What Mother Said

By Scott Horn

It is the first day of school and I am late. Mother refused to drive me there, stating that I needed to learn from my own mistakes. “What goes around comes around,” she said. She always says that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a saying. It is an almost unbearably cold day and the school uniform is doing little to protect me from it. The rain crashes upon me from above while the wind violates my front with its vicious gales. I am almost brought to tears by the cruelty of Mother and the equal cruelty of the savage storm. In my sorrow I almost walk straight past the destroyed vehicle. It is a car but it is far too damaged to make out what kind. Looking at the car, I am reminded of something. I am reminded of an incident that occurred a long time ago.
I was thirteen years old when it happened. I had barely hit puberty yet I was under the impression I was ready to do anything. My friends had invited me to a party, and despite Mother’s warnings, I agreed. I fed Mother a simple white lie and she ate it up like a small animal that had been deprived of food. I told her I was going to a friend’s house for the night. That part was true. What Mother didn’t know was that there was going to be swarms of strangers there taking part in desperate drug-taking and violent sex. I drank alcohol for the first time that night. Because of my young age paired with my small, frail body it wasn’t long at all before I was sucked into that other world. In that world; words lost all meaning and actions became blurred and unrecognizable. I was happy there. All my troubles had disappeared and everything was peaceful. Things that I once found disturbing and uncouth were now things of beauty. Because of this newly developed ignorance it wasn’t difficult to accept a ride home with one of my friends. I remember being so proud of myself. I thought I was so damn cool and nothing could get in my way. Pride is a sin, I should’ve known that. Maybe it was God’s judgement, maybe it was my fate, maybe it was just pure bad luck but then suddenly everything went wrong. The car took a sharp turn and it glided off of the road, tumbling into an inconveniently placed tree. I don’t remember much after that except for screams of agony from myself and from my friends. We stared helplessly at the crimson flames engulfing us. Embraced with heat and burning with terror, I was sure that this was my end.
I am much better now. Everything from the broken legs to the third degree burns has healed and I am back to normal. As I stand alone on the pathway, leering at the wrecked car, I realize something. It was not God, nor fate, nor luck that caused the accident. It was karma. I had chosen to go to that party, I had chosen to get drunk and I had chosen to get into the car. Mother always tells me, “What goes around comes around” and now, as I stand in the frigid cold due to my own inability to be organized, I finally understand what she means.