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Karma

Author: Meeka El
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-04 08:03:23

JACKSON

The bourbon was cheap; it’s the kind that burned through going down and leaving smokes in my chest. Smoke came out of my ears and nose and I welcomed the burn.

I pour it down my throat, one glass after another, and line them up like girls on the counter. One, two, three, four, and by the fifth, my eyes were already glassy. The world had almost faded. It softened up enough that I could now pretend.

Pretend I wasn’t the headline of a false scandal. Pretend I wasn’t alone in emotional turmoil. Pretend Aurora’s silence wasn’t an answer in itself.

The jukebox pours out another country ballad about trucks going bad and heartbreaks again, the same chords keep cycling on repeat. It’s torture. I hate country music.

Always had. I felt it was sung out of true experience, which made it too earnest, too bare. But tonight, as it cut me open, I let myself bleed. It sounded like the truth, and I was a little too tired to argue with the truth. Or anything else.

I rubbed my bandaged hand ove
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  • The Price Of Her Mercy   Deserved Happiness

    JERRYI stare at her hands, nervously fumbling with the ring in my pocket, and wonder how the hell I got here. Two weeks ago, I proposed to Mabel in Central Park. It wasn’t anything cinematic or over the top, just us, a bench, and the sun cutting through the bare branches of the trees. I had rehearsed the speech a hundred times in my head, but when it came down to it, all I could think was how much I loved this girl and how much I wanted to make her laugh forever.“Jerry?” Mabel’s voice pulls me back. She’s looking at me like she knows me better than anyone else ever could.I drop to one knee, my heart hammering, and the city noises fading into a muffled background. “Mabel, I don’t have fancy words. I’m not some rich asshole who can throw you into a fairytale, but I can promise to make you laugh when life’s a shitshow, to hold you when it all falls apart, and to fight for us every damn day. Will you marry me?”Her eyes well up, and she laughs through the tears, shaking her head. “Ye

  • The Price Of Her Mercy   Harmonies and Codes

    NORAThe first time I meet Sera, it’s in the middle of a coding lab. She’s bent over her laptop, fingers moving faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. Lines of code cascade across the screen, perfectly organized, almost like music. I glance at her and realize that this girl isn’t just smart, she’s insane. She’s brilliant, unstoppable, and a little intimidating. I hesitate for a moment, then tap her shoulder.“Hey,” I say, trying not to sound like an idiot. “That’s… impressive.”She looks up, and her eyes, bright, sharp, the same green that seems to haunt every Meliś female, meet mine. There’s this instant click, a spark, like recognition. “Thanks,” she says, smirking. “You’re not half bad yourself.”Wow! I blink. Did she just… compliment me? And in a slightly smug, challenging way? My chest tightens. “Uh… thanks.” My voice sounds ridiculous even to me. From that moment, we’re inseparable. Sera and I discover that we share everything, our obsession with coding, late-night hackathons, an

  • The Price Of Her Mercy   Sparks in the Stacks

    NORAI’ve always thought college would be a place of dull lectures, endless assignments, and the occasional cafeteria disaster, in fact it has been for a while now, until sitting in Professor Cross’s class turned everything upside down. I should be taking notes, focusing on algorithms and coding syntax, but all I can do is watch him. His pen moves fast across the board, black ink forming symbols I barely understand, and yet, the way his brow furrows when he explains a concept makes my stomach twist. I try to shake it off, it’s stupid. He’s my lecturer, not some dream man I can chase. But the world seems to conspire against me every time our eyes meet. It starts small. From glances in the library while I’m pretending to research for an assignment, and lingering look when he passes by during group projects, to the tiniest smirk that seems reserved just for me. Every time it happens, I feel like my chest is going to split in two. I know it’s unprofessional, gosh it’s kinda forbidden

  • The Price Of Her Mercy    A donation to the donor

    MIRAPale light filters through the curtains, touching the edge of the world like a blessing. Jackson sleeps beside me, one arm stretched where I had been. His brow is creased, even in rest. He carries the war into his dreams too.But something in me is different. Quieter, and settled. Seeing everyone happy gives me hope. I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of my decision lock into place like a final puzzle piece.This doesn’t end with guns. It ends with mercy, it ends with truth, It ends with me. I won’t let this story devour another generation. I won’t let Nora grow up haunted by ghosts she never created.I won’t let Aurora’s name be spoken only in whispers and scandal. The past doesn’t get to dictate the future anymore. Downstairs, the house is still. No more alarms going off on its own, or doors creaking open. For once, there’s silence. The good kind.I make coffee, letting the steam warm my face, let reality touch me slowly, then my phone vibrates on the counter. one

  • The Price Of Her Mercy   Home truths

    JERRYI land back in Sunrise Bay with salt still clinging to my skin and my head still full of New York lights. The airport smells like recycled air and burnt coffee, and for a second I miss the way my girlfriend laughed into my chest last night, naked, warm, telling me I snore like an asshole but kissing me anyway. Real life hits fast and hard, like it always does here.I drive straight from the airport to the mansion. My suitcase rattles in the trunk like it’s impatient to be unpacked, like it knows I don’t belong anywhere for too long. The gates open as I punch in the code into the metal code box just close to the edge.The security made it so that it automatically does when you put in the code. That way, not many people can trespass anymore. I drive in slowly and it hits me with the same quietness, same wealth, and the same familiar ghosts hiding behind glass walls and trimmed hedges.Mira opens the door herself.She looks softer than before. Not weak. Never that. Just quieter.

  • The Price Of Her Mercy   Life outside the Bay

    JERRYNew York hits me the second I step out of the cab. First with the noise of busy people going about their business, then the smell of cold breeze, dust, and luxury, then cold air cutting through my jacket. Horns scream, and people move like they have somewhere to be even if most of them don’t. The city doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve survived. It just keeps going. I respect that.Mabel, my love waits near the entrance of her building, phone in hand, coat half buttoned like she ran down without thinking. When she sees me, her whole face shifts into the warmest smile I’ve seen in a while. Without hesitation, she walks straight into me and wraps her arms around my neck.“Hello to my favorite investigator,” I mutter, kisses pouring on her neck.“You look tired,” she says into my collar.“Yeah? You should see the other guy,” I answer, a small laugh escapes her, soft and real.Her apartment is warm. Really clean as usual, but lived in. There's a half folded blanket on the couc

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