“NO! Why’d you shoot him! I told you not to shoot any hostages! You weren’t supposed to kill anyone! Oh, man, You just screwed us all over. You do what I say, when I say it, you hear? Now, umm-- T-t-take the rest of them to the roof, and make sure they can’t see your face, you freaking idiot!” I exclaimed in shock and started to panic. “But what about--,” Calvin began to speak, but I cut him off mid- sentence. “Just shut up and do what I say!” The door busted open and fell. “DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP! STOP! CEASE AND DESIST IMMEDIATELY!” My legs were moving a little too slow right now. I sprinted upstairs to the roof of the penthouse, overlooking a busy Miami street. Would I survive a 6 story drop? I wasn’t about to wait for the pigs to cuff me and find out. So, in a fit of panic, I jumped; and sincerely hoped that I would live.

In a precarious situation, a second can mean the difference between your survival and your death. Your state of mind can help you triumph over a treacherous feat, or assist you in meeting your demise. They say, “revenge is a dish best served cold, and vengeance is often more satisfying if it is not exacted immediately.” But sometimes, the temptation is just too strong. The yearning of seeing your foes fall is almost unfightable. I didn’t want to wait for karma to get them, I wanted to personally do the damage. Karma would get a break, for once. Because I would be taking her job for a while. I am irrefutably invincible. I am now Karma.

Let’s backtrack for a second. I was a typical, normal extrovert residing in Miami, Florida. I was extremely charismatic, and I had the gift of gab. I was known by most and loved by many. “Hey, how’s it going?,” Mark, the waiter, greeted as I sauntered confidently into Olivia’s, the place in which I currently worked. The restaurant had crystal chandeliers, cream-colored walls, and mahogany tables with single roses as decor. I was basically a celebrity in this town, and a damned-well good actor. I had to keep up this facade, it was obligatory; I needed to complete my mission and get as far away from Miami as possible. I would spend hours upon hours planning my escape; looking at possible locations that were rural and not well known. I glanced surreptitiously at the 12 gold plaques on the wall, bearing the faces of my colleagues. Each one was smiling, their eyes slightly squinted and lips turned up into a warm grin. I looked to the one of myself. I was smiling as well, but only people with a knack for reading emotion would see through my act; this, however, was extremely rare. Even if they could detect my false smile, they could never decode my actions or body language.. My smile was warm, but my eyes cold; gazing directly through the plexi-glass protecting the picture and staring directly into each onlooker’s mind.

Below my photo was my name, and current rank in this field of work; my occupation was one that many people would not find interesting. Y’vette Harper, shift manager. At my current age of 26, I practically ran this old place. I was basically a top tier; an elite in this place. My job was surprisingly not dull; I got to study time, and improve on my observation skills. I could see how long it would take for an action to occur, from seconds to minutes.I observed people, my eyes were like a camera; they could record or reiterate occurrences as a camera does, and because it could do this, my memory was almost 100% accurate. That is why I’d never forget what my foes did to decieve me. “You think that you could just do that and bounce, like it ain’t gon’ come back to you?” I muttered to myself frequently, and tried to limit this odd behavior in order to avoid suspicion. In my ‘hood, the streets have rules; laws that if they are broken, will result in harsh consequences. If you break these rules, not even death could match what you will suffer; it’ll be over for you, you family, and all your affiliates. You’ll be cut off quicker than you could say, “I’m sorry.” That was a fact here. I didn’t want to cut anyone off, but it was like they were handing me the scissors. Any fool should know better than to disrespect the laws of the streets. If you’re smart, you gotta keep it real. “An eye for an eye. You take out one of mines, I’ll take out one of yours.” That’s law around here; or in any ‘hood that been through the struggles of overcoming the ghetto stereotype that we keep ourselves confined in.

I tried to suppress a sigh, which I thought of as a semi-sarcastic remark; a non-verbal one, at least. How many arguments would I have with myself over this matter? My thoughts went from classy formal language to ghetto slang in the blink of an eye. I wanted revenge, but I wanted to “revive the ghetto” at the same time. The dilemma was inevitable, and time was everything. An hour could mean the difference between success and failing. A minute could divide the probability between a mission complete and a mission unfinished. A second can determine the amount of time you have left; even if its during your last breath. Time is everything. Your actions; your words; every breath that you intake into your lungs are timed simultaneously and occur during the same amount of time. “Y’vette!” Calvin, my close childhood friend called my name across the room. He was unaware of my plans to accommodate him as an accomplice in my mission. He was my soon-to-be partner in crime, we were going to be the Bonnie and Clyde of the present age.

