This is the story of a girl called Karma. A story of new beginnings and bright hopes for redemption. And the moral of the story? That is for you to decide. They were young when she was born. They had been through so much to be together, too many challenges and so many struggles and here they were. They were proving everyone wrong. They were 18 and their future was bright as the blue eyes of the little infant that the mother cradled in her arms. They would show everyone: they were smart and strong and in love and this little baby would be proof of how far they had come. “Do you have a name”? the nurse asked them. Both nodded and smiled as they told her. “Poor little bugger”, the nurse thought to herself, as she wrote the name on the card she placed into the slot on top of the crib. “Karma Waters” Karma was lovely baby, small, and perfectly formed. But she would not settle. She did not suckle easily or gain weight like the baby book said she should. “Failure to Thrive” the nurse at the community health centre had told them. “She just needs a little extra love, and she will be fine”. But how could they give her extra love when they had only just learned to love themselves? The mother grew resentful and with every cry and every dirty nappy she stepped further away from her baby. Hardening her heart and closing her mind. She fed little Karma and bathed and clothed her, but she never had the little extra that was needed, so each time she gave a little less, till there was nothing she wanted to give. The father went to work and came home and told the mother to shut the baby up, if she cried or grizzled. And the mother said, “You wanted her too….” “Yea, well careful what you wish for hey?” he told her, “Karma’s a bitch”. That was the first time she heard it, but it wouldn’t be the last. When she was three years old the mother placed her into the local preschool. The director sniggered when she saw the little girl’s name on her list. “Look at this one,” she said to her colleague. “Karma Waters – what were these parents thinking? Let’s hope it’s not more like Stormy Seas.” Her friend chuckled, “Watch out” he replied, “Karma will get you, and we all know that Karma is a bitch!” Oh, weren’t they clever? They thought so. But that is how it went. No-one saw the beautiful child, the bright intellect, the curious mind, and the kind heart. Certainly not her parents. They had discovered that the picket fence dream was harder than it seemed, not that they would tell anyone. They shut out the world and grew bitter and hateful. When her parents didn’t attend Parent Teacher night, Miss Jenkins from the primary school visited them at home, concerned about Karma being withdrawn and quiet. “She is never a problem,” she explained, “but she just seems so sad. Do you need any help?” She asked, “Does she need someone to speak to?” But the parents said “No” their pride taking over, they were doing fine. Showing everyone how successful they were, while inside the cracks started. And with each snigger and every laugh or cruel taunt, little Karma could feel the crack widen. At first it was just a like a little hairline in a fine China cup. When you held it up to the light and looked really closely you could just see it. But it was obvious that in time the crack would grow, all you had to do was look. The children at school learnt from their parents and the parents didn’t think twice to mock the young girl for nothing more than the name the parents had given her. One afternoon the school bus stopped in its usual place and children spilled onto the footpath - each heading home. Karma stood quietly while the bus pulled away. When the traffic was clear she crossed to the other side of the road and stood in the gutter. She had seen it from the bus, the magpie flapping its wings and struggling to breath. A casualty of a careless driver, blood covered its body and on the side of its head flesh stripped back to expose the pearly white of its skull. She removed the scarf from around her neck and ever so gently scooped up the bird and swathed it in the fabric. She held the broken body to her chest and whispered gently to the bird as she stepped into the parkland behind her. There she sat at the base of a tree with the injured bird until its breath left it body and it was at peace. She placed it at the foot of the tree and stood to go. The other children had watched her pick up the bird and thought it was the most disgusting thing they had ever seen. ‘Weirdo!” they called her as they ran off laughing. Weirdo? Karma was a gentle soul, she loved the broken things, the overlooked and the lonely. She found beauty in the missing piece, the spiderweb and fallen leaves. But soon stories spread around the school, fuelled by stupidity and boredom about little Karma Waters and what she would do to you. They had seen her strangle a bird with her bare hands and eat the brain, children said. And a mother might have stepped up for her little girl, and a father might have protected her, but both did neither and they turned their backs on the one they had hoped would be their redemption. Such a heavy load for such a small person. Karma felt the crack widen. When she was 15, Karma walked into the local fast-food outlet and walked out with a job. When she filled out the form for preferred name she wrote “Kay” and that was who she became. She worked hard and her supervisor, Ellen, said she was the most reliable casual she had. Ellen told everyone what a lovely girl Kay was. At home Karma kept to herself. She did her homework and studied and kept out of her parents’ way. Time had dulled their ambitions, and they had settled into the life they had known before, one of blame and anger, neglect, and ambivalence. With each passing day Karma made herself smaller and little by little the cracks grew. She loved going to work and that was where she met him. He worked the fryer, and she was on the counter. He had gone to a different school, and he had never seen her before. He was taken with the small girl, almost a woman. After the late shift at work, they would meet behind the dumpster, and he would smoke a cigarette, then he would wrap his arms around her and kiss her. He smelt of old oil and tobacco smoke, and he made her feel safe. He told her she was beautiful. He said he loved her. But one Saturday he was not at work, and when Karma went to the dumpster after her shift to look for him, he was there waiting for her. She fell into him as she always did, but his eyes were wide and his manner violent. His pushed her away, his hands tight upon her arms, “I know all about you, my friends know who you are,” he growled his voice gruff and ugly. “Karma, a real bitch! Trying to trick me.” She tore herself from him and as she did the crack became a chasm. As she made her way home that night, the chasm opened. It was dark and bottomless; the