Karma
Karma 
I write this as proof of what goes around comes back around, for every wrong done, there is a retaliating for the same. Having brought up in the lavish suburbs of East London, I was quite spoilt for all the world had to give. To me nothing was better than my Ferrari and hanging out at expensive joints whose bill for a single meal could feed a whole African village. For me the whole world revolved around me and a single wish for me could be granted irrespective of how trivial it was to acquire as my father being a multi billionaire and being an only child, compensation for not having enough time was money. This was enough for me to get what I wanted irrespective of distance as it was only a private jet away (talk of teenager with cravings).
Deep down I knew that all that was a fuss to conceal the true self and for me lack of parental love was replaced by friends and earthy things. I got to a point that I was not at all concerned for other peoples feeling so long as my selfish priorities came first. My parents, the Sillitoe were too busy to have time for me and for them, so long as all my demands met, the better for them that was love enough for good ‘parenting’.
I did not really care much of the rest of the world and in short I was what you would call a spoilt brat, but all that is good does not last long. I would not want to see anyone poor it were like they were lesser human than I was. By the time I turned seventeen, besides being a less than average student as I thought I had better things to do rather than getting tired with reading. My options were well placed in being a musician despite not having the talent and also modeling though in the latter the chances were higher. Being popular and mean to the lesser attractive and fortunate was what I would call my specialty. I was a menace to the society as being quite unbearable to a number of people who if asked would prefer her not in their midst.
When I turned eighteen, I joint oxford doing an undergraduate in Drama. With me, I brought along the same attitude that I was so used having and in an environment of wild young adults, this did not come politely upon them and instead of creating an image I created enemies and negative popularity. My money was no match for more humble people determined to make something out of themselves rather than have a person still clinging to her parents’ success; someone once told me. As usual being so full of myself, I thought that they were all jealous and made up a clique of likeminded selfish people. My parents during all this time did not recognize my crave for attention and slowly without realizing it, I was on a trail of self destruction.
I got involved in all the things that parents encourage their children in universities against such as alcoholism, drugs and even in gangs. In this company we got into all things but education but there were few in the group who despite being involved in campus flings were also keeping an eye for their studies. Unfortunately for me, I did not have much interest in the education that my parents wanted so that I could take up the business empire. With repeated resists and even suspension there was not much that the college administration would to change our self made predicament. It was during one of these suspensions that I and the rest of the crew decided to go to Netherfield a small town west of London and paint it red as we would call a trail of destruction and adventure.
With the speed of our expensive automobiles and stoned to disbelief, we raced off to the highly mountain areas on snowy tarmac. And being high on a few drinks and not to mention coke, I missed a corner at the edge of a mountain and flew off the cliff. Awkwardly, this brought me back to a sober mind and in an instant a flash of my life and all the bad things I had done and not to mention the rebellion and felt I did not do much with it. The next I remembered was being in a hospital and not being able to move any part of my body. But my friend was not so lucky to survive the crush and I had been in a comma for about two weeks. It was the first time I saw my mother cry and show concern for me and all she could as was forgiveness for being a negligent parent and my father was just remorseful and silent for not realizing the effects of money and an irresponsible teenager.
After several months in hospital I was discharged but was not ever going to be able to walk again and the photos taken previously were the only evidence I had of my former beauty as my face had been disfigured from all the glass and re-correctional surgery done. With a new face, I was determined to start life a fresh and be a voice to the very same people that I had ill treated and changed my course to one involving community development and working more closely with people. My clique as it were came to an end as the members realized that there was more to life than meets the eye and foe these I was grateful as they also got to pursue their dreams. My parents though saddened by the fact that I could no longer walk were happy that I was still alive for them to have a second chance to show their love for their child. They assisted the less fortunate by having a school to help the disabled persons attain the best in life as there is strong potential for that. I know see life in a very different angle and appreciate every one irrespective of the back grounds.