“What’s up, Cal?” I asked casually and smiled slyly. We exchanged our usual, kind of childish handshake; using fist-bumps and a numerous amount of high fives and hand motions. We laughed quietly, this was a 5-Star restaurant, after all. “Nothing much, Just coming in to check on y’all,” he stated absent-mindedly as he waved at colleagues and customers passing by, occasionally glancing our way and quickly greeting us. His expression was dazed, I could see easily that he was in deep thought. I looked at him suspiciously and peered disbelievingly into his eyes. I could tell if he was lying, I’d known him for over 12 years. “Okay, okay! I’ve got a big problem; I’m in some deep trouble, girl,” He looked around quickly, his eyes darting around the room and scanning each customers face hectically. I nodded and motioned for him to follow me. “Yo, Kirsten! I’m going on break!” I said without looking back. I didn’t have to ask her, I basically owned this place without her full-knowledge. She knew better than to tell me what to do; how to speak; how to act. I did all those things. I was my own boss. “20 minutes,” she replied blandly, not looking up from her cell phone. We opted to walk out onto the busy Miami street. We waited for the traffic to slow, crossed the street, and continued to weave in and out of busy streets and quiet avenues. Here was where we would speak freely, speaking like a hoodlum was natural when in a crisis.
“All right, Give me the 4-1-1. What’s up with you?” I asked impatiently. He inhaled deeply, then sighed. “Okay, you know Tim and his crew, right? Well I was walking down the block the other day and I ran into him. So I gave him a dap, and we was conversating,” Conversing, I auto-corrected him in my mind, my intuitive nature materialized for a moment, but I kept listening. “Then Mikey and Fred and ‘nem came runnin’ and told us that they was shooting on the boulevard and said some homies from South beach ran up on ‘em and tried to empty a few clips--” I cut him off. “So you’re trying to tell me,” I paused for effect. “That some chumps from South Beach tried to start something with you and Tim?” I asked quizzically and pursed my lips disbelievingly. “I can make you believe me, with two names, each with 2 syllables.” I narrowed my eyes and raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he was about to say. “Quincy; Unique.” I grimaced, not wanting him to get involved in my plan so soon. Quincy and Unique were not above those actions. They killed my cousin; blew his head off right in front of my eyes, and fled. And I didn’t do anything to stop it. I was shook; scared of what would happen, and what I would’ve done afterwards. “Now they tryin’ to mess with me even more, and I don’t take to kindly to that. I really need to stop talking to myself.” I shook my head angrily, then sighed. “I have to tell you something, and you need to say you’ll do this with me no matter what it is.” I said quickly, while grabbing both him shoulders firmly; peering into his eyes. “I got you, ‘Vette,” He replied sincerely.

After I filled him in, we began planning, recruiting, and stacking up on things we would need over the course of a few weeks. I still showed up to work, this act needed to be maintained until I decided to act. Scratch that-- we decided to act.The things that we would need were ammunition, firearms, and bullet-proof everything, from the windows of the Jeep Cherokee we obtained to the socks on our feet. We needed our identities to remain unknown; we needed to retain anonymity. Our faces would be hidden with masks, and we needed to change our voices if we needed to speak. We had to get some more people on our team, as well. Like they say, three's a crowd; but I needed an army, so four would be perfect. Our army consisted of four individuals with four different, but important roles. We each had a job and was ready to do it at will. Interrupting my conversation with myself, Calvin walked up to me obediently; he was like my new little puppy, and he obeyed my every command. Everyone did; I was manipulative like that. I had skills. I scanned the paper, an annoyed scowl slowly stretching across my face.

Y’vette: The boss; the ringleader. Deciphers codes and breaks
lock combos. Talks them down; gets the info she needs.
Calvin(Me!): If they don’t listen, I hit them. Case closed.
Patricia(Trish): Demolition extraordinaire. BOOM!
Armani: Making sure that the coast is clear; the computer geek.
By: Calvin :-)


“You wrote this down?” I asked incredulously and put my hand on my hip. Did I forget to mention that Calvin, my best friend, wasn’t the smartest of the bunch? In fact, he was actually the one who possessed the least quantity of intellect. The only thing he was really useful for was bashing people’s skulls in. He was the muscle of the group, Patricia was the destructive force, Armani was the extractor, and I was the brains. “Yeah, so that we can remember what we need to--” I ripped the paper into four quadrants, opened the window, and deposited them onto the window ledge; letting the wind carry the pieces into the sky. I closed the window loudly and looked at him, his mouth agape. “Anyone else stupid enough to try and get us caught?” My voice raised gradually until the end of the sentence. I looked at my teammates expectantly. Patricia was about to say something, but closed her mouth as I glared intensely her way; my raised eyebrows and small, amused smile daring her to speak. Armani looked at me indignantly. I smirked and laughed bitterly. These were my minions, my pawns. I was the gamemaker; I was in control.