void was endless and welcoming and all she had to do was step over. It was Ellen who called Karma’s parents, when she didn’t show up for her shift for the second time. It was most unusual for Kay not to come to work, she told them. “Kay?”, the mother asked, “You mean Karma, she’ll be right…you know what they say.” “No, I don’t,” replied Ellen. “Karma will get you, Karma’s a bitch. She’s a weird one but she’ll be right,” said the mother. “Are you for real?” Ellen cried as she hung up the phone and dialled the police to report the young girl missing. Truth be told, the mother hadn’t even noticed. Her picture was on the 6 o’clock news and the newsreader struggled to keep the smile off her face as she announced, “Police have asked the public to be on the lookout for Karma Waters. The 16-year-old has been missing for a week, and her parents have no idea of her whereabouts.” And in lounge rooms across the country people sniggered and giggled at the unusual name. “Bloody oath, Karma Waters,” they said. “Why would you do that to a kid?” the husband asked. “Probably bloody hippies,” answered the wife. “Karma Waters!” the young woman scoffed as she looked at little Raider Blue, busy nursing at her breast. “Imagine calling your child Karma Waters.” A week became a month, and a month became a year, and people forgot all about the missing teenager. And what of the parents? Are they haunted by the knowledge that they lost the brightest jewel without ever knowing that they held it in their arms. Or were they relieved that she was gone? And what became of Karma? One night when the chasm was deep and beckoning, she had curled tight in her bed. Thoughts tortured her mind and sleep came slowly, but with it came the broken things she loved. In her dreams she lit a fire, and the flightless birds gathered to her. The blind dogs, the black cats and the lame horses surrounded her. The stars shone down upon them, and they folded themselves around her, feathers and fur cradling her and their hearts beating in unity as they whispered a gentle lullaby. “Stay strong, little one, stay strong”. Each day Karma disappeared, silent and still, almost invisible, but each night the beasts came and held her. They lay beneath her and made a soft mattress for her weary heart. Every evening they sang in her dreams. “Stay strong little one, stay strong.” And she did. One day when the sun rose, she was gone. She gathered a few simple belongings and made her way to the train station. She had saved all her wages, and she bought a ticket to the end of the line, then she changed trains and caught another and another until was home far away, and the day was nearly spent. It was dark when she arrived. The city buzzed with people, heading home, or heading out. Not one knew who she was. Or so she thought. “Hello,” called a voice from the crowd, “over here! I’ve been waiting for you.” Karma turned to see a tall girl with a nose ring and green hair. She was holding a sign “Karma Waters”. “It seems you have been,” said Karma. “But how did you know?” “I’m from the Youth Hostel, you made a booking?” “I did. It has been a long day.” “It’s ok, you’re here now,” she smiled. “Is that really your name?” the green haired girl asked. “It is amazing - that is an absolute rock star name. I am so jealous. My name is Jane, boring old Jane. Jane Matthews,” she said, “glad to meet you,” and she stuck out her hand. And just like that the world turned, a tiny little spin, an act of kindness, a friendly face and Karma smiled too and took her hand. “Yep, that’s me,” she replied. “Karma Waters. Do you meet everyone that is staying at the Hostel”? “No, just those that arrive when it’s dark. Someone did it for me, and it made me feel safe when I was in a brand-new place and now, I like to do it for the night arrivals, sort of paying it forward.” “That’s really nice,” Karma nodded. “Do you work there?” “No, I’m studying, but I help when I can.” Jane took a long look at the newcomer and smiled, ‘What will you do here Karma Waters?” she asked. “The world is your oyster!” Karma thought to for a moment, opportunities suddenly available before her. “Study sounds good, I think I would like that.” That night Karma slept at the Hostel, curled tight, exhausted from the day’s journey. When sleep came the beasts found her, she lit the fire under the stars, and the animals rose up around her and sang. The flightless birds waved their wings in a merry dance, and the lame horses threw back their heads and let forth their glorious voice. The black cats and the blind dogs joined in the joyous chorus. Karma watched her friends celebrate and then when they were done, giddy from excitement they fell to her and slept content in the comfort they found in each other. Each night the broken things visit her, and she tells them of her day, of her dreams and her friends. They wrap themselves around her, and sing to her while she sleeps, and she stays strong. Karma is safe. So, you see while everyone thought that Karma was missing, she had finally found herself. She now stood tall and said her name proudly, for she was Karma Waters.

Shed your skin And begin Leave the past behind Be brave, take that step, See it there in your mind. I know it sounds simple, And I know that it’s not, When you’ve chained yourself To the worries you’ve got. But when the day is done And the moon fills the sky You can look at yourself And say, “Yes, I tried”. May sleep come gently When you close your eyes, When the sun Starts it climb, Open your heart And open your mind, Shed your skin And begin Again.

I took a mandarin to work today. I reached into the fridge for the left-over pasta and saw his plump little being and thought “Well, don’t you look delightful!” He fit perfectly into the palm of my hand, all orange and zesty and with a satisfied grin I placed him in my padded cooler bag, next to the spag bol, and zipped it up. At work I put my lunch in the fridge, but my little fruity friend took pride of place on my desk, next to my water bottle, just waiting for morning tea. I could tell that people who stopped by were impressed. I could nearly hear them thinking “oh look at her, she’s got fruit today”. I knew they thought I was being super healthy, and I was super proud. As the day passed, we shared our space peacefully. Little mandy was probably the best co-worker in the place. He sat quietly, he didn’t judge or question my spelling, his very presence was enough to give me confidence. I will have you for afternoon tea, I told him silently. All being said it was a very good day, I enjoyed it very much. It was five o’clock before I knew it, and my day at the office was complete. As I turned off my computer I caught site of my juicy companion and smiling gently, scooped him up and deposited him back in his carrier for the trip home. I think perhaps tomorrow I will take an apple.