Once upon a time…

I lay in a small heap on the left side of a country lane.

My name is Karma Dawn. My mother always told me that she named me Karma because she once did something unspeakably horrible and she got something bad back in return—me.

1 WEEK AGO

“Karma, Karma!” My best friend Ryin Delany screamed running down the hall. “Finally! I’ve been looking for you since—Holy crap! What the Hell happened to your eye?” She questioned looking at my black eye. “My mom.” I answered sullenly. “Karma, you should really do something about this. It pains me to always see you covered in bruises. You know I don’t think I remember one time when you didn’t have a bruise on you.” She said looking at me sternly. “I-I d-d-don’t want to. What if she beats me to death? I’m scared.” I said looking around nervously as if she would pop out at anytime. My mom beats me. Ryin is right I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have a bruise on my body.

Bring, bring, bring! The final bell rang. Ryin and I walked arm in arm out the schools doors. I’ve known Ryin for about six years, we don’t have many things in common but, you know what they say; opposites attract! I arrived at my house, and Ryin looked at me with a worried expression. “ I’ll be fine, and I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.” Ryin managed to give me a small smile, “ Good luck,” she whispered. “Thanks,” I replied. With that she walked off.

I opened the door to my house, “Mom?” I said hesitantly. “Karma! Get in here!” She shouted from the other room. I walked into the living room getting myself mentally prepared for my daily beating. I squeezed my eyes shut. Crack! Her whip slapped my back so hard that I felt blood oozing down it. She slapped me again, this time I winced and I bit my lip to stifle my cries of help. She pulled out a switchblade and stood up from her chair. She pushed the blade into my right shoulder and dragged it down my arm all the way to my index finger. I screamed bloody murder. “Shut up, the neighbors will hear!” She screamed. “I’m done with you, go clean yourself up.” She ordered. I ran upstairs with tears in my eyes. I walked into the bathroom and pulled off my now blood covered shirt. I examined the cuts; I had to be sure not to wear a t-shirt because of my right arm. I took a cloth and drenched it in hydrogen peroxide. I dabbed at the cuts, screaming in pain whenever I made contact with them. When I was all cleaned up I put on my pajamas and did my math homework. When all that was finished I set my alarm and lay on my stomach due to the pain of the cuts.

I woke up in the middle of the night and heard my mom talking on the phone. I cautiously made my way down the stairs; I could barely make out the words but I caught on to some of them like tomorrow, kill, and karma. In those few words I knew only one thing—she was going to kill me.