“My plan is perfect. In exactly two days, Quincy and Unique will be apprehended. Armani will keep watch and monitor the building on the security cameras while Calvin knocks out the guards. Calvin will tie them up along with anyone capable of seeing out plan fall into place,” I paused and looked at my collaborators, my confederates, then continued. “As I make my way to where Calvin will deposit my captives, Armani will proceed to override the computer system and tap into the mainframe. He will disable all audio and video recordings. I will proceed to talk to them, and find out their reasonings for what they have done. Calvin, you will not kill anyone unless I instruct you otherwise. If they do not cooperate, Calvin will shows them what happens when they disobey me-- us.” I stopped speaking. Patricia looked to the floor solemnly. “Don’t worry Trish, you have the most important job in the whole operation,” I smiled cynically as her eyes sparkled with amusement. “If this job doesn’t go well, which it won’t , this building and everyone left in it will go bye-bye! Wouldn’t you like that, Trish?” I proclaimed giddily and she beamed, excitement shone in her eyes. With that, I walked out and began to make my way to work. Another day, Another dollar.


The day in which I’ve impatiently waited for has finally arrived. Today, it would be their lives in my hands. And with my hands, I would end their lives quicker than they could utter a word. I did consider torturing them, but I wasn’t that cruel. I just wanted them to see me smiling before they left the earth. They couldn’t take away my happiness, ‘cause I was about to fulfill my wish in about 20 minutes. Calvin swung the car around front, the black Jeep Cherokee was acquitted with dark-purple tinted (bullet-proof, may I add?) windows and steel-chrome spinners. We packed our artillery into the trunk, which consisted of firearms from beanbag shotguns to 10/22 rugers; and ranging from 9mm to semi-automatic pistols. Yeah, we had a variety of weapons that were ready for use. That, and I played alot of CoD in my free time; my aim was on point. We clambered into the Jeep surreptitiously and I gazed out of the window as we drove, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do.

“Wait, where’s Armani?” Patricia asked frantically, C-4s in her purse and grenades in the lining of her coat. My eyes widened, and I called him swiftly on my cellular device. “Where the hell are you?” I half-shouted as we slowed at a yellow traffic light, then stopped. “I took the bus, you know I couldn’t just leave work like that. It’ll cause suspicion. I’m already here so hurry up.” I hung up and sighed in frustration. As we pull up to the building in which Quincy and Unique were about to arrive, I stopped in my tracks when I saw Armani with two other people, standing there waving to us excitedly. I shook my head and got myself out of my daze. I relaxed my shoulders, stood up straight, promptly walked up to Armani, and slapped him hard across the face. “Who are these fools? Why are they here?” I chastised him, but wanted to pistol whip him across the face. I refrained from doing so. “These are my friends, Kelly and Matthew. They wanted to help. But because you’re so obligated to harm me, I guess the job can go on without me,” He stated and began to walk away, but not before turning and gesturing a “5-0” to me. I wasn’t about to let him snitch to the pigs on me, he had just broke another street law. You know what they say, “Snitches get stitches.” I looked to Calvin and snapped my fingers. And that is how I ended up inside the building with 3 hostages, before my targets even arrived. “Don’t cross me, don’t ever cross me!” My habit of talking to myself transpired a long time ago, and I guess it would stay with me for a while. Patricia looked at me worriedly, and Calvin sat on the window sill, looking at the floor and waiting for further instructions. My hostages struggled on the ground, squirming relentlessly and trying to get out of the rope bind I ordered Cal to put them in. “Shh, or you’ll hurt yourselves,” I stated humorously as they continued to roll around violently. I walked over to Armani, my former accomplice, and knelt down to his level. “Don’t ever cross me. It’s an eye for an eye, fool. You shoulda kept it 100, being real shouldn’t be that hard.” I whispered harshly at kicked him in his gut. I laughed as he gasped for air and sputtered, unable to clutch his now aching stomach.

“Can we go now, ‘Vette? This is boring,” Patricia whined annoyingly. “In time, Trish. In a moment’s time.” I looked at my watch. I had about 4 minutes and 22 seconds to prepare for Quincy and Unique to saunter into the building. Now that we didn’t have technology on our side, we were half-blind and half-deaf. I motioned for Patricia to place two C-4s in each doorway, walked out into the hallway, and crouched. I smiled cynically as I saw my targets stroll into the main lobby, promenading their way into the building without a care in the world. I stood up and as naturally as I could, walked into the lobby. “Hey, y’all, Long time, no see! I would just love it if you could join my friends and I for lunch,” I announced in a fake friendly voice and motioned for them to follow me as Patricia beamed in a childish grin. They were both stupid and gullible enough to believe us, and probably didn’t remember what they did; they had done too much to remember one specific thing. But this would be the thing that they would perish for.

