the pulpy roof of her mouth , just over the drop of her throat , a pale green knob was nestled in one of the folds . She prodded it with the back of a pen she had in her pocket , gagged , retched , then prodded again . Saliva flooded her mouth and she spit , thick and stringy , into the sink . She tried again , flicking at the nugget until it came loose . Behind it was another . Her tonsil was bleeding a little , but it did not concern her . She pressed with the pen until it squeezed loose , flowing to the front of her mouth then into the sink on a wave nausea thickened spit . She fished the nuggets out , crushed them and sniffed them , feeling a profound sense of release and satisfaction .
Carrie leaned on the window sill , looking out at the night . The half moon hung low over the skyline , backlight jagged islands of cloud . Carrie felt utterly peaceful , without any hint of the usual nagging revulsion . She showered and went to bed , feeling better than she had in months .
Over the next few weeks , Alice checked her tonsils in the mirror regularly . It got to the point that she rarely ever gagged , even when she used a pen to spread one of the openings wide or pressed hard with her finger to express a nugget as if she was squeezing a pimple . She became so focused on her tonsils that she began to forget the parts of her body she usually picked . The usual compulsions started to seem like substitutes , pretending , like the cutting had when she was younger . Unfortunately , her tonsils were not very productive . At first , there was a nugget every few days as the ones she pulled out made way for deeper , harder pieces , but then there was nothing . Days would pass , weeks , with nothing . However , whenever she finally did have the opportunity to purge one of the stinking clumps , the sense of cleansing and relief was enormous . For days afterwards she would feel more confident , clear headed and energetic . The revulsion that constantly clouded Carrie ’ s life faded away like fog burned off by summer sun . She found she was even able to think about Bill and the things that had happened , though she dared not look too deeply .
Bill had been her father ’ s best friend . He was around the house all the time , almost every day . He ’ d been like an uncle to Carrie . Then , when she ’ d been awkwardly stumbling into puberty , he ’ d started coming over when he knew her parents were out , started making her do things . It always ended the same way : the terrible taste , the tears , the threats . He ’ d always seemed like such a kind and loving person before , and even when he was initiating the abuse , he was friendly and full of promises . But once he ’ d finished , he turned vicious , threatening to kill her and her parents if she ever told anyone . It had gone on for over a year before her changing behaviour alerted her parents that something was wrong . After hours of questions about drugs and the horrible music she listened to , they ’ d finally dragged the truth from her . Her father had broken Bill ’ s jaw and his own knuckle the next day and that was the last Carrie had seen of the man she ’ d once considered family . She still knew where he lived though . After her exams , Carrie ’ s faculty administrator had arranged a number of internship interviews for her at various funeral parlors . Of the three , one found her “ unsuited to the job ”, one filled the position with another student , but the third decided to give her a chance . She began her internship a week later . At first it was just a matter of following Steve , her mentor , around and watching . She cleaned , helped out , did the usual fetch and carry duties for a couple of weeks . Then she gradually started interacting with the families and mourners , helping to finalize arrangements and finally working in the lab .
At first , Steve voiced concerns about Carrie ’ s awkward nature with the grieving families , but her dissociative and detached nature made her strangely calm and people seemed to relate to her . Though most people found her unsettling to be around , it seemed that those rattled by loss and despair found common ground with . Steve also acknowledged that she was very professional with embalming duties and showed none of the emotional fragility he ’ d expected of her when she was working with the bodies .
During the day , Carrie was doing better than she ’ d ever thought she could . She was getting comfortable interacting with people and experiencing definite success at the parlour . During the night though , other things were changing . Carrie spent hours scouring her throat looking for any sign of tonsil stones , but night after night she was disappointed . She found that the waves of disgust that she ’ d been managing for years were now getting out of control . Thoughts of Bill flooded into her head , injecting themselves in her dreams . She felt the corruption of guilt , shame and disgust filming over her mind like rust or mold , penetrating her consciousness like rot . She knew a tonsil stone would make her feel better , but her tonsils were producing nothing but blood , no matter how much she prodded . Staring into the mirror one night , flashlight aimed into the cave of her throat , she had an idea . She grabbed a small corner of tissue from the box on the back of the toilet , balled it up and , reaching with her index finger , wedged it deep into one of the gaping crannies of her tonsils . She swallowed a few times to test it and was satisfied that it was lodged well . As an afterthought , thinking back to an article about the Liber Juratus she ’ d read , she offered a semi-serious silent prayer to any devil , demon or other supernatural being