The Code For Mistakes by Simi Thrasher (classic books to read .TXT) 📕

I was a mistake. My mother's mistake. She wasn't careful, and she got landed with me. She named me Karma, it seemed to fit the situation. So here I am, seventeen years later, Karma Barlett, orphan.
Not that I mind being on my own, it's great. No one bossing me around, no one screaming what a miserable waste of flesh, bone, and blood I am.
My mother died when I was seven, but by then I knew enough about getting along on my own in the world. I've never needed anyone. Never will.
I live by a code. My code is what has kept me alive for the past thirtteen years. A code made by my brother, and passed on to me.
Mark's code went a little something like this.


If you have a choice to fight or turn away, you turn away. Don't make enemies on purpose.

If you see someone that needs help, you help, no question asked.

If your in a fight and your pride, and life, are at stake, you fight. Fight like the hounds of hell are at your heels ready to eat you if you fail.

In a fight, you always play fair. If your opponent doesn't have a weapon you don't use a weapon.

If a fight turns life or death, dont take the first punch. You do, you land your dumb butt in jail. You don't, anything you do is counted as self defense.


I live by my brother's code, it is the only thing I have. So I'm sneaky, and a little reckless. I've been to Juvie before, lots before. But I'm not stupid, the mistakes never result in more than an over nighter.
I made a few mistakes on my way here, but not many. Sure, I joined the wrong crowd in my third year on my own. I got out of it without a scratch. But I picked up some bad habits. I smoke, can't seem to stop, and I love adrenaline.
So here I am, leaning against a brick wall at eleven at night, smoking, and just begging for a fight.
"Hey, baby. You waiting' for someone?"
I turn, a man about twenty seven, tall, dark, but not my type. So I turn back around and finish my cigarette, acting like he's not there.
A hand comes down on my shoulder and I react automatically. I throw down my cigarette stub and turn, being reckless again, I throw the first punch. I hit him square in the nose, feel the bone break and smile.
He's mad now, his friends are laughing behind him, he wants me dead, I can see it on his face. He throws the second punch, but I duck just out of reach and smile again. My games are beginning to annoy him.
I'm bored, half drunk, and reckless, so I make a mistake. I provoke him.
He's real mad now, and pulls out a gun. So I think, the code says to not throw the first punch, too late, so now I start getting' smart.
I lower my hands, straighten my leather jacket, and turn to walk away. I surprised him, so I'm good. I'm no longer a threat, so I'm good. I walk away, and don't look back. Tonight I goofed.
I made a mistake. But I made it out still intact. But I'm on a road to nowhere real fast. I need to get smart. So I turn. I head to the one place I never would go before. I don't want to lose my edge, so I'm going.
Looks to me, like I'm going to meet my father. I frown, and as I fade into the shadows, I hear my brother's last words again.

My mistakes, so many, are mine. Don't make them. Go to dad, he can teach you all you need to know to survive alone. Do what he says, but trust no one. Don't make mistakes, Karma. Mistakes are what get you killed when your like you and me. Promise me, no mistakes.
She'd promised.


My name is Karma, Karma Barlett. I am seventeen, an 'orphan', and my twin brother is dead.
Some take pity on my story. I hate pity, pity and sympathy alike. Not that it matters.
Everyone knows the saying about Karma. In my case, the saying fits, in more ways than one.
I walk down the street, it's daylight, so I stick to the shadows of the alley's. I hate cities, but here I am, in the biggest one of all. New York. I'm here to find my dead beat father.
I walk slowly, wincing as my dark sunglasses press too tight against my face. I quietly curse all hangovers under my breath. I stop; slip a hand into my leather jacket's pocket and pullout my cigarettes.
I pull out my lighter and light the sucker. I can feel the nicotine in my lungs.
My father. A deadbeat. I was told he lives in a apartment in New York. So I'm here. And if he doesn't like it, he can drop dead.
I wait in the shadows. Wait till the sun goes down. When the orange globe of fire is out of sight I walk calmly across the street to my 'father's' apartment complex.
I enter the building and take the stairs. I find apartment B38 and knock on the door. I can hear a woman laughing on the other side, and a man’s voice, teasing her. I grind my teeth and knock again, harder this time.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The man yells.
I resist the urge to punch him in the face when the door opens. I stare, shocked. I always knew I didn't look like my mother. But I never knew what my father looked like. So I stood, shocked, staring at me as my father.
He stared back. Our gold tinted eyes met, and as he gaped I gained composure. I tucked a few strands of my long midnight black hair behind my ear. I stare back, giving away no emotion.
"I'm looking for Gregor Barlett." I said, challenging him to lie to me with my eyes. He was smart. He told the truth.
"That's me. What do you want?"
"What, no welcome home princess?" I said. I was mocking him, he didn't like it. He sneered.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? And just exactly who are you?"
"It means you're an idiot. And I'm your daughter. Surprised?"
He gaped again. A woman, wrapped only in a sheet, platinum blond hair covering her shoulders, walked up behind him and stopped cold.
She stared, looked from me to my dad a few times. I could almost see the connection she made. She stared in horror for a moment, then marched away to find her clothes.
She came back, fully clothed, and stormed out the front door. The door slammed behind her. The sound rang like a gun shot in the silence


"I thought you were aborted." Gregor said.
"And what? Leave mommy with a scar? Never!" I say in mock horror. "Why didn't you stick around and make sure she killed me? That is what abortion is you know, killing the kid? Don't matter how old, it's murder. But that's not the subject, please answer the question
'Daddy'."
"I had stuff to do, and so I left."
"And never came back." I say, staring at him hard. When he startsto answer I cut him off. "But that's not why I'm here. I was sent by Mark, your son. He said to come to you if I start getting recklace."
"I have a son too?" He says, outraged.
"Yep, and we were twins. He's dead." I said.
Gregor just stares at me for a minute. I dont like the look on his face.
"So why did my 'son' send you?'' He asks. I stare, I'd just told him,was he seriously this stupid?
" 'Cause I'm getting recklace." I sneer. It should have been obvious.
"And I'm supposed to care?" He says, as he raises a raven brow.
"Nope, but I'm supposed to give you this. Mark said it would convince you." I say. I pull a folded cloth out of my leather jacket pocket.
I open it and shove it toward him, a small box was wrapped in the cloth. He opens it and pulls out a small locket.
I blanch. The locket was my brothers. I have an identical one.
Gregor oes white, loks at me, i continue to gape as I pull my locket from around my neck. I sit there, clutching my locket, a gift from my brother on my seventh birthd-ay. We had matching ones, I remember as I gape, bothe silver with an outline of Fenris the wolf in Onyx, and one eye. Mine has a ruby. Mark's, an emerald.
"Where did the two of you get these." Gregor demands. He is furious.
"Mark got them for us, birthday presents for us when we turned seven...he had had to sell hm at age ten so we would have money for food." I say, remembering that winter. And remembering the contents of each locket. "Each locket holds some kind of dust. We never figured out what it was."
We sit in silence for a long time. I loose my patience little by little. I'm confused and angry, but i keep my cool.
"Ok, I'll show you the ropes." Gregor finally says.
I'm astonished. I stare for a minute, then shrug.
"Come back here tomorrow at four a.m., don't be late, I hate slackers." He says. I decided to be a full twenty minutes late.
I stand up and walk out the door with both lockets. I dont say goodbye, no need to.
I step out onto the street. I have lots to think about until four twenty the next morning. How did my brother get his locket back? Why did Gregor change his mind after seeing the locket? What kind of dust is in the lockets?
I slip my sunglasses on and cross the street. I walk and don't stop. I just think about my brother. Remember his last words