When Karma Steps In…

Even five year old Krystal knows that sometimes, no matter how bad things get, Karma can do crazy things 😉

(Once Upon A Karma – an extract. Copyright © 2015 Rosie Malezer)

Shortly after my mother’s bedroom door opens, she comes into my room when she sees me sitting up on the bed, staring at the window.

“Krystal honey?  Is everything okay?” she asks as she sits down on the side of the bed, a look of concern on her face.

“I need to ring Daddy,” I reply.

“It’s very early.  Has something happened?  Can you ring a little bit later?” she asks.

“I want to ring now, please.  I promised Daddy that I would,” I say, frowning at the memories of last night.  As a tear rolls down my cheek, Mum agrees to let me call.  I then see Eddie standing in the doorway, growling about being woken up.

“Did the retard piss the bed?” he snarls.  Give me a reason, Eddie.  As I listen to Eddie prattle on, I can’t help but wish he would simply vanish from our lives. I close my eyes and my mother leans over to hug me.

“Ignore him,” my mother whispers in my ear.  “Let’s go and make a phone call, okay?” she says, offering some reassurance with a smile.  We both climb off my bed and walk past Eddie like he isn’t even there.  She dials the number, waits for my dad to answer and then gives the handset to me.

“Daddy?” I say, happy to hear his voice.

“Hey, Krystal.  Is everything okay?” he says.  Every word sounds like an effort and I know right then that the phone woke him up.

“You remember when you told me no secrets?” I ask.  A small break of silence fills the air and I wait for him to respond.

Sounding quite alert, he says, “What happened?  Tell me.”

“I met my cousin, Anthony, yesterday…”

“Speaking of Anthony, where the fuck is he?” interrupts Eddie from the living room.  Ignoring Eddie, I resume my conversation on the phone with my father.

“Daddy, he did to me what Grandpa did when I was little,” I say.  When I hear a glass smash on the floor of the kitchen, I look up to see a horrified look on my mother’s face at what I had just said.  Eddie runs into the kitchen and frowns when he sees the mess that Mum had made.

“Do you want me to come and get you, sweetheart?  Are you alright?” Dad asks.

“You clumsy bitch!” Eddie screams at my mother.  As he raises a fist in the air, I realise his intentions.  Eddie’s fist swings down towards Mum.  At the same time, both of his feet are pulled towards me and Eddie slips, face first, into the broken glass.  When he lands on the floor, he inadvertently punches himself in the face with his own fist – the same fist he had raised at my mother.  Shards of glass slice through his skin, leaving tiny trails of blood gravitating towards the floor.  His nose oozes blood much faster.  Not only does he have pieces of glass stuck to his face, but he has broken his nose with his own fist.  Well done, dickhead.

Calmly, I respond with a smile on my face, “No, I am okay here.  I had better hang up.  It looks like Eddie might need a doctor.”  I can’t help but giggle.

“Krystal, tell me… is Anthony…” my father begins to say.

“Yeah.  He won’t do it again,” I quickly say.  “I love you, Daddy.  I will be home before my birthday, okay?”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replies, before hanging up the phone.

After replacing the handset, I look down at Eddie before looking up at my mum.  A stunned look is all she can manage, so I offer my assistance.

“Can I get you a Band-Aid, Eddie?” I say, trying hard not to laugh.  In a flash, my mother steps over her husband and rings an ambulance.  I can see she is struggling with a tug-o-war of emotions.  On the one hand, her husband was about to punch her in the face.  On the other, he just broke his own nose in the process and, with all of the glass sticking out of him, he looks like a new breed of cactus.  This would be a stressful moment for all of us… if it wasn’t so darned funny.

While waiting for the ambulance to arrive, Mum gets a clean cloth to try and stem the flow of blood from Eddie’s nose.  As he holds it in place, she pulls a set of tweezers out of the first aid kit which she keeps in the kitchen, as well as a bowl.  Slowly and painfully, she starts plucking Eddie like a chicken.  He jumps as each piece of glass is removed and placed into the bowl.  I tell them both that I will wait outside for the ambulance and ask for the key to the front door.  As soon as Mum hands it over, I pocket it and run as fast as I can to the stairs at the side of the house, shutting the door behind me.  Finally, I can laugh without him staring daggers at me.

(end of extract)

The moral of the story?  Never raise a fist to somebody who loves you. May Karma kick your balls if you dare.


– Rosie xx


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