Once Upon A Karma (Karmic Krystal Book 1) by Rosie Malezer Read Free Book Online Page B

Blyton, various Australian Aboriginal Dreamtime story books and more… as well as the entire collection of our Little Golden Books.
    “It’s beautiful!” I say to both of my parents, knowing that many of the books were Mum’s contribution to the shelves.  My sisters and I sit in front of the bookcase, with each of us trying to decide which book to read first.  Eventually, my mother leans over and pulls out a book by Enid Blyton, titled, “ The Naughtiest Girl in the School .”  Leena raises an eyebrow, as if to silently ask if our mother is taking a jab at her upcoming year at school with the big kids.
    Over the following week, I slide a book out from the new bookcase, titled, “ The Rainbow Serpent ,” which tells the story of how the rivers were created throughout the land.  After I finish looking at the pictures, I carefully slide the book back into the same slot before taking out the next book, “ Tiddalick, the Frog who caused a Flood .”  I look forward to the day when I actually learn how to read!
    Tania’s first day of kindergarten arrives.  Leena and I play together during the day while Tania is away, since Leena is not due to start the first grade in big girl’s school for another two weeks.  She spends most of those two weeks teaching me how to ride a bicycle.  My tricycle is packed away into the storage area and my bigger bike from last year is pulled out of storage, its training wheels still attached.  With a whole lot of practice, I get better and better at riding.  As my legs get used to the pedalling motion and I practice using the brakes, Leena rides slowly alongside me to make sure no harm befalls her littlest sister.
    While we are outside on our bikes, a car drives past.  The driver throws a beer bottle out of the car just as it passes our house, missing my sister by mere inches.  As the bottle hits the ground, it explodes, spraying shards of glass in all directions.  I know that if any of my family stands on the broken glass without shoes, their feet will be torn to shreds.  Looking up at the car, I frown as the driver continues his journey along the road.  Oh, no you don’t!   The car’s front tyres both suddenly explode, causing the car to run off the road.  As soon as it comes to a full halt, the driver slowly emerges from the car, cursing loudly, although visibly shaken by what had just happened. 
    Our mother comes downstairs, shocked at all of the broken glass on the ground, accompanied by all of the cussing she can hear in the presence of her two young children.  Angry and fearless, she marches right up to the inebriated, potty-mouthed driver who is scratching his head and kicking the car’s tyres.
    “You are going to get your ass back to my house right now and clean up every single bit of broken glass on my lawn.” she yells; every syllable of her words laced with pure fury. 
    “Screw you, fucking bitch!” the driver screams, standing nose to nose with our mother and glaring into her eyes.  I look at the glass again, relieved that the bottle did not hit my sister or me, before climbing off my bike and walking towards my mother and the careless driver. 
    “Pick. It. Up.” I take my mother’s hand and stare up into the driver’s eyes.  I visualise my sisters and parents walking on the broken glass, screaming as blood pours out of their feet which have been torn apart, as if the soles of their feet had just been sent through an industrial-strength shredder.  Let’s see how you would feel in their shoes.  Looking away from his eyes, I glance at the driver’s feet.  Within seconds, blood starts flowing out of the driver’s shoes.  The man screams higher than any soprano, before hopping up and down from one foot to the other, as if he was standing on burning hot coals.
    “Ow, FUCK! ” he shouts.  Mum quickly covers my ears.  The driver, slowly and painfully, walks back towards the house.  He leans down and picks up two small pieces of broken glass