As I walked into the room, I stopped short in my tracks. After I wrenched open the door, I saw red. Red was everywhere. My gaze traveled across the blood-spattered walls and landed on Calvin aiming a silver Desert Eagle at Armani, his hands trembling violently. Armani spat blood onto the floor and laughed bitterly, his hand straining against the ropes that his hands were confined in. “Calvin, what the hell are you doing? You may’ve just sabotaged us all!” I wailed shrilly. Quincy’s eyes widened and he turned to run, but ceased to do so as Patricia pinned him to the floor, aiming her Ruger directly at him. Unique fainted, and collapsed on the floor, her head hitting the metal bookcase. Red stained the floors, and I panicked. I checked her pulse, and her heart had stopped beating. All life had drained from her face. Oh My God. Armani began to speak. “See, Calvin? You’re so stupid! You mess up everything, you see how angry Y‘Vette looks; she---” “No it’s not that at all Cal, He’s lying--” POP!POP!POP!POP!POP! the sound of five gun shots pierced the air, then silence. “You shut up! I’m not stupid, I’m not stupid!”

And now we're back to where we started in the beginning, when all the crap hit the fan. “NO! Why’d you shoot him! I told you not to shoot any hostages! You weren’t supposed to kill anyone! Oh, man, You just screwed us all over. You do what I say, when I say it, you hear? Now, umm-- T-t-take the rest of them to the roof, and make sure they can’t see your face, you freaking idiot!” I exclaimed in shock and started to panic. “But what about--,” Calvin began to speak, but I cut him off mid- sentence. “Just shut up and do what I say!” The door busted open and fell. “DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP! STOP! CEASE AND DESIST IMMEDIATELY!” My legs were moving a little too slow right now. I sprinted upstairs to the roof of the penthouse, overlooking a busy Miami street. Would I survive a 6-story drop? I wasn’t about to wait for the pigs to cuff me and find out. So, in a fit of panic, I jumped; and sincerely hoped that I would live.

I prayed as I plunged downward, and closed my eyes momentarily. Surprisingly, death didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Just a small, painful sensation in my feet, and a loud, metallic Boom. But I didn’t see any supernatural force pulling me away from the earth, so I tried to open my eyes. It was actually very easy. I smiled when I realized that I had jumped off a 6-story building and landed on a moving truck, passing by just as I reached the first floor. It was timed; time was everything. But I still had to run. I jumped onto a deserted avenue; narrowly dodging three cars. As I ran, I heard four distant explosions; signaling that Patricia had followed the plan. My heart stopped as a black vehicle swerved around the corner and stopped suddenly in front of me. A blonde-haired woman with slightly singed fingertips smiled brightly at me and gestured for me to get in. “Patricia, you did well. Umm, did everyone uh-- make it out okay?” I appreciated her loyalty. She shook her head as we sped onto the highway. Panic was still embedded into her nerves, fear pulsing through my veins. But I had loyalty. That was all I needed; for now. At least my targets have been neutralized; they would never hurt anyone again.

“So I was thinking that we could go to New York, we could lay low there for a while, you know? We could start over again with new names and everything. I like the name Karma, its nice. It represents who I am now; Who I became,” I began. She nodded, and didn’t respond. “Trish--” I began but was cut off by the sounds of sirens, choppers, and running screeching tires. “Y’VETTE HARPER, GET OUT OF THE CAR WITH YOUR HANDS UP. YOU AND YOUR ACCOMPLICE BOTH.” I sighed and grinned. “All this for me?” I asked excitedly. “Well, I had to appeal to my audience. Right Y’vette? Yes, you always put on a show for the people. They all wanna see Karma when she’s not after them; when she not on a warpath. But I love my fans, my believers. Karma is certainly not a b**ch.” I hopped out of the Jeep Cherokee with my hands up and waved at my adoring fans. My name is Karma, and I bring justice to the world.

Y’vette Harper and Patricia Howell were arrested for over 4 counts of homicide, arson, illegal possession of weaponry, fraud, two counts of premeditated murder, and one count of attempted murder. Evidence consisted of artillery, fingerprints, and four pieces of paper (four quadrants) that were pieced together to link them to these crimes. The lives of Unique Robinson, Calvin Garfield, Kelly Jones, and Matthew Reid were lost that day. Y’vette received a life sentence, and Patricia received 27 years for cooperation with the police. She testified against Harper, along with Quincy Brown, who survived the devastating attack. Y’vette now spends her days in prison and goes to a mental facility every thursday; frequently having long conversations with herself. She has shown an immense amount of insanity, and now refers to herself as “Karma.”