Karma

Hi everyone, I am truly sorry for my lack of posts but I have a few stories coming up that'll knock your socks off (if you're wearing them, if not, I suggest putting on a pair for the next few stories) 

Please note that the following stories are purely fictional. 

Sit back relax and enjoy, love and light my friends.

The night seems to drag when all you want to do is wake up and leave for school, that is one of the only feelings I can remember of my childhood. What you are reading are my last 17 years as told by me, Lilah Hanson. All my good deeds have clocked me up 30 years. Let me explain to you exactly how my universe works, just in case my story somehow lands up in a parallel universe. Our life span is determined by how much good we put into the world. You stop a little old lady from getting hit by a car, you live a couple more months, you get the gist of it. 

You see, I live in a world where people are doing good things just to live a little longer. But as easy as that sounds, our world wide religion makes it very difficult to fake these good deeds. We have deities, we are polytheistic. We have a main deity, her name is Karma, she is the goddess of justice. Karma ensures that no man may fake a kind act that may only benefit himself.

If I'm going to write this story honestly then I shall not withhold any information from you. 

All my life, I have had no problems with receiving extra years, although I have never purposefully tried. It was one of the reasons my father hated me so much. 

My father was a very hateful man. But, like all great politicians, he was very good at playing the wonderful father and devoted husband. He planned out his lies as early as 11 years ago. When I was 6 years old my father signed me up for a soccer club, which was a perfect cover up for the strange bruises that would occasionally take occupation across my cheek, or the gash on my thigh, I can still hear his voice saying, "Oh, that? She must have injured herself at soccer, she's very good, you know? One of the best in her school"

One of the only things my father liked about me, was that I could kick a ball like a boy. He never let me forget that I should've been a boy.  And until my fifteenth birthday, I hated myself for not being what he wanted me to be. My fifteenth birthday present was an all expenses paid trip to Barcelona. A trip that I would go on with my nanny, Sensa, she was the only person I knew that truly loved me. I was meant to be attending a soccer workshop, but Sensa decided to take me on a special tour of the unknown parts of Barcelona, she grew up in a small village there, so she knew exactly where to go and what to show me. 

It was a misty Tuesday morning, three days before I had to leave, Sensa and I had spent the whole night hiking up a mountain, whose name I could not pronounce. I reached the peak and looked at the view, I felt this tugging in my chest, my heart was pounding, I took a deep breath and nature washed over me and suddenly, I realized, I was exactly who I was meant to be. I no longer desired my fathers approval, I no longer hated my mother for never stopping my father from hurting me, I felt at peace, I knew that I was meant for much more than what my father thought I was for. 

I, Lilah Hanson, was going to change the world. 

So I got on my flight and went home. I had dinner with my family and told them how much I had learned in Barcelona, only, they thought I meant the soccer workshop. 

I went upstairs and packed my clothes and technology in a backpack, when I knew my mother and father were asleep, I went downstairs and grabbed my purse and my fathers car keys, got in his car and drove to the airport. You see, my father taught me everything too early, he got me my first bank account when I was nine years old and I had been saving money ever since, for college, I thought back then, I never thought I would use it to run away. When I was 12, my father paid for my first driving lesson and by the time I was 13, I knew how to drive every class of motor vehicle there was. 

When I got to the airport, I flashed around my passport and everyone knew I was that senators daughter, so they didn't ask any questions. I got on the next flight to Tibet, where I knew my father would never look. 

Fast forward two years, I live in a camp halfway up the Himalayan mountains, I found a group of Uruguayan scientists, studying Himalayan climate change, they took me in and I have spent two years cooking for them and teaching them American politics. 

Today is Thursday and it has been four days since I found out my father was tortured to death by a terrorist organisation that  wanted American Intel. All my life I had been taught about Karma, but after my life experience, I didn't believe she existed, Karma proved me wrong. I know I should have been mourning him, I should have felt sadness, but all I felt was relief, I didn't have to hide, I didn't have to hate him anymore. 

Tonight I will pack my bags, say goodbye to the only family I've had and I will go home. My time has come, it is my time to change the world.